#life’s been so stressful and busy I haven’t even had a chance to show these guys off yet! they came in a few days ago | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

janners · 2 years ago

Text

Light

Sully family x daughter!reader

warnings : death, heavy angst..?, violence (if i miss anything tell me)

word count : 7.9k

a/n : This is my very first story that i’ve ever posted so it may be absolute shit but I hope you guys enjoy it. Please tell me if i’ve made any mistakes. Also there may be some plot holes that I haven’t noticed. If there is just ignore it lol

_______________________________________________________________________

Pure blinding light, that’s all you can see. An aching feeling within you surfaces as you slowly realise where you are. With Eywa…

19 years ago

“Y/N” Jake announces, his first born, his first daughter. A joyous day for both him and Neytiri, a gift sought from Eywa. The first light in their life, but what they didn’t know was how fast that light would fade within their lives.

_______________________________________________________________________

You were a bright child, fast learner as well. Being able to catch fish with your bare hands, showing it off to your father with the brightest smile. How that smile could brighten up anyone's day. You were adored by everyone in the clan with how enthusiastic you were and how positive you are in any given situation.

Only four years later came along your younger brother, Neteyam. Any chance that was given, you would hold him and just talk about how much you adore and cherish him. Neytiri being right there to witness these interactions gave her thoughts on how they could ever be deserving of such a blessed child.

As years pass by, Lo’ak and Kiri now being part of the family has Jake and Neytiri busy as ever. Though, where does that leave you? You are being left out, and held with more responsibility than ever before. Being the oldest sully child now became stressful and overwhelming. Once a carefree child, now trapped with responsibilities. Jake had given you the responsibility to watch over your siblings at all times and protect them at all costs. Only being 6 at the time, you didn’t fully understand why.

_______________________________________________________________________

Both Jake and Neytiri haven’t been the same parents you knew since the birth of Tuktirey. You don’t blame Tuk in any way with how your parents are now acting. You could only blame them for being hard on you no matter what you do. Throughout the years you had trained hard with no breaks. Becoming one of the most lethal warriors within the clan. Even with your parents knowing that, they still pay no attention to you. Even when you went through with your iknimaya, you didn’t get as much praise compared to when your other siblings had completed theirs. You still had strong bonds with your siblings especially with Lo’ak.

You and Lo’ak were always together, attached to the hip. You being the calm and collected child while Lo’ak was the “devil” child. You guys especially bonded over your difficulties in the family, you being the only one to really understand him. Though being older, you don’t rant to him but instead just listen and comfort him because that’s what a good older sister does.

Present

Jake is discussing plans about the raids now that the sky people have returned. You listen intently knowing that Jake expects the most from you. While listening Lo’ak nudges you with his elbow and whispers “psst y/n” you take a quick glance but focus back on the meeting but again he nudges harder, “sister pssst” you finally look at him “what do you want Lo’ak, father will skin us if he finds that we are not paying attention”

He just stares at you for a second before saying “nothing I just wanted to annoy you” with a smug smile on his face. You just roll your eyes with a faint smile.

“Lo’ak, Y/n, Neteyam, you three will be scouters alright? I better not see you guys on the ground at all, understand?” Jakes states with a stern face. You all nod, knowing if you retaliate it would only start an argument. The three of you are now flying and scouting in the air as the rest of the warriors raid the train. You hear Neteyam shout for Lo’ak which made you snap looking in their direction, just to see Lo’ak descending down towards the train. “I swear to eywa that I will not kill Lo’ak” you mumble under your breath. Spotting an aircraft you fly faster towards Lo’ak and Neteyam hoping to get them back to the sky before their father spots them. “Lo’ak, Neteyam, hurry your skxawng asses back into the air NOW”

Right as you finish speaking you see a missile coming towards you all. You quickly alert them trying to run but as it came closer you pushed them out of the way trying to take most of the impact. You landed harshly on the uneven terrain having multiple gashes litterred all over your body. You couldn’t breathe, you were panicking but not for yourself but for your brothers well beings. You struggled to to stand trying to look to where you pushed them, looking over you see them helping each other up with small scratches on them. Relief washes over you knowing that they are okay.

Jake witnessed all of it and came as quickly as possible but not towards you. He went straight to his sons, thinking you were a tough enough warrior to help yourself up. Jake pulling Lo’ak and Neteyam with him but Lo’ak began to go against trying to reach you. “Sir what about y/n? She is hurt, we can't just leave her!” he yelled in desperation. Jake pulled him back “She will be fine, she will meet us back as at camp”

You watched them leave, your chest aching and wondering why he would just leave you there. You struggled to stand while calling for your Ikran. Your Ikran kxamtxon, assisted you in standing up, you threw yourself on her back now heading back to your “home.” Landing you see your father waiting for you. Still struggling to walk over to him, the first thing you hear is “I told you to keep a close eye on them and what do you do, you let them go down” yelling not even caring whether or not anyone could hear him. “I am sorry sir, it won’t happen again” you reply knowing if you’d get yelled at more if you were to say anything else. “It better not or so help me god, go and get fixed up now and get that crap off your face” you nod reluctantly slowly limping to the healing tent.

Entering the tent Mo’at spots you and ushers you quickly to sit. Silence until Lo’ak comes up to you to apologise. “I’m so sorry y/n, did father yell at you?” he asks quietly, “It is okay Lo’ak and no need to worry whether or not he yelled at me, it’s okay” not wanting to worry your brother any further. Turning to Neteyam asking if he was okay as well, he nodded and said sorry as well. You reassure them that it is okay once more. Your relationship with Neteyam isn’t as close compared to Lo’aks but Neteyam always comes to you when he is having a difficult time with father.

Mo’at finishes patching you up telling you to be more careful next time. Now walking away to your family tent, you see your mother waiting for you as well. Neytiri isn’t as harsh compared to Jake but it still breaks your heart knowing that your once loving mother doesn’t acknowledge you as much. Jake and Neytiri come to an agreement that you are to stay in the tent for a week as punishment.

_______________________________________________________________________

Staying in the tent all day was dreadful and boring. Sudden sounds were made outside of the tent, seeing your family in rough states and shaken up. You had wondered what had happened while they were all out. Immediately, you walked towards Tuk seeing as she is the most shaken up from whatever happened out there. “Oh tuktuk are okay?? What happened?” Tuk instead cries in your arms and you look toward Kiri, Lo’ak, and Neteyam to see if any of them would tell you what had happened.

While all of you were outside the tent, Kiri had explained to you about the events. Hearing your parents argue made you even more concerned. All of you had listened in and heard them mention leaving. Those words made you all freeze. Leave? Leave your home? The clan? Thoughts swirling in your head, the forest being the only place you knew. You couldn’t fathom the idea of leaving.

Later that night after everything had been told to us, you couldn’t sleep. Your whole life spent in the forest now just gone within seconds. Having to start a whole new life when your life now isn’t good. The aching feeling in your chest rises, thoughts of having to leave everything behind. Eventually you fall asleep with worried thoughts.

Witnessing your father get cut on the chest from Tarsem, it is now official. Flying away you look back knowing you won’t get the chance to see it again. Flying for it seemed like forever, we reached the reefs. Hearing the alarms blown from the clan, you all landed. Surrounded by the curious eyes of the Metkayina people, tsuraks flying above you. Jake and Neytiri doing the I see you gesture towards two people, that you were guessing was the Tsahik and Oloeyktan. You glance over to your siblings, seeing Lo’ak spot a girl you smirk and give him a knowing look. He rolled his eyes and went back to looking at the girl.

You had spaced out the rest of the interaction between your parents and the leaders of the clan. That is until the Tsahik grabbed Kiri and Lo’ak and yelled demon blood. Those words alone made you want to hiss at her but held back knowing how your parents and everyone else would react. Now being allowed to stay here, we were to be teached by their children, Ao’nung and Tsireya. Tsireya led us to our Mauri and let us settle in, Jake pulled you aside for a private conversation. Far away enough from the family he started talking “y/n I expect you to keep an eye on your siblings, and for you to be on your best behaviour. I can’t have you messing things up. If you get into any trouble while we are here I will personally deal with you. Got it?” Looking up at him slowly you nod “Yes sir, I promise nothing will happen” with that you walk back to mauri. While walking back, you still wonder why your parents had started acting like this. Everyone else gets treated better than you. You can’t but feel envy for you siblings as they get more recognition from your parents. Even Lo’ak, you feel horrible feeling envious towards him, he gets more attention than you and he does a lot of dumb stuff.

You push those thoughts away thinking that you shouldn't be having thoughts like that, but can’t help it.

_______________________________________________________________________

Jumping in the water with your brothers, you look around you looking at all the sea life around you. For once in your life, you feel at peace especially with your thoughts. You swam away from the group exploring the area yourself like Kiri. Eventually you came for air and looked around seeing your brothers above water as well.

You all come together, Ao’nung calling for ilus. While Tsireya took Lo’ak and tuk, Ao’nung had you and Neteyam. Neteyam had gone first, not doing horrible his first try but still got flung off. Looking over to Lo’ak, you see him get flung off as well and you laugh as Lo’ak resurfaces. Now it was your turn, Ao’nung was a rude little shit but a helpful teacher. It felt odd being taught by someone younger than you. Adjusting your stance, you take off at a slow pace, listening to what Ao’nung had said. You did well for your first try by not falling off, and that made you extremely proud of yourself.

Next was breathing, and that had gone by quickly especially with teasing Lo’ak about Tsireya getting his heart rate up. You were now just sitting beside Kiri in the water looking out into the distance just thinking. Thinking about how this is the most freedom you’ve gotten since you were a child.

Flashback

Drawing your arrow back, arms aching, back and core feeling strained. You shoot and miss the target again. “How many times do I have to tell you, arms higher and straighter back. You won’t hit anything if you keep this up” Jake had you practising for hours “but dad my body is hurting, I don’t think I can do anymore” you had started crying with the amount of pain you were in. Instead of your father telling you to stop and continue tomorrow, he yelled at you “Do you want to become a warrior or not, enough with the crying there is no reason to cry. Do it again, we aren’t stopping until you hit the target properly” With that, you continued crying quietly but proceeded to keep shooting arrows but eventually you hit one.

You looked up to your father hoping to see a proud face but instead you saw nothing but a stone cold face telling you to keep going. At that point you collapse from being overworked. Next thing you know, you wake up in the healing tent with no one else here.

Flashback end

You sigh with a shaky breath not wanting to cry. Back to peaceful silence you were suddenly interrupted by Ao’nung and his gang. Things led to another. Ao’nung called Kiri a freak and you stepped in, “Do not call me sister a freak, I advise you leave us alone” Ao’nung looked at you giving you a smirk “Who are you to speak outcast, you’re just a loser in your own family” he laughed while you were close to punching him in the face. Lo’ak stepped in on time and then Neteyam came as well.

Lo’ak punches Ao’nung in the face and a while fight breaks out, Neteyam steps in too leaving you no choice to join as well. Being stronger than the rest, you took on most of them making sure Lo’ak and Neteyam aren’t harmed too much. The rest of them had started to gang up on you and purely just you. They kept pushing your brothers away so that they could beat you up.

It had gotten to the point where you were struggling to even throw a single punch at any of them. Eventually Jake and Tonowari came and broke up the fight. You were being dragged away, Jake having a strong grip on your arm making sure that there were bruises that were going to form. “Are you out of your mind y/n? What did I tell you NOT to do huh?”

You were at your snapping point

“What did you want me to do!” finally talking back.

“My sister and brothers were in trouble and as their older sister I went and protected them. YOU told me to protect them with my life and now I am being yelled at for something that isn’t my fault?” you felt your chest aching again, tears flooding your eyes.

“All my life I have done nothing but protect them and watch over them, but what about me HUH WHO IS PROTECTING ME, WHO IS LOOKING OVER ME” tears now freely flowing down your face.

Jake was shocked to say the least but instead of trying to comfort you or try to talk it out with you, he just yelled again.

“GET OUT, I do not want to see your face right now”

Neytiri had walked into the middle of the argument, just standing there shocked. When Jake had yelled for you to get out, you looked at your mom to see if she would say anything. Nothing came out, you couldn’t believe what you were witnessing and stormed out of the mauri.

You call for your Ikran, wanting to fly far away from your parents for the night. You spot a small island, you land and just lay down on the sand looking up at the sky. You break out crying again. Sobbing uncontrollably, and yelling and screaming, throwing sand. You were so frustrated that you couldn't help but cry.

Lo’ak was there to witness it all and his heart hurt for you. All his life you protected him and not once did he really notice how you felt. He felt like the worst brother in the world knowing that this is how you felt. He stormed into the Mauri ready to yell at his dad and mom

“Sir what i’m about to say i will not apologise for. My sister has done everything for me, she took care of me, protected me, comforted me. All you do for her in return is neglect and yell at her and for what?” he starts to choke up, tears slowly forming.

“Everything she has done was for us and not ONCE have you given her a break. She protected us from getting hurt today and during the raids. She got hurt the most and yet you care so little for her. I know for a fact that you guys loved her at one point because she talked so highly about you guys and apologising for your actions when we have our talks”

Jake and Neytiri just stare at Lo’ak trying to form sentences but nothing comes out. Lo’ak scoffs in disbelief

“If you open your eyes for once in your life, maybe you can be proud of her for once instead of disappointed. At this point I can’t even tell if you guys love her anymore and that is what disappoints me the most. The least you guys could do is let her talk and not yell at her for once”

Lo’ak was now crying because all he wants is you to be happy. He has admired you ever since he was young and seeing you finally reach your snapping point broke him. Walking out of the Mauri, he sees Kiri, Neteyam, and Tuk all with tears in their eyes after hearing everything. They all collectively decided to find you now worrying where you ran off to.

Now almost eclipse, your siblings could not find you anywhere. They were extremely worried, worried that you may have gotten hurt more or lost. With Jake and Neytiri, they now worry too. With everything that had happened, they looked at each other now knowing what they had done wrong. Guilt is what they felt, most of their lives they had thought of you as a burden after having Tuk. They never knew why it felt that way, maybe it was from the stress of having 5 kids. Though that isn’t an excuse for their behaviour and they know it.

They had not realised that what once was the light of their lives was now fading. Faded to the point where they might resent them forever. This thought had broken them, wanting to repair the damage that they had and become a happy family again.

_______________________________________________________________________

Lo’ak decided to fly out and see if you were any small islands while the rest continue to search around Awa’atlu. After a couple minutes, he sees a small figure and a dark blue Ikran on an island. He quickly descends towards you.

“Y/N!”

You raise your head to see where the sound had come from. You see Lo’ak running towards you, now jumping in your arms.

“Lo’ak what are you doing here” your voice hoarse from all the crying and screaming.

“You had me worried sick when I couldn’t find you. I heard everything that happened”

You pull Lo’ak away from your embrace.

“Lo’ak you should head back, da- Jake and Neytiri are probably looking for you”

He froze, hearing you call their parents by their names like they were strangers. Never in his life would he hear you say their names. It is like you now separated yourself from the family. How that made him even more upset towards his parents.

“No, I am staying here with you because I am your brother and I worry for you. It is my turn to sit and listen while you talk about your problems”

You huffed knowing that Lo’ak wouldn’t go, but you appreciate him for that. You both sat down properly, you looked out to the sea while Lo’ak is still looking at you waiting for you to talk.

“Before any of you were born, Jake and Neytiri were always smiling and happy with me. We played, talked, and loved each other… They had told me that I was the light in their dark times. Told me how I somehow lifted up the mood anywhere I went and that made them so proud of me.”

Tears are now forming again but you held back not wanting to cry in front of your brother. Not wanting to look vulnerable. Lo’ak continues to listen, surprised how happy their parents used to be with you.

“Neteyam was born, nothing much changed apart from their attention being more on him now that he was the first born son. Everything was still normal, everyone was still happy. Once the rest of you were born, everything suddenly changed. I wasn’t a priority anymore to them. I was just a burden who happened to be related to them. Once I started training, never did I have one break. They worked me to the bone till I was exhausted and at some point I just collapsed.”

Both of you were now crying. Lo’ak had felt so much guilt not knowing this was happening, how cruel their parents were. Never in his life did he want to witness you cry because in his eyes you were always so strong even after being yelled at for his and Neteyams mistakes.

“These days it is like I am now the darkness that fills the room when I am near them. The light does not exist to them anymore, not in their eyes. I am just another being they have to keep alive. I have even thought about just running away but that never happened because I had you guys by my side. Without you guys, I don’t know what I might’ve done”

You took a long pause. Lo’ak took this as his turn to speak. You worried about what he may say.

“All my life I thought that I was a disappointment in mom and dads eyes… Now hearing how you feel and knowing how they felt about you makes me so angry how I didn’t realise you were feeling this way. I always thought you never took things to heart because they loved you and were just worried. I admired the fact that you were always so calm when it came to being yelled at by dad. I admired how strong of a warrior you became. I admired that you understood how upset I was after my arguments with dad. I am so sorry that I never realised you were hurting this bad”

Lo’ak now sobbing, you pulled him into a hug and he hugged you back tightly. Slowly stroking his head, you guys had stayed in that position for a good while before pulling away.

“Lo’ak, never ever be sorry for something you can’t see. It was my burden to deal with. I am the older sister, it was my responsibility. Protecting all of you is something I will always do without hesitation whether or not it gets me killed.” You now sat in silence looking out to the horizon. Turning to Lo’ak you speak again.

“It is best you head off before you start to worry everyone else”

“I am not leaving you here alone”

“Lo’ak, head back, I will be okay. Make sure to tell the rest of them that I am fine but I just need some time to myself for a little bit okay?”

Lo’ak nods, not wanting to leave but decides that it’s best to not worry his other siblings more than they already are. With that you watch Lo’ak fly away while you stay seated on the sand. Once his figure disappears you lay back down and think back on the days you were happy and free. Slowly drifting into sleep, thinking if you’d ever be that happy again.

_____________________________________________________________________

Waking up, you groan while stretching. Eyes puffy from the other day and mouth dry in need for some water. You prepare kxamtxon to head back “home” that was the one thing you were dreading. You were nervous especially after snapping at Jake the other day. You continue flying for a couple more minutes, mentally preparing yourself for the worst. You reach shore, you pat Kxamtxon off and head towards your family's Mauri. You start picking at your skin on your fingers, a habit you developed at a young age when you were nervous.

You slowly enter hoping that it would just be your siblings present in the Mauri. Once in you only see Neytiri. She was waiting for you to return so that she could have a chance to speak with you after yesterday's events. “y/n…” She sits up quickly walking towards you with worried eyes. You wondered why she was acting like this, but in a way it felt comforting. But still being upset from the other day you brushed those feelings off.

“I have been so worried, where did you go? Why didn’t you come back with Lo’ak?”

She tried grabbing your shoulders as a sign that she cared but you brushed her off. Seeing that you didn’t want her touching you she backed off though feeling a little hurt.

“I just needed time to myself. You didn’t have to worry, this is the first time i’ve seen you this worried in a while” You chuckled dryly.

That response broke Neytiri even more knowing that yesterday may have ruined her relationship with you forever. Looking back on the days you were younger, you were so happy. Looking at you now, you look as if she had abandoned you.

“If that is everything, I will be heading back out. I do not know if I will be back tonight but I will be here tomorrow.” With that you left the Mauri leaving Neytiri alone with her thoughts.

You went to go seek for your siblings but only finding Neteyam, Kiri, and Tuk. You greet them with a small smile while they all come running to you, pulling you into a big hug. You had asked them how they were doing and apologised for worrying them. They didn’t care and kept hugging you for a little while more.

“Where is Lo’ak? I thought he would be with you guys.”

“He went to apologise to Ao’nung for punching him the face” Neteyam chuckled

Although odd my Lo’ak would have to apologise for that, you laughed it off as well. Enjoying the day hanging out with your siblings and even Tsireya. Tsireya tried to naturally add Lo’ak in your conversations and that made you smile knowing Lo’ak had someone that could take care of him in the future. While you carry on with your conversation you start to worry a bit due to Lo’ak taking so long for one apology.

All of a sudden you hear abrupt laughter from behind you. You see Ao’nung and his ugly gang laughing at something while they were talking amongst themselves. One thing you noticed is that your brother is not anywhere near them. You stood up quick striding towards Ao’nung.

“Ao’nung where is my brother?”

He looks a bit scared for a second before giving you a smug smile.

“Oh, him? We just took him out hunting but he wanted to stay out a bit longer… alone”

His so called friends behind him started to snicker. That makes you even more concerned and angry. So you grab him by the ear and repeated again with a much more menacing tone.

“Where. Is. My. Brother.”

Now scared, Ao’nung told you quickly not wanting to get hit by you again. Him saying that they left him alone past the reef had you sprinting to where the ilu were. As you reach near the Ilu, you hear the blows go off. You ditch your idea and head right towards where the alarms were coming from. Heart racing not knowing whether your brother was hurt or even if it was your brother.

Finally reaching your destination, you see Lo’ak. You sprint to him, engulfing him in the biggest hug ever. You pull apart checking to see if he had any injuries on him, nothing but small scratches. You finally let a breath of relief come out of you knowing he wasn’t hurt or dead. Just behind him you see Jake, you’ve been avoiding him at all costs but now you see him once again. Ready for more scolding of where you were.

Instead he brings both of you into an embrace, tight as if he was scared you’d disappear. Your heart swells a bit but again you pushed those feelings aside, still not being able to forgive for what he has done. Breaking the hug Lo’ak spot Ao’nung and ready to lunge at him before you stop him. Tonowari apologises and makes his son kneel to apologise as well. Your brother suddenly takes the blame and you look at him with concern in your eyes.

Walking away you catch up to Lo’ak and hooked arms together while you pat his head for comfort. Seeing Ao’nung pop up beside you guys, you were ready to talk to him but Lo’ak stopped you saying it was okay. You just gave Ao’nung a death stare knowing if he did something again he would be dead to you.

______________________________________________________________________

Everyone had now gone to sleep, you went to take a late night fly with your Ikran. You had named her kxamtxon since she looked like the midnight sky. Dark blue with lighter blue signatures accompanied with white. Gliding in the sky you felt at peace once more knowing there would be nothing bothering you at this moment. That was until Jake was flying towards you.

He signalled you to land on the small island you were heading towards. As much as you didn’t want to speak to him you nod at him. Both landing, you had sat on the sand and pat next to you. He sat down and began to speak.

“You know when you were younger, you had always mentioned that you would get an Ikran that looked like the night sky. Especially with how much you loved stargazing.”

You look at him wondering why he would bring that up now. Curious, you continue letting him talk.

“You were always such a bright kid, everyone loved you, I loved you, your mother loved you. We still do… I’m sorry we haven’t been showing it you these past years, I've kept making excuses saying I was busy with your younger siblings. What a lame dad I've become huh. Having you snap at me gave me a reality check and seeing you so upset and crying made me regret so much.”

You see him choking up, you had tears in your eyes too because you’ve longed for your father to talk to you like this. Being vulnerable to each other, sharing each other's feelings, that’s all you wanted. Seeing him like this felt like your dad was back, the dad you had when you were a baby. You begun to speak up in a wobbly voice.

“You hurt me so much you started being harsh on me and ignoring me. You have been such a terrible father to me, even to your own sons. I need to realise that everything you do affects us all. You need to stop yelling at Lo’ak all he wants is your attention, for you to SEE him. Instead you’ve been so focused with this war that you’ve forgotten how to understand how we feel. The last time I've heard you say that you see me was when I was only an infant.”

Taking in all this and processing it had Jake in shambles. Not once did he realise how much of a shit father he has been to his own children, especially to you, his light. He knows he can’t blame the war or the sky people because he was the root of the problem since the beginning. He wants to embrace you and say he is sorry over and over again but even he knows that he can’t repair the damage he’s caused.

“I want to forgive you I really do, but with everything you’ve done to me… I don’t think it will be easy for me to trust you again. I am sorry.”

“No, don't be sorry, it’s all my fault and I know that now. I will work hard to earn your trust back even if it takes months or even years. I want to be your dad again.”

He grabs your hand giving it a small squeeze and you squeeze back to give a small reassurance that you’re okay with that. Sitting in silence gazing at the stars, you feel like a child again. Being able to lay down beside your dad pointing out your favourite stars, your heart finally settles to calming beats. This is what you longed for and you finally got it after years.

Heading back together you had a content smile on your face. Returning you see Neytiri waiting once again with worried eyes. You walk towards her with arms open and you finally embrace into a warm hug. She was shocked but hugged you back immediately seeing her daughter is finally back. Going into the Mauri, finally able to sleep peacefully without having to worry about anything. What you didn’t know was the events that were going to happen in the future.

_______________________________________________________________________

Waking up it was loud with na’vi jumping in the water with excitement. You came out and saw Tsireya running towards you guys stating that the Tulkun had returned. Turning towards the ocean, a beautiful scene of tulkun jumping and na’vi going towards them with joy. You all join them witnessing everyone finding their sisters and brothers. Rotxo introduced his brother to you, Kiri, and Tuk and rode on his fin, gliding through the water. Neteyam and Ao’nung chasing each other on their Ilu. Tsireya talking about Lo’ak to her sister. Everything was perfect.

Jake and Neytiri had put more effort into talking to you and laughing like old times. Neytiri even gave you new jewellery, with beautiful shells and beads mixed together. Again everything was perfect. Perfect until we saw Ronals sister's floating along with her calf. Everyone with looks of despair now enraged. Yelling and shouting from the clan ready to fight the sky people for what they had done. Jake yelling to not attack, but to tell the tulkun to go somewhere far away. Showing that if they are hit with the tracker they are marked for dead. Hearing that you turn to Lo’ak, watching him run to get an Ilu to warn payakan. You ran after him along with the rest of the kids.

Jumping in the water getting an Ilu chasing after Lo’ak, your heart now racing once again. Reaching payakan, he was in fact marked for death.

“Shit” you mumbled under your breath

All of you are struggling to pull the tracker off as the ship gets closer and closer towards you all. With a final tug it came loose, you took it in your hands and told everyone to go while you led them away from them.

Skypeople now chasing all of us under the water. Your heart is now beating at an extreme pace. Worried that your siblings could get hurt. From a distance you see Tsireya, Tuk, and Lo’ak being scooped up in a net from an avatar and their Ikran. Then Kiri was grabbed by another Ikran. You yelled trying to get to them as fast as you could but you were too late as they were now on the boat. You turned trying to find your father to tell him that they had been captured.

Now in a situation where your brother and sisters were stuck in a hostile position. You and Neteyam were waiting on the sidelines to see if we could anything to help but instead seeing your father move forward. At that moment you knew he was sacrificing himself and you couldn't do anything. Thinking that you’ve failed as both a daughter and sister, a sudden burst through the water showed payakan landing on the boat.

Everyone charging forwards ready to fight for their lives. You and Neteyam went forward to the ship to help your siblings. Payakan gets rid of most of the people on board, you and Neteyam jumped up. You surprise your siblings, cutting their restraints, giving each of them a hug. You hurry them off, telling them to get to safety. Then Lo’ak suddenly stops.

“We need to get spider!”

You had almost forgotten about him. Though deep in your gut you had a bad feeling. You knew something was going to go wrong but Lo’ak kept insisting. Finally agreeing, the three of you snuck on trying to find Spider. Once you spot him, you all jump down to kill off the surrounding men.

“Hurry let’s go”

You said desperation, the feeling in your stomach still not fading. Quickly trying to find the way out, you were now being shot at. All ducking for cover, you grab the gun that Lo’ak had grabbed.

“Lo’ak, Spider, be ready to run first and jump into the water on my signal okay?”

They nod. You gave them the signal, they started running as you begun to shoot at the soldiers. Seeing they made it safely, it was now Neteyams' turn then you. You gave him the signal thinking it was safe. You glance over seeing the gun being pointed at him. It was like everything was in slow motion. You dropped your gun running towards Neteyam and finally jumping in front of him.

You felt something odd hit your chest. You both land in the water, swimming up to the surface you see that Neteyam was alright cheering with Spider and Lo’ak. Then it struck you, you were struggling to stay on the surface and feeling the searing pain coming from your chest.

“N-Neteyam L-Lo’ak”

They both snapped their heads toward you, seeing you struggle they had swam over to quickly. Both in shock calling for their Ilu.

“No no y/n, stay awake okay? You’re going to be okay. NETEYAM help me put her on the Ilu!”

Grabbing you they lift you on the Ilu, now riding quickly towards their parents keeping pressure on your gushing wound. Lo’ak crying, trying not to believe that this was happening right now. Neteyam heavily focused on trying to keep the blood inside with tears running down the sides of his face. Finally reaching their parents, they carefully try to get you on top of the rock.

“Careful hold her head”

Jake couldn’t believe what he was witnessing with his own eyes. His sons carrying their daughter, covered in her blood. Neytiri now flying down with her Ikran, could not believe what she was witnessing either.

“NO Y/N, no my precious daughter”

They had just gotten her back but now she was fading again, Their light was now fading again. Their light was now fading again after being relit. Struggling to breathe you get some words out

“Dad take care of everyone, promise me”

Now wheezing to breathe. Jake grabs your hands and rests his other hand on your cheeks.

“No no you gotta stay awake babygirl, we still have so many nights to go stargazing together an-and we’re gonna go hunting together okay? Sounds good right?”

Jake now struggling to get words out as his first born daughter now struggles to breath.

“No dad, promise me you’ll take care of everyone, don’t blame anyone or yourself okay? P-promise me that.”

“I promise I swear, and i'll take care of you to okay?”

“I want to go home da-”

The light in your eyes had faded. Silence now fills your ears, finally peace overcomes your body as it stills in Jakes arms.

“Y/n? Y/N? NO oh great mother no please PLEASE”

Neytiri continues yelling and praying to bring you back. Lo’ak crying hysterically seeing his sister fade in his dads arms. Neteyam goes numb looking at the scene unfolding before him. Tsireya massages your legs to get circulation going, praying that you were just unconscious. The light in their lives is now gone forever.

Jake turns to see that his daughters are now also missing. Asking Lo’ak where they are, saying they are still on the ship near the moonpools. Lo’ak wanted to help but was told to stay put with his sister. Neteyam and Tsireya caressing your now cold body. Neteyam now sobs knowing that his older sister is now gone forever. The sister he was able to confined to when he was overwhelmed with the pressure of being the next oloeyktan. He sister who would take the blame for both his and Loaks mistakes. The sister that could make him smile in any given situation. His light… gone.

_______________________________________________________________________

Pure blinding light, that’s all you can see. An aching feeling within you surfaces as you slowly realise where you are. With Eywa, the mother of pandora. You realised that you were dead. Adjusting to the light, you were in the forest. Specifically inside your old home. You walk around, grazing your fingers over the objects you used to have when you were younger. Now walking outside, you head towards the top of the tree. You walk towards a certain spot where you would stargaze. Laying down, you close your eyes and let go.

_______________________________________________________________________

Quaritch now having Tuk and Kiri, he had mentioned that Jake didn’t want to lose another daughter. Both Kiri and Tuk stared blankly at him, knowing the only daughter left was you.

As fights went down, Neytiri and Jake both ran off of adrenaline and rage. Killing off all the soldiers. Finally reaching their daughter Tuk but Kiri in the hand of quaritch with a knife to her throat.

The ship slowly sinking, Neytiri and Tuk trapped, Jake slowly drowning. Jake's last thought before going unconscious was how much he had let you down. Blaming himself for the little time he gave himself to make amends with you. Thoughts now disappeared as he resurfaced with Lo’ak beside him.

Everyone is now making it out together, hugging each other, crying together. They went back to the rock to retrieve your body. Tuk and Kiri now seeing your still body, they cried their hearts out. Tuk holding onto your arm and Kiri holding your head in her lap.

The funeral was now happening. They gently placed your body into the large leaf, slowly going out towards the anemone, the light. Carefully removing you from the floating leaf, they slowly ascend down into the water. Gently placing you in the bed of anemone, slowly watching as you sink the light consuming your body. Energy now returned to Eywa.

On land, Ao’nung, Tsireya, Rotxo, all silently mourning as they saw you as an older sister as well. You helping Tsireya with small chores and gossiping about different things especially Lo’ak. Teasing Ao’nung like a younger brother when he does something embarrassing. Helping Rotxo with his grandma and lending tips into becoming a better warrior. They too lost a little bit of light that day.

The family is now approaching the spirit tree. They all attach their queues to be able to see you. First Lo’ak, he saw the memory of you comforting him after having a tough day with their father. She was able to cheer him up with simple words. He saw how they now playfully fought each other. How he missed hearing your joyous laughs and your comforting words.

Neteyam saw the memory of them when they were much younger. He was struggling to shoot a bow properly. Frustrated that he couldn’t get it right, you came over and helped him. No harsh words being said, just smooth guidance which put him at ease. Seeing how patient you were with him and how kind your words were, he really saw how much light you really emitted.

Tuk had the memory of them flying on her Ikran. One of her favourite memories of them together. You had taken Tuk on a joyride with your Ikran. Tuk screams with excitement and you laugh with her. Flying in circles and doing quick loops. That day was amazing for Tuk. It was such a freeing feeling.

Kiri, the memory that came to mind was having a quiet talk about how she feels her, how she feel eywa. You were the only one she could talk to because she knew you would not judge her. She talked about how she felt her breath and how she courses throughout the plants. You listened in amazement, seeing how close of a connection she had for Eywa. Kiri saw how you didn’t judge her once at all and just watched you watch her in amazement.

Neytiri had the memory of when you were merely a baby. The first sight of the light of her life. She remembers how you held her finger, how you giggled at the smallest things she did. Your constant smile was the light keeping the darkness away from her. Looking at the memory, she had a soft smile on her face.

Jake, he had spotted you in your spot. He saw you laying there, eyes closed. He slowly walks towards the spot. You hear noise, and open your eyes just to see your dad sitting down beside you. You saw tears forming in his eyes and gently grabbed his hand.

“Do you remember when I was younger, we would always come up here to stargaze?”

He turns toward the sky, his hand still in yours.

“Of course, you would always drag me because I was walking to slow”

Laughing at his answer because he was right. You would have to pull him by his arm to hurry up not wanting to miss a single star going away even though they wouldn’t disappear.

“I really missed moments like this… being able to hangout with my dad in peace”

“I missed these moments too, much more than I realised”

You watch as his tears fall down his cheeks. Seeing this made you start tearing up as well. You pull him into a hug knowing he won’t have this anymore in real life. You whisper quietly while your head is tucked in his chest.

“I forgive you”

Jake's eyes went wide, wondering why you had forgiven him when he didn’t deserve it.

“I don’t want you to blame yourself dad, I know we never had the closest relationship but I want everyone to be happy even if I’m not there.”

He hugs you tighter not wanting to let go. Sobbing and wondering how he ever deserved you ever.

“Nga yawne lu oer, Oel Ngati Kameie”

“Oel Ngati kameie, Nga Yawne lu oer sempu”

With that he opens his eyes, looking at the rest of his family with smiles on their faces looking at their memories with you in them. Now knowing that the light will always be lit because it you will always be present in their hearts.

#jake sully x daughter #neytiri x reader #neteyam #loak #kiri avatar #tuktirey #avatar the way of water #avatar fanfiction #avatar 2 #angst #jake sully x reader

1K notes · View notes

secretlythepits · 4 months ago

Text

Just a Rant

I don’t think I told you guys how hard it was to get my kids registered for school this year. Both kids had their own issues that seemed to clog the system so they required dozens, and I do mean dozens of emails to counselors, registrars, principals, the school district, an educational lobbyist, the state DOE. And this was in the midst of finding about my husband’s cancer and what treatment would be.

Today one school called and said they needed health forms they never told me about. Then a teacher who runs a program at one school wanted me to switch my other kid back to his program. Details I handled, but like please, oh please let this be done. It is taking so much of my attention. Also, the kids are taking some online classes through the state and haven’t been assigned teachers yet, so we’re twiddling our thumbs (an old-fashioned euphemism I’m repackaging to mean f%*king video games!) instead of doing school work.

Then the dentist appointment that was supposed to happen before school had to be rescheduled because the dentist’s entire computer system crashed. There’s an orthodontist appointment next week too, a new addition to our busy lives. And my husband has treatment on Friday.

When am I supposed to be able to work?

When am I supposed to be able to have some time to focus on my goals and my health?

It’s not just me crying for space in my life. Things like my husband’s pain are alarms saying: you might have to be the sole provider at any minute. And I literally cannot do that now. I need a chance to complete my project and get it to market. I cannot take care of everybody and build a career out of nothing at the same time. Besides preferring this kind of work, I can’t commit to a traditional job right now because my caregiving and mom schedules are just too demanding and unpredictable. I have no help. My friends will step in during an emergency. My in-laws did nada during our first cancer journey. My family and my dearests and on the opposite coast. Nobody is ever going to pick up the slack but me.

Still, work has to happen. These little scares, because that’s what I have to assume my husband’s pain is, feels like the Universe snapping me to attention and warning me that my time before the catastrophe is running out.

And my brain.

I’m having more and more slips. I can’t remember words. Say wrong words. Can’t access memories from a couple weeks ago. Had a couple of spells when I couldn’t walk. I need to have some calm, peace, and open stretches of time to calm my nervous system. I felt like I was 95% better, but now I’ve fallen to 85- 88%. It worries me.

(I will say I have an odd relationship with my brain, because as much as I struggle with the detail, conceptually, I’ve never felt so smart. It honestly feels like my brain damage has both good and bad sides to it. it’s counterintuitive, I know, but I think I’m right.)

The dentist just showed me I cracked a tooth from clenching. I wake up in full body clenches many nights. I cannot be mindful when I am unconscious.

Many people in my support system are educators so they are in the back to school overwhelm. There isn’t anything they could say or do to help so I’m just sitting here with very big feelings. I’m supposed to ground my husband and protect my kids.

Yet again a mom is asking: Who is looking out for me?

And I am worried about what the doctor will say tomorrow. It could be very bad or relatively ok. Even ok would bother me since it’s so much aggravation and added stress for nothing. But of course, added stress for something is much worse. Aaaaaaahg!

Good night. I’m grabbing my ice packs and a book about chocolate and praying for sweet dreams.

11 notes · View notes

syngigeim · 2 months ago

Text

Day 29 - Blow Up

“Cecetu! Esteemed rival and my cherished companion!” Chotan said, smiling wildly at his fellow Black Mage across the table, who was a stone-faced as ever. He called her out after that latest check in with Cerigg and the mysterious child named Taynor. “I called you here for, seeing those children today...” Seeing Traynor and that other child fight and reconcile. “...It made me think. Are you perhaps, lonely?”

Cecetu gave the most disgusted face he had ever seen. “I. Am. PERFECTLY. Fine.” She said through gritted teeth.

“Now now, when a lady makes a face like that, and says things like in that sort of way, one gets the exact opposite idea,” He said, chuckling.

“What makes you believe I’d tell you anything about me personally?” Cecetu said, rising up out of her seat. Only one question and she was already willing to come to blows. He would have to do something about it.

“Because we’re comrades and rivals! We destroyed a meteor! Stole from and exposed my father’s wrongdoings! Surely at this point, we would be considered friends?”

Cecetu folded her arms and glared at Chotan. “Friendship requires mutual respect. And you don’t care about anyone and anything other than yourself!”

Chotan was shocked. Aggrieved. Hurt! “Now that’s a lie. I care very much about you, my friend!”

“...Do you? You talk about how I’m the greatest rival and your best friend but do you actually care? Haven’t I made it clear that I hate you? Despised you ever since you strode up bragging about how you’re the next greatest Black Mage Eorzea will ever see, clearly not even noticing or caring that I changed? That maybe, I was in a stressful situation in my life, with my mother locked up, accused of being an accessory to regicide! That I wanted to just make myself into something that wasn’t tied into the city that always hated me! And then there was you!” She said pointing in his face. “Flaunting my old job, being the pompous arsehole you always are! You still are! All you’ve been talking about is that ‘Taynor is the key to all of this!’ I may not be the most sensitive of person, but even I can tell. You’re just thinking about the neat mystery that can be solved! And a chance to show off how cool you are! Because that’s all you aim to be! Just the most grandest and best mage ever, not even caring about anything else! Because what else do you have?!”

A business, that I am learning to manage. Loads of money, and lots of people who see me as only a vector to that money. He was quiet for a bit, pondering how to organize those thoughts into something that wouldn’t hopefully anger her further. “I own Sasaki’s Treasures, a store for strange and exotic goods, of imports and exports of strange antiquities. I impressed my father, by sneaking off with one of his own precious relics, a job stone, and returning with skills unparalleled, beating out my siblings for ownership, not by any business sense I might have gained in Ul’dah, or my connections with Rowena, but by mastering a strange and lost art. I understood my father in a way my siblings didn’t. And what did that get me? Ownership of the precious store, and hatred. Hatred that was always there as the bastard-born, but was now blatant.” He wanted to bring up that Cecetu and him were both bastard children. He saw the pale scales along her ear. He was too short for a typical Au Ra. He took a breath instead. “With my connections in Eorzea, I’ve managed to bring new customers and new trade. But everyone wants a piece of me, to take that part for themselves. And so, I stood my ground and firmly planted myself into something different. Something they can’t take. Trader of antiquities and black mage extraordinaire, such an exotic art, now resurrected from beyond!”

“One that is still forbidden,” Cecetu murmured. “It’d be one thing if you managed to pick up Thaumaturgy, but-”

“And yet, I managed to succeed, all through trial and error. On my own. Alone. And when I heard there was another, I was so elated! Someone to share in this gift! A rival that could keep pressing me to greater heights. And what did I find but someone who forsook her art. So it was up to me to become what you couldn’t. And I kept encouraging you, yes? To come back?” He gave a sad chuckle. “Sadly, it was Shattoto, and only her, who managed to bring you in. You had her skills after all. That, and with the heist of my father’s job stones, and revealing his corruption, I thought...even if you were angry all the time, it was just how you were. Because we were still companions.”

Cecetu looked to the side. “You never understood, and never noticed. I don’t know if I will ever like you.”

Chotan felt his heart break. He closed his eyes, preventing the tears that were welling up to break loose. But we have so much in common. He didn’t understand.

“...I’m going to patrol the sands,” Cecetu said, sliding off her chair.

A Mord walked up to Chotan. “Oh boy! Mean lady! Never mind any words, never mind! Surely you need a drink and something to fill your stomach to feel better!”

Chotan got up and out of the table. He didn’t know where he was going to go. Maybe back to trying to learn Norvarandt’s language, maybe to whatever tomes he could find in the Source. But he needed to be alone.

Q’hara gave a low whistle. The table the two were sitting at was not too far from where he and Cerigg and Traynor were lingering around and they weren’t exactly being the most quiet. “Well that was…honestly, felt like something that needed to be long said between the two of them.”

Cerigg nodded. “Much of that flew over my head but they need some time to think.”

Taynor just glanced down at the ground, not saying much. “Not your fault, kid. Her grudge against him has been brewing for a long while,” Q’hara said. He nodded but Q’hara was sure the kid was still taking it personally. Ah well. He would see how they acted together next time and go from there.

Q’hara, for one, was just grateful that Syngigeim did like and respect him as a fellow mage rival and that he had no conflicts with her whatsoever!

#ffxivwrite2024 #chotan sasaki #cecetu cetu #q'hara tia #cerigg #taynor #It has to get worse before it gets better!#also -laughs at q'hara in dawntrail-

0 notes

vines-of-ivy · 6 months ago

Text

A thing I’ve found difficult is the realisation that maybe I need to give Muay Thai a real break. An actual planned break. Because I keep stressing about not going when I can’t help the reason I haven’t been consistent this year. It’d be better if I just mentally said nah so I don’t feel guilt for keep telling myself I will go and then not doing it.

My reunion with my old friends was definitely needed. I think that it’s not just that I feel like I don’t get care from people often enough anymore, it’s that weight of the past and believing I spent all those years at uni around people who secretly hated me haunting my mind since I’ve been back in the city. Seeing old friends who I lived with and still adore and see how much they still adore me reminds me that I didn’t spend those years just convincing myself things were better than they were? If that makes any sense.

Those thoughts are probably why I can’t commit to Muay Thai anymore. I saw a Leo Skepi short and he verbalised exactly what it was I’ve been dealing with. Because why do I feel too tired and too busy to do the things I used to enjoy? Why do the easier things in life feel harder than the normal things? It’s because I was in stressful situations for so long and am still very hyperaroused. All the things I’ve had to do on my own since coming back to England - it’s had an effect on me even if it hasn’t been as extreme as it could be for others.

I can’t really ‘remember’ how I used to be when I first met these guys but talking to them brought out the best of my memories. I used to throw myself into everything and push past anything that looked like negative emotions just because I was at uni and I was gonna do everything while I had the chance. I was gonna drink all the booze, make all the friends, join all the clubs and I had massive FOMO about everything. I would cook elaborate meals and experiment while staying keto. I’d spend my time updating my wardrobe because I never had my own money to do it before. I was finally out of my parents’ house and wasn’t going to let my bereavement block my blessings. My uncle would be proud of me adopting his positivity. It kept me fit, involved and very popular.

But since the assault and the way a lot of people reacted toward me in my second year before COVID, I spiralled backwards, stopped showing up to things and gained a bunch of weight because I’d developed, not quite agoraphobia, but being stalked took its toll on my energy and self-assuredness. I never really got to heal from that and get used to being in the real world again because next thing I knew, I was in Japan.

I still haven’t gotten used to cooking for myself like I used to and have wasted to much money on apps because I feel exhausted. But now I can at least make sense of my exhaustion, I can learn what it actually means to prioritise myself again. And when I learn how to do that, I can go back to Muay Thai again and really enjoy it more.

I still love the guys and will go to social things until I feel better but I need to stop punishing myself for not showing up.

Instead of spending energy on things like that, I should go back to the foundation. I’m fat. Focus on losing the weight. I don’t cook anymore. Get back in the kitchen. My room’s always a mess. Put energy into your space. My skin looks bad? It doesn’t but you get the point. Without a solid base, I will fall apart easily.

#journal #Ive been staying s my grandma and she went to hospital when I was supposed to go this week lol #and I still felt bad #I need to focus in just being healthier in general

0 notes

bl6ckr0s3 · 2 years ago

Text

Anxiety Overload

Do you have any idea what it’s like to have so much stress and anxiety in your system bottling up in your system and you literally haven’t had the chance to completely release it fully? Well, it fucking sucks because that’s where I am at right now. While me and Josh had been doing Uber deliveries either after I get off work or right after we wake up around 1:30 pm or 2pm, it’s straight back to working on the road trying to make every dollar we can get by the end of the day, Mentally and physically it’s taking a toll on me and I know I said it myself that even if I have taken a 2nd job if I had to go make extra income, this would be my other job. I would like to make a good living off of what I enjoy doing with photography. I would even consider applying for a 2nd job somewhere to do photography and try to better my skills and learn even more things that I have yet to learn. Sadly, my opportunity of bettering my skills with videography hasn’t given me the funds to be financially stable enough to buy the tools I need for my camera and that’s all I really need is that tool to hold my camera to have that stability of being able to record images without shaking. It would take a million years before Josh would allow me to do a project on him because he hates how he looks right now. His weight is the main factor and it has been for a long time, just like I wasn’t happy with my weight for the past 6-7 years until I finally worked hard in achieving my weight loss goal. I didn’t think it was possible for me to lose down to 120 lbs which was my maximum goal and I am so happy I have reached it after wishing for so long to be that skinny again. I will always want to retain my muscle and strength. Even though my weight has gone back up since our move to Tennessee because of all the delicious southern foods down here, I am trying to get back on track on controlling the portions of my food intake and trying not to over eat too much which is s habit that is hard to break because of growing up with a family who encourages for you to keep eating until you are full and they still want you to keep eating even though you are beyond full.

It’s not just the old Asian culture that is like this. It’s a family that grew up trying to survive because they almost could’ve died dealing with communist and genecide. They had nothing to eat, and they were starving a lot, coming to America poor with nothing. It pisses me off that my dad wants to sell the Pomona house after they have finally a home they own especially for a good deal in a state that’s so fucking expensive to survive in. What does it matter, it’s not my business anymore because this is the reason I can’t stand living under the same roof with my father. I refused to be controlled. Fuck society.

I been in my depressive state because of my current situation, and Joshua wasn’t helpful by telling me to go back to California. I had a talk with him and told him what he needs to work on in this relationship, because he lacks emotional affection and comfort and it’s not a good trait to have when the person who says he loves you doesn’t really show it physically. I understand he’s got his own issues with his own comfort, but it really isn’t hard to hold somebody and say everything will be ok even though it feels like it won’t for awhile. If you communicate with your partner about what they need to work on, you are giving them a chance to know where the relationship can fuck up if they neglect to. Joshua has a lot to work on and I am not sure how long it will take him to succeed with his goals/endeavors.

Struggling for a long time makes it harder to get thru day by day with your life unless you have things that can help alleviate your stress and pain. I need to attend some shows and shoot some bands. That is my therapy. That’s why I just do it and not concentrate on being paid for the work because it’s truly my therapy to help me keep going and enjoy life. If I only cared about money, I wouldn’t be any different than most of these typical humans of Los Angeles. I would just be another person that’s considered greedy and I am nothing like that. I hardly have any time now to be on my games which is a bummer because I hardly have any time to do anything for myself because of my job of being stuck on the machine. I just to go back to tour 3. I may not have to deal with the robots much if I am on that tour because I was told that they run the robots until afternoon.

0 notes

guy-j · 2 years ago

Text

Finals Season, Depression, and Things I Want to Experience Again.

It's finally the dreaded portion of the fall semester- the boss stage for those of us that haven't been keeping up with our studies, yet are too committed at this point to drop out, regardless of how necessary that might be. The thought of doing that, after all of the blood, sweat, and tears that have been shed on the journey to this hill, so the only way out is through.

I find myself spending the majority of my nights as I plan to today, hunched over my computer, writing like a madman, with math tutorial videos playing as company. It makes me feel like a maniac. After a while, the numbers become familiar, and I find myself stopping my writing and reflecting to attempt math problems, and yet, it doesn't get any easier. It's enough to make me laugh hysterically in my dorm, making me thankful when no one else is home. The stress is enough to shatter even the sanest among my peers, myself included. It's gotten to the point that I'm not sure how much more I can take of the constant pressure. I have a scholarship that runs out at the end of next semester, and a part of me feels that this could be my excuse to leave this hellhole and try the vast opportunities that the world supposedly has to offer.

I've had some very close calls these days. Recently, I got closer than I ever have to losing any chance at trying anything else in my life at all. I refuse to describe the event- none of you need to read it- but I was laying on the floor, phone in hand, tears streaming down my face, and I realized that I can't keep up with this any longer. Something needs to change or I will not make it out of here alive. I've always prided myself on my strength, my will, and my resolve to "keep on trucking", but next time I may not have the epiphany. I'm not sure what would happen the next time. This isn't healthy for me, and truthfully, I need to seek help for it, but my fear, the one that underlies all of my actions and drives me to do most things, prevents me. Why have humans evolved this mental block? What makes us say, "I can't tell anyone what I am experiencing", even when the alternative might kill us?

It's easy to tell people in similar positions to "seek help" if they begin to feel like the anxiety is seeping into the fissures of their mind and threatening to break the structure, but this is so much easier said than done. As I collapsed there, I called someone, the only person I could think of not being busy. This person was my lover at one point, and is now a dear friend- let's call them "N"- and the only person I could imagine not being occupied. Even in the total throes of despair, I felt like my unwellness was a burden to those I loved, for reasons the human mind can never explain. N picked up immediately, and I was tongue-tied. I didn't know what to say, so I simply said, "I just wanted to say hi, and let you know I love you." It isn't unusual for us to say that to each other, such is the depth of our shared experience, so I don't think they picked up on the desperation in my voice. "I love you" was the only way I could think of saying "I need help". N replied with a confused "I love you too, and...hi?" and I hung up.

It was one of the most terrifying moments of my life, and all I could do was tell this person that I loved them. N is not the closest person to me, not by a long shot, but they were at the top of my recent calls list for some odd reason. I'm not even sure if the call helped at all, but I got up, brushed myself off, and dried my face. Moments later, my brother and sister arrived, and I acted like everything was normal. For the rest of the evening, I was my normal self, despite the distress and fear I was under moments before. I wondered, as I was sitting there joking with everyone, how many other people had experienced this. Movies and awareness campaigns never show the person that acts as if nothing happened, although, of course, this wouldn't make for good TV I suspect.

I'm glad I am still alive. Since then, I have thought of all the things that I love about life, and while it's illogical to say that I would have missed them, I am glad that I can have a chance to experience them again. Listening to my favorite music, drinking my favorite drinks, eating my favorite food, reading my favorite books... and then above that, the creative experiences I love so much. Writing, drawing, composing, painting. I could have never spent another day in a comfortable chair sketching my dog. I could have never sang another song in the shower, or written a short story that brings joy to my friends. I could have spent my last moments in complete agony, crying over something as ridiculous as school grades. It's worth it to stay here, even if it's hard.

#mirrored #guy's text.#depression #anxiety #school

0 notes

cheekydogs · 2 years ago

Text

I got Wee Hen and Sunny some collars off Etsy!! I’m so in love with how they look on them ❤️

#cheeky barks #my plush: wee hen #my plush: sunny #life’s been so stressful and busy I haven’t even had a chance to show these guys off yet! they came in a few days ago #Sunny’s also has my phone number on it but I blacked it out ofc #I love them both but if I lost Sunny I think I would stop functioning #so have my number on his makes me feel a lot better #wee hen is out more so she doesn’t have my number on hers #since it’s more visible than a normal tag and a lot of creeps stop by my work #jellycat #webkinz #actually autistic #plush #plushblr #safeplush #webkinz signature

18 notes · View notes

astupidweeb69 · 2 years ago

Text

Unrequited (Yandere! Ticci Toby x Reader) Part 7

Links to Previous Chapters: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 & Part 6

Next Chapters: Part 8, Part 9

Author’s Note: Sorry I haven't been able to update as frequently. I've been unusually busy with moving out of my old apartment and traveling. Also for some reason I was having a huge case of writer's block for this chapter. Feel like it's not the best, but I've rewritten it like three times now and I just want to post something already lmao.

I also wanted to let you all know that for non-consensual content in this story, the kind of stuff in this chapter and chapter 4 are as far as it's going to go. If there is any actual smut later on, it'll be consensual.

Cross-posted on my Ao3 account which I update quicker.

Warnings: Swearing. Non-consensual touching/groping/kissing. Toby is creepy and horny idk what to tell you. (3,061 words).

*********************************************

He should have seen this coming.

By now Toby realized he couldn’t control himself when it came to you. Everything involving this relationship never matched his expectations. It threw him for a loop, sometimes in a good way, and other times, like this one, in a bad way.

The only thing going through his head on the walk to your home was his apology, the gift he would bring you, and how you’d eventually forgive him. That you would no longer view him as a threat and finally see how ridiculous the whole situation was.

But that’s not what happened.

After countless hours of thinking about what to say, he found the perfect words to describe how he felt. A way to show you just how romantic he could be and convince you to stay with him.

However, all these lovely ideas had been shot down prematurely.

You didn’t even allow him to enter your home peacefully. Not giving him the chance to fucking speak. And he was so sure he had calmed down enough. Certain that he looked stable, approachable, and harmless. He didn’t want to hurt you. He didn’t want to have to do the things he ended up doing.

But when you denied his feelings, told him to leave you alone, and tried to shut the door on him, what other choice did he have?

Sure, he hoped the two of you could have had a mature conversation. One that would end in a mutual understanding that you should continue seeing each other. And he would respect your boundaries this time, and not… touch you.

At least not a lot.

However, Toby made these promises to himself while he was on his own, desperate to do anything it took just to see you again. When he was sad, heartbroken, and feeling a bit gentler.

So, all these promises, all composure, completely flew out the window once he saw you. Saw how you reacted in horror at his very presence. And the overwhelming fear of having another person he cared for leave him took over. Toby was willing to do anything it took for his restless nights full of loneliness and agony to end. To finally have someone for his own, a tenderness his life was lacking.

He had you in his grasp, and he was going to dig his claws in to ensure that would never change.

He just wanted to get closer. Feel your skin. Feel your body. Your love. Feel it all.

His heart was ready to burst, making him foam at the mouth like a rabid animal.

And an animal he was.

Watching you run flipped a switch in Toby’s brain. The chase. The prey. The thrill of hunting you down. The inevitability of his victory.

Being a proxy wasn’t just a fancy title after all.

Of course, you had no way of knowing what you were up against.

Though admittedly, neither did he.

He expected you to put up a fight. The months spent stalking you, and how you stood up to him before, made that much clear to him. What he didn’t expect was how well you’d do.

Not many people without prior experience can think through their actions under extreme stress. But here you were, opening the balcony, having him question whether you’d already escaped. Hiding in the closet, bursting out when his guard was down, wielding a baton of all things? How you caught his leg, almost pushing him off the second story?

And nothing compared to the look in your eyes, that twisted smile on your face whenever you managed to land a strike. Foolishly believing you gained the upper hand.

The expression you had made him so fucking intoxicated at that moment. The sadistic glee he knew all too well, usually worn by him, gracing your features instead.

And it looked good.

He could have pounced on you all over again. Rip off your clothes. Make you scream for a completely different reason.

There would be plenty of time for that later though.

After knocking you out, panic settled over him seeing the aftermath. The little dance the two of you shared left a mess and he wanted to clean it as quickly as possible. It was a bit sloppy, but he managed to get most of it back in order. Probably not to the full extent he should’ve.

But it was all so exciting. Toby could hardly contain his joy as he carried your limp body over his shoulder, holding that duffel bag he found in the closet full of some of the things he thought you might need.

He felt like a kid in a candy store, finally getting their treat.

And what a treat you were going to be.

**********************************

Here you were now, lying in his bed still unconscious. Tucked carefully under the covers, a bandage on your head he placed there after cleaning the wound where he struck you.

He couldn’t really bring himself to feel bad about it. You were with him now. Contained. Trapped. Everything he had done leading up to this didn’t matter. All that mattered now was that he had you. The end justifying the means.

While he waited for you to wake up, Toby rummaged through your things to pass the time.

Obviously, he took the baton. Ignoring the fact that a weapon like that was hard to come by it also held sentimental value. The thing had brought the two of you together. A tool used to subdue another, something he could use in the future to tame that wildness you seemed to have. Only as a last resort though.

And then there was that pair of little brass knuckles he found at the bottom of the bag. He got a good chuckle out of it, picturing a tiny version of you on a playground getting into skirmishes with other children. Then bringing out the weapon on your small fist. That must’ve been a sight to behold.

Toby lifted his head at the sound of his bedsheets moving.

You were shifting in your sleep. He got up from the wooden chair and walked over, thrilled at the possibility you’d be joining him in the waking world soon.

It was so hard being patient.

Standing at the bedside, he watched your steady breathing.

Your chest rising and falling.

Eyes closed.

So vulnerable… so unaware.

Completely at his mercy.

A shiver ran through his body. Uncontrollable urges and sexual thoughts raced through his head. Why was it always so hard to suppress them around you?

He licked his lips, drool leaking from the exposed gash on his cheek.

His arm hesitantly reached out, hand trembling. Glancing up, he shamefully checked your face, making sure you were still asleep.

What you didn’t know couldn’t hurt you, right?

His hand grabbed your breast, giving it a harsh squeeze. He bit his lip trying his best to stifle a moan. His face was already turning red. It was too much for him to handle. They were so soft.

He tried to remember a time in his life when he touched someone else like this, but he came up empty. God, if he went any further, he was going to lose it.

You let out a small whimper, beginning to stir awake. Given the context, Toby interpreted the sound in a much more erotic way. Like you were subconsciously trying to egg him on. His breathing quickened; his hand still attached to that part of you as he clumsily tried to massage it. Trying to elicit more of those noises.

But you didn’t.

He was too careless.

It was impossible for him to gauge just how hard he was grabbing. Unable to know that it was painful.

Your eyes snapped open, and you let out a sudden, bloodcurdling scream.

Toby quickly jerked his arm away from you. His face was still flushed, rubbing the back of his head, acting like a kid that just got caught stealing cookies from a jar.

Not at all convincing.

You scrambled to the other side of the bed, attempting to get up and run out the room.

Toby made no effort to stop you. He knew you were still feeling the effects of your head wound. Your legs were shaking and threatening to collapse underneath you. Almost on cue, you fell forward not even making it to the door.

He snickered cruelly at the pathetic display.

It was adorable. You just looked so cute. So clumsy.

You turned your head looking back at him in fear.

Your fate rested in his hands. It made him feel powerful.

He cockily sauntered over, making a point to tower above you as you crawled on your knees back into a corner.

You formed your hands into fists, trying your best to get into a fighting stance, leaning halfway up on the wall.

A wicked grin formed on his face.

Was that supposed to be intimidating?

Please, you couldn’t even stand up! Much less actually defend yourself!

His shoulders shook, giggling uncontrollably.

Giggle soon escalating into a loud hysterical cackle.

He couldn’t help it.

It was hilarious.

“You fucking creep!”

He stopped.

Toby didn’t know how to feel watching your outburst. Was this anger bubbling up inside him? Shame? Fear? Amusement? Lust? He only knew that whatever it was, he was feeling it intensely. You looked so fucking mad at him, baring your teeth while gripping the sides of the walls trying to hoist yourself up.

“I knew it! I fucking knew it! You’re a total psycho!” You sneered. “I should have fucking killed you! Just hit you over and over with that baton!” He listened as you began throwing a bunch of crude insults at him, no longer putting sentences together.

Okay, he figured it out. He was angry.

Punching the wall next to him, his fist easily broke through the plaster, bits of white falling out as he retracted his arm back to his side.

You fell silent, eyes widening.

“Enough.” Toby snarled.

He didn’t like that. He didn’t like being called names. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to allow you to do it. You’re lucky he liked you so much. Anybody else would’ve been in for a world of hurt. But he could be patient with you. For now.

Breathing heavily to contain his rage, he attempted to collect himself. You’d gotten the message. He didn’t need to go further yet.

Looking down he saw your lower lip start to tremble. Your previous confidence starting to waver.

Despite this, you still managed to look him in the eye. It was only now he noticed that you always maintained eye contact when threatened. No matter how terrified you were. It was almost impressive.

And your stare was full of emotion. So much passion.

He searched for the words to describe the way your eyes sparkled. Especially with the tears threatening to spill from them.

Willful. Determined. Stubborn. Beautiful.

He smiled, his clenched fists relaxing.

Man, you really brought out a strange side of him.

“I uh-understand you’re probably a bit disoriented.” Toby playfully tapped his temple at the tiny mark where your baton hit him. “Head wuh-wounds can be kind of bitch, huh? Not that I wuh-would really know. But they can muh-make me a little woozy sometimes.” He joked.

It was kind of adorable now that he thought about it. You two having matching injuries on your heads. Sadly, it wouldn’t last. His head would fully heal, while yours would most likely leave a scar. But for the time being, it was like when couples wear matching outfits. Just more… extreme?

It was definitely on-brand for the relationship so far. Him, a killer. You, a feisty little thing with a tiny sadistic side he was dying to get to know more.

“You think…” He heard you swallow, blinking a couple of times as you were clearly trying to fight back some tears, “You think I’m just a little disoriented? You think that’s what’s happening right now? Why I’m upset?!”

Your voice was beginning to rise again. He needed to put a stop to it.

Toby knelt to your level, hearing you inhale sharply.

“Careful now, (Y/N), you better wuh-watch yourself. After all, I’ve buh-been really patient with you so far.”

His mouth curled into a shit-eating grin. Using the same words you said to him that night you tried to kick him out of your home made him feel confident now. All the mistakes he made leading up to this moment weren’t important. It was over. He didn’t have to pretend. He didn’t have to panic that you’d stop talking to him, and even if he did something that he knew bothered you, or fucked up, it’s not like you could leave.

Toby watched you process his words. You were looking more agitated by the minute, his threats being the only thing stopping you from insulting him again.

He was a bit of a tease; he could admit that.

Though in a weird turn of events, you flashed him a wry smile staring intently at his nose.

It took him a second to remember how you’d taken a swing at it earlier. It was probably still a little bruised and swollen. He’d almost forgotten about it after he set it back in place. You clearly didn’t.

Tilting your head to the side, an attractive smile spread across your face. He blushed, stomach fluttering.

“You know Toby…” You batted your lashes, making him move his face closer to yours in anticipation. “Has anybody ever told you that you have a very punchable face?”

He frowned. That wasn’t where he thought this conversation was going.

“No!” Toby faked an enthusiastic tone. “Anyone that puh-punches me typically doesn’t live long enough to tuh-talk about it!”

The muscles in his face started twitching. He was pissed. Maybe he’d been a bit too lenient before by only threatening you with words.

He roughly grabbed your chin in one hand, his other arm picking you up by the waist, forcing your entire body to lean on his.

He could feel you trembling, your breath shaky as he scanned your face. You stared back, eyeing him with apprehension.

Toby relished the little gasp you made as he smashed his lips against yours. They felt soft compared to his chapped ones. The texture and open sores around his scar smearing crimson on your skin.

He bit your lower lip hard enough to draw blood. Ignoring your cries of pain, Toby pulled on it with his teeth, sucking on the wound to get a taste.

Finally releasing your mouth, he admired how the beads of blood from the cut dribbled down your chin.

The metallic flavor lingered on his tongue. Familiar to him from the constant chewing of his flesh, now the result of your blood and his mixing together as one.

It was romantic in a way.

With a vice-like grip, Toby dragged you by the arm out of the bedroom and into the common area. You thrashed in his hold, scratching his arm and kicking his shins. But it was all in vain. He tossed you onto the ratty couch like a ragdoll and stood menacingly in front of you.

“I duh-don’t want to hurt you. But if you kuh-keep acting up I won’t hesitate to.”

He struggled to think of his next moves. On the one hand, he was upset you kept insulting him and wanted to punish your bad behavior. At the same time, he didn’t want you to be completely terrified of him. It was a difficult balancing act. Even more so considering all the different feelings he had right now.

You sat upright on the couch, staring at him while taking in your surroundings. The gears in your head were turning, and Toby could see the exact moment you realized you had no idea where you were.

The only thing outside the windows were trees that stretched on with no end. Nothing but branches and plant life at every angle. The middle of nowhere.

That might have been why you were acting this way, he noted. You hadn’t fully grasped the situation yet. Sure, you’d woken up in an unfamiliar place, but you were probably so scared and disoriented you didn’t realize you were completely isolated from civilization. That he hadn’t just taken you to some apartment in town. He had taken you someplace that made escaping impossible.

“Where… are we?” You sounded meek, barely even audible.

Toby smiled. Now you understood. “Home. Where you’ll buh-be staying from now on.”

Your face twisted in confusion, body tensing at his answer. “What?”

He didn’t respond. He wanted to watch you squirm a bit first.

Clearly, the silence was making you uneasy.

“What… is it that you want from me? Why are you doing this? Are you going to kill me?”

The last question came as a surprise. Why would you think something like that? Sure, he hasn’t been a total saint around you, but he never thought he left the impression that he wanted you dead.

He reached out his hand, disregarding how you flinched at his touch and began caressing your cheek.

“Why would I kuh-kill you? I want you (Y/N). I wuh-want everything from you. For you to stay here with muh-me. For us to be together. You won’t have to worry about anything anymore. I’ll muh-make sure of it.” His heart started to beat faster, excited to express the thoughts he’s been having for months. “I juh-just know once you come around, you’ll see that we wuh-were made for each other.”

You looked at him in utter disbelief. “How could you possibly think that? We literally just met.”

Toby scoffed. “I’ve buh-been keeping tabs on you for a while. I thought you figured thuh-that out. Seeing how you huh-haven’t left your house in weeks.” He continued after you only stared back at him in horror. “I knuh-know you don’t know me very well. But I know you. And after we spend more time together, you’ll understand wuh-what I’m saying. I know you will. You’re smart.”

He sighed, smiling longingly.

That wonderful feeling, the intense rush he always had in your presence, washing over him.

Now he could finally say what he wanted to all along.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

#creepypasta #ticci toby #ticci toby x reader #Toby Rogers #ticci toby creepypasta #toby rogers x reader #yandere ticci toby #x reader #yandere #yandere creepypasta #yandere creepypasta x reader #fanfiction #My writing #horror #obsessive behavior #yandere ticci toby x reader

254 notes · View notes

becca-e-barnes · 3 years ago

Text

Take Care of Everything

This is my first ever fic for a writing challenge omg I’m so excited! Huge congratulations to @balenciagabucky for hitting 3K followers!! That’s such a huge milestone and thank you for organising such a fun challenge! So excited to read the rest of the submissions 💗 @dulceslibrary

Pairing: Personal Assistant! Bucky Barnes x Lawyer! Reader

Word Count: 3.5k maybe?

Summary: There’s only one thing in your life that your PA doesn’t take care of

Warnings: Smut, praise kink, pet names, protected sex (go me for writing something safe sex for a change), court mention, lil fluff, mile high club

Minors, do not interact.

“Un-fucking-believable.” You couldn’t stop the roaring boil of the blood in your veins, storming out of the court room with your long black gown billowing behind you. Being one of the top barristers in the country brought it’s fair share of high profile cases but this one had got on every last nerve in your body and you were out of patience.

The case itself wasn’t the problem. The issues were straightforward enough and applying law to fact, at the most basic level, your client had done nothing wrong. It should have been essentially cut and dry. The problem was the opposing council and the lack of intervention from the judge.

The prosecution had torn your witness to shreds. You had tried to warn the poor woman beforehand, as you did with every client, but on the stand, she had just crumbled under such an intense and downright ignorant line of questioning.

It shouldn’t have even been allowed in the first place. The judge should have stepped in and clipped the opposing council’s wings but the damage was already done and now you would have to pick the pieces up when court resumed on Monday.

“How did it go?” Your personal assistant must have been leaning outside the courtroom door for who knows how long, his suit somehow as neat and pristine as always, despite the fact it was the end of the day.

“Fucking dreadful, Terry was an asshole to Andrea and she lost it. Should’ve known he’d pull shit like that, he’s always a cunt on Friday evenings.” You practically spat the words out, heels clicking on the floor as you made your way down the marble hall to collect your things and begin to put an end to this miserable week.

Part of you almost wanted to laugh at how Bucky had developed the skill of being able to keep up with your pace without even having to look up from his blackberry. That only came from years of practice.

“Terry loves playing with fire. Fuck him. If anyone can put him in his place on Monday, it’s you.” Bucky still hadn’t taken a second to pull his nose up from his phone, his steps landing in perfect time with yours until you reached the chamber at the end of the hall, throwing the heavy wooden door open in front of you. Bucky filtered in behind you of course, closing the door behind him before slipping his phone neatly into his pocket.

“Thought your doctor warned you about your blood pressure? You gotta calm down.” Bucky’s face showed he was genuinely concerned, his eyebrows knitted together in disdain but there was nothing new there. He had worked for you for years now and truth be told, he was damn good at his job, not to mention the fact he was the closest thing to a friend your busy schedule allowed you to have.

“I’ll calm down when I’m dead. We need to get to the airport if we’re going to make that flight for the convention.” You pulled your wig off, setting it neatly into the little wooden closet before removing your gown, hanging it up alongside the other worn ones from earlier in the week so they could all be dry cleaned and back in the closet for Monday.

“It’s a private jet honey, it can’t leave without you.” Bucky laughed softly, knowing you were worked up and hoping a little joke would ease the tension.

You had to admit, you were so thankful for Bucky. He was devoting the prime of his life to making sure you had everything you needed, your life only felt so seamless because Bucky made it that way. He didn’t just manage your calendar and fetch you coffee like any other PA, he lived and breathed you. He went everywhere with you, crashing in your spare room at least three nights a week because you had both worked yourselves to exhaustion. He never missed anything. He had a solution for every problem, nothing was too big for him to tackle and given the chance, you two could absolutely take over the world one day. You confided in him, and he in you, getting to know every tiny detail of his life in the past few years, right down to that fact that neither of you had seen your family or been on a date in months. Hell, he’d went as far as buying you a packet of batteries one Monday after a particularly long and stressful court hearing.

“Here, got you these.” He had smiled mischievously as he handed them over to you, chuckling a little at your confused expression. “For your vibrator. Looks like it’s gonna be a long week.” You took them gratefully, joking with him that you really would need them, tucking them into your handbag and damn were they appreciated. The following morning he had asked how you had got on and you could only laugh. You didn’t tell him how thoughts of him had come into your head right as you had gotten close. Similarly, you didn’t tell him how painfully intense your orgasm had been when you imagined him on the bed with you, watching you come apart against the plastic toy. You could just picture his hungry gaze, watching how your body gushed as you released, nipples pebbled from arousal and your lips parted, a single whimper of his name escaping you as you rode out your high.

No, that was a little secret you would keep to yourself. He didn’t need to know your dirtiest fantasies. He was an employee. An employee that often arrived at your bedroom door shirtless and smirking, holding a stack of freshly made pancakes on the mornings he stayed over at yours but an employee nonetheless.

—————————

The cab ride to the airport would have been silent if it hadn’t been for the gentle tapping of your thumbs and Bucky’s racing over your respective phone screens. You had at least two dozen emails left to reply to and your eyelids were beginning to get heavy, the body heat radiating from Bucky in the cab’s back seat making you drowsy. You took a second, squeezing your eyes shut to force away the tiredness before going back to typing relentlessly.

The trip to the airport was short, Bucky had competed the preflight checkin so you essentially stepped straight onto the plane, taking a seat by the window, with Bucky taking the one opposite you. Takeoff was smooth as always, your phones picked back up as soon as it was safe to do so. But with the glowing screen came a fresh wave of drowsiness, your eyelids threatening to close of their own accord.

“Shit, Buck did you pack my -“

“Glasses? Left side of your bag, under the tissues.” Bucky finished your sentence for you, not looking up from his phone.

“And my -“

“Eye drops? In your makeup bag.” There it was again. What surprised you most was that Bucky didn’t even need to see you to work out exactly what was wrong.

“Do you really just take care of everything?” You huffed out a little laugh, digging through your bag, finding both your glasses and eye drops exactly where he told you they would be.

“Everything but you.” He chuckled, finally setting his phone down.

“What do you mean ‘everything but me’? All you ever do is take care of me. You organise my shopping and dry cleaning for god’s sake.” The whole notion of Bucky doing anything but taking care of you was just insane because you sure as hell didn’t have time to do any of those things for yourself. That’s what you hired him for after all.

“I didn’t mean like that. I meant like really take care of you. You’re so damn up tight.” You knew by the little chuckle that accompanied his words that he meant it affectionately but it still made you slightly defensive.

“I’m not up tight.” You protested. Normally you would’ve let harmless comments like that slide but the combination of your shitty day and the fact you were so sleepy made it impossible to not seek out conflict. This was the life you were used to after all. A life of treating almost everyone you came across adversarially. It was second nature to you at this point, inside and outside the courtroom.

“Come on, you seem to forget I am your calendar. You think I don’t know you haven’t gotten any in months? You should get laid, that’s all I’m sayin’. Wouldn’t kill you to have an orgasm every once in a while.” The words roll off his tongue like it’s nothing and truth be told, if you were in better form, this would have been a perfectly normal conversation between the two of you. Neither of you were particularly shy when it came to talking about your hookups.

You hated how right he was. You hated that you hadn’t been touched in months and Bucky knew that. You hated that most days, you were too exhausted to bother tending to your own needs. And you hated the warmth spreading through your body at the thought of Bucky finally taking care of you.

“Don’t know Buck, an orgasm might actually kill me with my high blood pressure.” You needed this conversation to turn more light hearted and you needed it fast, before your head became so clouded with need that Bucky picked up on it.

“I mean, I handle everything else for you. Wouldn’t even mind if that became part of my remit.” You almost couldn’t believe how carefree and nonchalant this whole conversation seemed, Bucky hoping you missed how he cock twitched in his trousers. Of course you didn’t. You missed nothing.

“If what became part of your remit?” You quizzed firmly, trying not to give anything away but knowing your eyes had gone big and doe-like, entirely of their own accord. This was a dream come true.

“You. Actually taking care of you. However you need.” His stare was intense, watching you keenly to determine whether he had horrendously overstepped and was about to get fired.

“Why would you even want to?” Your voice carried every single ounce of confusion you were feeling, staring Bucky down with an intensity that mirrored his own in that moment.

“You’re far too smart to act dumb.” He replied softly, knowing it was all or nothing now. If he was getting fired, he might as well be honest. His head tilted downwards, drawing your attention to the bulge growing in his suit trousers. Years worth of need and longing bubbling over all at once.

“If you want this, tell me. If not, that’s fine. But it doesn’t need to be anything romantic. Can be just sex. Whatever you want.” He was doing his very best to stay calm, his brain finally catching up with his mouth and considering that he was now in way too deep to just apologise and about to get his ass handed to him at thousands of feet in the air by one of the best legal minds in the world.

You’d never wanted anything more in your life. It was almost like Bucky was dangling himself in front of you. A piece of meat before a lion that could be snatched away at any second. You weren’t going to give him the chance, professionalism be damned. You were out of your seat and onto his lap in a flash, your pencil skirt hiked up to allow you to bracket his legs in your own.

“Are you sure about this?” Your quizzed softly, giving him one last chance to back out before you lost all self control.

“Do I feel like I’m not sure?” His voice was almost a choked whisper, his hands landing on your hips to press you down against his stiff cock.

You’d never seen him like this before. Horny and needy and losing himself in the feeling of you on top of him after years of fantasies. He had tried to curb the fantasies but his body didn’t allow him to. You were all he could think of on those lonely nights, a hand wrapped around his cock, groans and whimpers escaping until he came over his hand, a cry of your name pulled from his lips. He thought you would never know. And now here he was, the woman of his dreams perched in his lap, asking to be taken care of. Even the filthiest parts of his brain couldn’t have come up with this.

He could never have dreamt how you moved forward so tentatively, your lips hardly even touching his. He was used to seeing you confident, in control, the calmest person under pressure and yet here you were, unsure of yourself for the first time, he imagined, in your life. You both kept your eyes open for a little while, your lips sliding together gently, getting a feel for one another, up until your teeth sank into the plush skin of his bottom lip and an actual groan left him, his eyelids fluttering shut. The sound could’ve made you quiver with need. It was so alarmingly sexy, knowing your huge, sexy PA could be taken apart with the smallest touches. Suddenly, this seemed to be as much, if not more, for Bucky’s benefit than your own.

“Thought this was for me, hm?” Somehow your condescending court voice was pushing him over the edge. You felt one of his hands come up, tangling in your hair while the other wrapped around your waist, pulling your core flush with his clothed cock. He kissed you with a burning intensity that made your head swim and your pussy throb, loving how he was taking control but still hurtling further into a breathless, needy state.

“You’ve no idea how long I’ve thought about this. Didn’t think we’d be joining the mile high club.” He huffed out a little light laugh, using his grip on your waist to help you roll your hips over his growing erection.

“Couldn’t have been thinking about this for as long as I have.” You smiled softly, letting out a little gasp as his cock nudged you just right through your panties that you were sure had been soaked through already. His eyes went wide at your admission, his dick twitching deliciously underneath you.

“Fuck, that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.” He whispered, making you laugh at how eager he was.

“I won’t be able to wait until we’re off this plane Bucky. You gonna fuck me right here?” You teased him softly, your faces so close, your tiny hands running down his pristine shirt, toying with the buttons. When you began to graze his chest gently with your nails, it was like a switch flipped inside Bucky. He thrust up against you with a growl loving the yelp you let out, one hand now squeezing your ass, the other massaging your breasts through your blouse.

“Gonna fuck all the stress out of you. Gonna have you leavin’ this plane leakin’ and cockdrunk.” Somehow you didn’t even doubt his words and you had to admit, it did sound quite appealing to give up the control for a while, just letting Bucky take over.

“Gimme all you’ve got Barnes. Gotta make it worth my while or this is gonna be the last time you get the chance.” You couldn’t help but tease him before instantly realising that might have been a mistake, his lips burning hot as they worked against your own, needy, insistent and as always, eager to please.

His mouth was relentless to the point that you found yourself practically dry humping his cock, your hands laced in his hair while his untucked your blouse from your skirt, greedily holding onto any skin he could reach. He tasted of peppermint and coffee, smelt like the expensive aftershave you were so fond of and felt like a man who’s only purpose in life was to make you cum until it hurt.

“Need you. ‘Nside me. Now.” You managed somehow to pant the words out between the fervent slide of his lips over yours, his tongue dipping in to taste you, never wanting this to end.

The feeling of your much smaller hands landing on his belt buckle made him look down but he could’ve cum then and there at the sight that met him. The front of his suit pants were slick with your mess, proof that he wasn’t just dreaming and you really were needing this just as badly as he was.

“You’re so fuckin’ ready for it aren’t you? Look at the mess you’ve made. Why didn’t we do this years ago?” He was groaning, shifting in his seat to help you get his trousers and boxers down. You couldn’t help how you gasped a little at the sheer size of him, his cock thick and long, the head slick with precum, proud veins running up his shaft. He looked Godly. Two firm pumps was all it took to have his head thrown back against the plush leather seat, cursing and bucking against your hand, aching for more.

“I’m sorry Buck, I can’t wait any longer.” You panted, his lips attached to your neck now, kissing, licking and sucking all his frustration into your skin. If there was a time for foreplay, that wasn’t it. Neither of you had the patience right now.

“Thank God, needa feel this pretty pussy.” He all but whispered as you lined him up at your soaking entrance.

“Shit Bucky, you got a condom?” You asked anxiously, stilling yourself at the last second.

“My bag, zip compartment at the front.” He replied quietly and sure enough, that’s exactly where you found a packet. Tearing the wrapper off, you slid it down his length earning another groan from the huge man who was practically shaking beneath you.

“You think of everything.” You giggled, finally beginning to slowly sink yourself down onto him. Your laugh quickly turned into a breathy moan, your breath mingling with Bucky’s and you noticed how he made a very similar noise. You pressed yourself down slowly, your body having to adjust to the stretch.

“So tight, fuck. Shit, never felt a tighter pussy in my life.” He whispered when you were finally seated on top of him. He pulled your skirt out of the way to appreciate just how connected your bodies were in that moment. His cock just seemed to fit perfectly, so snug you could’ve cried as you began to slowly work your hips against his.

“Oh my god Bucky you’re huge.” You should’ve been embarrassed by how high and needy your whine came out but right then and there, you didn’t care.

“It’s all yours sweetheart. Gonna fuck you so good you never need another cock again. Gonna ruin anyone else for you - fuck.” Under normal circumstances you would’ve chastised him for being so overconfident but feeling how his cock nudged your sweet spot perfectly, you thought he might actually be right.

“Gotta fuck you angel, can’t just sit here anymore, ‘s driving me crazy.” He just couldn’t keep himself still any longer, lust burning behind his eyes in a way you had never seen in him before. You lifted yourself up slowly, feeling his length slipping from you, your walls fighting to pull him deeper until you sank back down, taking the whole length at once. The strangled cry that left Bucky was incredible. You repeated your gentle rise and fall, setting a decent pace. Every sharp fall of your hips tore a needy gasp from both of you, the sweetest spot inside you throbbing from the almost constant onslaught. It was everything you craved. Bucky was grasping at every curve of your body, lost in the feeling of your soft skin and the grip of your silky walls and the smell of your shampoo as you rode him, building speed as your pleasure built in your lower belly. The wet sounds escaping where your bodies were joined was nothing short of obscene, only fuelling Bucky to meet each of your thrusts with his own.

“Oh my god, I -oh oh- I can’t, can’t take it Bucky please.” You groaned, manicured fingernails digging into his chest.

“I got you honey. ‘s okay. Gonna take such good care of you when we get to the hotel. Just want you to cum once for me now, okay? Take the edge off. You feel so good wrapped round me. You know what else I can feel? Your pretty pussy is leakin’. Feel you drippin’ down over my balls. Never felt anything so hot in my ‘ntire life.” His fingers fell to your clit, rubbing neatly as if he had been trained to do nothing else. You were on cloud nine, your high so close but not quite there yet.

“Bucky, gonna cum. Oh fuck!” You whined, your orgasm hitting you like a train. You came with a loud cry, eyes squeezed shut, rocking against him more than fucking so his cock stayed buried inside you.

“Shit, how did you get even fuckin’ tighter. ‘M so close.” He whispered against your neck, broken and needy. Your high had all but subsided, aftershocks still pleasantly coursing through you as you went back to letting your hips rise and fall so Bucky could finish. It only took four more well timed thrusts before he was cumming with a shout, pulling you flush against him as his balls emptied into the condom.

You were both spent and sweaty but more satisfied than you could remember being in months, your chest pressed to his as you both came down, craving a little extra affection. Bucky held you for a good few minutes until you felt his cock softening, knowing he really should get cleaned up. You let him slip from you, pulling your skirt down to take your original seat across from him again.

“Gimme a second.” He whispered, kissing your forehead before making his way to the little bathroom, returning a few minutes later looking just as put together as ever, apart from his telltale grin.

“Jesus, we should do that more often.” You smiled quietly when he returned, letting him settle in the chair beside you this time, the dividing arm rest pushed out of the way so you could cuddle as much as possible given the limited space.

“I can’t stop now honey. That pussy is addictive.” He smiled, happy to see you leaning so comfortably up against him but even happier when he heard your soft little snores.

Taglist:

@harrysthiccthighss @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @justatirednightowl @littlecanadianlani @babebr @sebsbrokentoe @badgirlwolfy

1K notes · View notes

honeyabyss · 3 years ago

Text

Phone calls after Mc returned to the human realm

Lucifer:

this man is stubborn, calling you would be like admitting he's gone soft and his pride does not allow that!

so he refuses to call for the first few weeks, keeping himself busy with work of which he has enough anyway

due to all his student council work, a few other tasks of Diavolo and on top of that the usual shenanigans of his brothers, he quickly becomes very stressed

he's at his breaking point and needs someone to talk to so he can release some of his stress before he takes it out on someone else

so he goes to your old room and starts talking as soon as he enters it, only to stop confused when he doesn't see you in the room, remembering only now you left for the human realm

disappointed he sits down onto the bed and curls the blanket around himself

"Their scent is almost gone...Soon it'll be as if they were never here"

he closes his eyes, sighs softly and makes his decision

"Mc? I hope I didn't wake you. I simply thought a conversation would be nice, it's been a while..."

Lucifer's call is pretty casual, he talks about his day, work and his troublemaker brothers, it almost feels like any other day before just this time it is over phone

he does not want to admit he misses you, a) because he'd seem weak and b) he fears what admitting it will do to him, he might just miss you even more

BUT while saying goodbye he accidentally lets a "I miss you" slip, his breathing stops shortly realizing his mistake, he is about to apologize when you say it back

he smiles softly, genuinely relieved about your shared sentiment and whispers "I'll call you again soon then" before hanging up

from then on he calls you every evening and you better jump right away and pick up at the first ringing, because this man is lonely without you

Mammon:

"Congratulations! You're one of our lucky winners of our monthly Devil-Lottery. We'll have to confirm your bank account number with the one given to us when you agreed to participating in the lottery. Would you be so kind to slowly repeat the number-"

this greedy demon will quite literally try to scam you, only to absolutely panic when you hang up on him

he will instantly call you back, constantly adjusting his glasses, a nervous habit he acquired over the years

"H-hey...Mc...uhm, it's me your favourite demon!"

he is relieved you picked up, as it means you didn't block him right away, he stumbles over his words trying to find an excuse why he just tried to scam you

"Ah you know I only did that to test you, you've passed nobody scams my human! You're my amazing human after all! That's why I love you...u-uh I-i mean...nothing...that was a static you must have misheard..."

when you tell him you knew it was him as you recognized his voice, he'll be outraged, screaming into his D.D.D (and probably later getting punched by Lucifer for being so loud)

"What do you mean you already knew?! You dared to hang up on The Great Mammon?

He gets a bit sulky by your reaction, so how about playing into his obvious lie of testing you to make him feel better again

besides trying to scam you Mammon also called to (not so sneakily) check on your wellbeing

now that you're gone he constantly worries about you and he can't do much to help, but if you were actually in need of help due to whatever, trust me he'd fight Lucifer himself for permission to go to you

he'll call you as often as he can, sometimes with a few days of a break in between, asking you about your life and also letting you in on his upcoming money making schemes...please don't tell Lucifer about them

Mammon has learned his lesson though, he'll never try to scam you again, he couldn't bare it if you were to block or ignore his calls

Leviathan:

phone calls? Why? You two can just talk about the in-game talk function of this new online game you play, but no real world talk while playing that ruins the immersion!

Levi will rarely call you as he just doesn't feel comfortable enough to talk with you about normie stuff for too long

he normally just spam writes you, ding, ding, ding, one message after another coming in without you being able to respond quick enough

so if gets too much and you decide to just call him so you can have an actual chance of responding, Levi just panics and almost drops his D.D.D

"Mc? D-did you accidentally hit the c-call button? N-no? I-i see no I love you too!!....AAAAAAAh I-i meant I l-l-love t-talking to you too...hehehe w-why would a yucky o-otaku like me say something like that"

poor boy is so nervous he'll say something stupid and will stutter a lot the first few times you call him, he is just not used to talking on the phone

he will laugh nervously over everything and sometimes there'll be a phase of awkward silence, but please don't point it out, Levi is already stressed enough as it is

once he gets used to calls, he'll surprisingly suggests to have a phone call while both of you are watching the new episode of an anime, so he'll be able to talk to you as if you're right next to him, which works out mediocre at first, you have to tell him to be a bit quieter a few times but besides that it's quiet nice

"Ooooooowhooooooah!!! Did you see that? That was amazing, I wish I had these superpowers, I'd save you of every danger like a real hero! W-what do you mean I'm already your hero?"

Yes, you saw and heard it, and your neighbours probably heard Levi...

on the rare occasions Levi calls you he'll often asks you for favours like to buy him this exclusively in the human realm sold limited edition game, of course he isn't like his scummy brother Mammon who'll constantly asks for things and he'll also make it up by sending you stuff you can only get on Akuzon

so calls don't happen very often, but neither if you really mind, you'll still be in contact through messages and games

Satan:

Satan will be very proper about calling you, he'll check through messages if you're fine with him calling you, so he can be sure you have time and he doesn't bother you

Satan never jumps into a conversation right away (unless he is angry), he makes sure to show interest in you and hold a bit small talk, asking about your day, how you're doing and so on

you talk about many different things with him mostly about your shared interests, but Satan is willing to listen to you ramble about hobbies he doesn't have as well

one thing you two quickly come to do was have book club sessions over phone

"I wish you were still here Mc. I miss my book discussion partner, nobody here has as interesting opinions and views as you..."

back in Devildom you two would both read a book and afterwards discuss your thoughts, and you found a way too keep doing just that

you both write about books, decide on one to read for the week and would than have a phone call where you just talk for hours about the piece of literature you've read

now that you're back in the human realm, the book choices are even bigger as you can read human books as well, you just have to send a copy to Satan, sometimes Barbatos will be nice and pick a book up and deliver it to Satan, or to you if it's the other way around with a demon book

"Oh? No, you're right. I haven't thought about it like that yet...your thoughts are so fascinating!"

Satan will shower you in praise for every little detail that you noticed yet he missed. he genuinely enjoys your phone calls, and though he wouldn't admit it, sometimes he anticipates your call more than the actual book

even though there now is a bigger distance between you two he still feels as close to you as before, not much has changed for him and he knows he'll be able to see you again soon, he'll just have to be patient

"Next week, same time? I'm looking forward to talking to you again. Take care until then!"

Asmodeus:

"Oh my Lord! You won't believe what just happened!!!"

no greeting or alike, just straight into the discussion

whenever something gossip worthy happens, Asmo is already dialling your number to spill the tea and keep you updated on any Devildom related gossip, even if it won't help you much, it's a nice thought of him keep you in the loop

those are only the spontaneous call though, obviously you can't take these all the time...you still have a life of your own...

you two actually call each other every day at the same time, plus/minus a couple minutes, the water in the tub has to be filled first...yeah Asmo likes to talk you while he is taking his afternoon bath

"Hahh it's so relaxing, warm water caressing my beautiful skin, and the bath bomb today smells so good! I wish you could smell it, or even better I wish we could bathe together!"

*water sloshing noises intensified*

Asmo...no....yes...maybe...just stop, you'll fluster Mc!

"No really! I miss having you here, I'll pamper you all day the next time I'll get to see you. You must already be starved of my beauty, but don't worry my dear, I'm just as starved of seeing your lovely face!"

what to talk about while he is bathing? Anything really if it's about your day, any complains or whatever, just expect a few innuendos of him...that's nothing new though

seriously though Asmo is the guy to talk to about any of your problems, he will listen and try to come up with a solution for you, even if he seems a bit narcissistic sometimes he really cares about you, so use your phone calls as therapy from time to time

"Oh darling, don't worry it'll be okay! I'm here to help...now tell me every detail so I can come up with a plan! I'll always be there for you, no matter what!"

Beelzebub:

"*munch munch* This one is really good! Mc you should try some...oh"

now that you're back in the human realm, Beels snack times are very lonely, he has just gotten so used to your presence, even sharing his food is normal by now

and let's be honest Beels snack time is 24/7 so he misses you a lot

he feels the urge to call you every five minutes and sometimes even forgets to eat while phone is ringing and he is waiting for you to pick up

but you can't constantly talk with him over phone so the calls often end up on your voicemail where Beel tells you about all the different kind of foods he ate that day

when Belphie catches wind of his twin constantly pestering you, he hides Beels D.D.D so he can't call you all the time

when you're actually able to pick up on his call, Beel will be so happy you can quite literally hear his huge grin while he's excitedly talking about his current snack

"Have you ever tried spicy bat-wings? There opened a new restaurant in town and it's really good!! Next time you're here I'll invite you there. Oh but what if it closes before you're back...ah you'll just have to visit soon!"

though Beel is often disappointed when you don't pick up, he would never hold it against you, he knows he calls quite a lot, but he just misses you and tipping a message while he eats is harder than putting his D.D.D on speaker and talking to you

of course he doesn't only talk about food, he also tells you about how his brothers are doing and how his workout was, or what things he has planned to do at the weekend, all in all Beel is just super happy to share everything of his life with you

on rare occasions he'll call you and be untypically quiet, that happens when he had a fight with his twin, it's not often but sometimes it happens and his first instinct is to call you, because he feels like he can tell you everything so he is very comfortable and trusting with you

"I miss you a lot, you know...but I also know that you think about me daily, every time your stomach rumbles you'll be reminded of me and that makes me happy, I also think about you every time I'm hungry! Hm? But I'm always hungry? That's right! You're always on my mind!"

Belphegor:

Listen, his sleeping schedule is very tight, you can't just expect him to call you!

he will call you so rarely and if you call him it might just happen that he is sleeping and has phone on silent...or he's just to lazy to walk to his phone, or he is just not in the mood to talk... he takes any excuse to not be on the phone

Belphie does like talking to you, but he is not the greatest at long conversations so he like messages more

sometimes when he can't seem to fall asleep, he will be the one to call you...in the middle of the night...and you better pick up or he gets annoyed

"What took you so long? I thought you wanted to talk more often and then you leave me hanging for a whole minute? Doesn't matter I would have waited longer with you...."

he is mostly silent through a phone call, his main reason to call you is because he like to listen to you talk, it's calming to him and if he calmer then he might be able to fall asleep again

so don't expect an amazingly deep conversation...

"Mhmmm...hm? Yeah I'm still there. I'm listening keep talking, I love your voice..."

he'll bring up a topic from time to time so you have an inspiration about what to talk about, but most of the times he just lazily hum or making acknowledging noises so you know he is still listening

"Zzz..."

he will to 100% fall asleep while being on the phone with you, that doesn't mean you're boring, but that he trusts you so much that he is comfortable enough to let his guard down

Diavolo:

"Good afternoon! How was the week of my favourite human?...ah don't tell Solomon I said that hahaha"

as the future king of hell, he is a busy man, but he still manages to give you a call once a week, to the same time you two would have normally had your weekly afternoon tea meeting in the castle

with the exchange year over there is not much about your classes to talk about left, but Dia is just as excited about any other topic you decide to talk about, be it the most mundane thing he loves it!

"Oh so you went grocery shopping? That must be fun! Barbatos does it all the time, though I suppose you buy less things...I'd like to see a human market at some point, I wonder if they're very different from ours...oh but I wouldn't really able to tell I suppose, Barbatos and you would need to point out the differences!"

this man can talk without taking a break for hours...you think Asmo is bad? Prepare for Diavolo...

but seriously it never gets boring with him, because he somehow finds good and fun stuff in every activity, I swear give him a vacuum and watch him clean you're whole flat with the enthusiasm of a child getting presents on Christmas

the work of a future king consists of so much paperwork, Dia will have only few events of his week to tell you about, if there is something to talk about there is a high chance it has to do with the brothers

so he'd much rather just sip his tea and listen to you, he'll ask you loads of questions though about anything he doesn't know

sometimes you two forget the time and Barb sadly has to remind you to come to a stop for now

"Mc? Did I wake you? If so I'm terribly sorry...would you be up to talk for a little bit more? I'm not feeling too tired yet"

surprise night time calls from Dia where you'll have to speak silently or Barbatos might reprimand Diavolo for staying up all night and being tired the next day, Dia doesn't regret it ever though, he likes to talk you a lot!

Barbatos:

Barbatos is always busy and his schedule can often suddenly change with a new whim of his master, so he can't exactly have a scheduled call with you

so you might not get to hear of him very often

BUT he made it a habit to call you when he is on duty to do the dishes, the chore is somewhat boring to him with no one to distract him

so he calls you and if you pick up, he'll put you on speaker and talk to you about whatever comes to mind while his hands wash one after another of the expensive porcelain of the royal household

"I've bought this new tea which is said to be really nice, it can even be enjoyed cold apparently. It seems to have to just the right amount of sweetness to not get bitter when drank cold...you can still add sugar for extra sweetness, though I believe you're already sweet enough as it is"

no matter what you decide to talk about Barbatos always has at least some knowledge about it, so it's beneficial for both of you, he can tell you the things he knows and you tell him your stuff

"I hope I'm not bothering you too much? There is quite a lot to do today... so it might take some more time..."

you will never get to know that Barb has actually already finished the dished a few minutes ago, but just isn't ready to say goodbye yet

the rest of the employees will be able handle the castle for a bit longer without him, meanwhile he can take a well deserved tea break and listen to you

he very much enjoys the fact he found a way to have some time with you while theoretically having to be at work, as long as he is able to finish all the tasks of his daily schedule, he doesn't feel too bad about his not so legal break

"I fear I'll have to get back to work now, but I loved talking to you today! I hope you enjoyed it as well. I'll talk to you again soon!"

Solomon:

Though Solomon returned to the human realm with you, you haven't heard much of him, being a wise old man sorcerer must be very time consuming

so calls of Solomon might be rare but that doesn't mean you don't write messages every now and then, when he calls you though it's always about something interesting or important to share, he talks about those things rather verbally, the best option for him would be in person, but that doesn't always work so a phone call is the second best option

"My lovely apprentice, how is your studying going? I've found the tome we were talking about last time you were interested in...it took some research to find which sorcerer had it but I brought it back for you. How about I'll drop by you next week? I can help you with your studying then, the tome is written in an older version of the language it might be easier if we do it together!"

Solomon can simply not sit still, so while you're on the phone, he is always tinkering at something and the background noises are sometimes quite peculiar...

Was that a pig squeaking? Are you sure you should be brewing a potion while being on the phone? Isn't it distracting?

Oh Lord was that an explosion?!

"Hmm? Oh yeah...I`m cooking dinner right now! It was just a small explosion though, you know the ones that are regularly happen in the kitchen. Why? Was my cute student worried about me?~ heheh alright, alright, I'll stop teasing you...for now!"

no matter how chaotic, teasing or busy Solomon is though, if you call him and are in need of help, he'll drop everything and run to you

he knows how hard it can be when studying magic, not to mention that the studies are difficult, the constant hiding of any magic in front of other humans is also very nerve wrecking, sometimes you feel like giving up and going back to your normal life, back to your non-magical very human friends that are blissfully unaware of everything happening around them, but you know you could never forget and act as if nothing happened, you'd also miss your new not so normal friends, so when times get hard Solomon will rush to you and comfort you in person or at least calm you down on phone until he is able to go to you

if that happens he is more likely to call you every two to three days just to check in on you

"Hey how is my strong and beautiful fellow human doing? Feeling better yet? Need a shoulder to lean on? I'm at your flat in 10 minutes..."

Simeon:

Simeon is a daily caller as well, he's gotten so used to seeing you every day that he feels quite restless if he doesn't get to hear your voice at least once a day

he asked you to recommend at what time he should call, he doesn't want to restrict you in your daily life, so you both came to the conclusion after dinner would be perfect, as both of you are free for the rest of the day then

He will often write a bit on his TSL scripts, just some notes and inspirations he comes up while talking to you

"How was your day my little lamb? You haven't overworked yourself right? Tell me if you ever need help!"

though Simeon would definitely have things to complain about with how Michael is working him to the bone, he'd rather not worry you so instead he tells you about how Luke is doing and evasively answers you questions about himself

"Oh me? Ah yes, I'm doing fine, just doing the usual archangel stuff you know...Ah please do not worry Mc, my dear! Nothing dangerous!"

over the time his TSL notes turn into random scribbles, rhymes and poems and every now and then something that looks suspiciously like your name

Sometimes Luke crashes the call and wants to speak with you as well so Simeon tries to put the phone on speaker only to end up ending the call and Luke getting frustrated with Simeon and doing it himself

then again Simeon also just accidentally hangs up on you mid conversation, because his fingers hit the button without him noticing, he'll get so confused when you cut off in the middle of your sentence and thinks something has happened to you, only to be relieved when you call back a few seconds later

Simeon is very interested in your day and how you doing, asking you many questions and encouraging you to keep talking

"Oh no please keep talking! You're not overwhelming me at all, in fact I like listening to your voice, it puts even the most melodic voice of an angel into the shadows...hahaha did I make you embarrassed? I apologize, I didn't mean to, I was only telling you my honest opinion!"

Simeon is quite the flatterer, but he often does not notice it, he simply tries to be nice, so a call with him leaves you flustered and stuttering ever now and then, but he is just as quick to blush at a honest and heartfelt compliment

Luke:

Luke might be an angel, but he is still low ranking and therefore has less assignments, besides studying to become a great angel and doing some minor tasks for Michael, he is relatively free

he often spends his free time in the kitchen constantly trying to improve his baking, now after the exchange year not only to impress Michael and Simeon but also Barbatos, maybe a bit Beel and definitely you!

but as Simeon is still working at these times, he gets somewhat lonely so he'll try calling you to keep him some company

Luke has this habit of speaking the recipes out loud to remember the steps better and be able to able to make them from memory, he got that tip from Barbatos, but he still has his moments where he gets stuck and forgets what to do next, you can notice that when he gets silent and concentrates on trying to remember

"Ah right that was it! I almost forgot about the eggs! Good thing you were here...or well on the phone hehe! You always remember this stuff, you're so amazing!"

when you tell him you simply looked it up in the internet for him, he'll get a bit sulky that he now basically cheated, but with your reassurance that he is already great and can remember so many other steps, he is quickly back to his happy little angel self

"Michael let me help with his conference today I was assistant record keeper today, one day I'll be able to do it alone, bit they're talking so much and so fast...I think I still need a couple centuries until I'm fully ready, but I'm working on improving! You should also try to improve your skills daily! Even a small bit of practice is good! Though I think you're perfect already!"

Luke most definitely learned his flattering from Simeon... he talks about many different things on the phone but repeating topic is Michael...just talking to you makes his day and later he'll tell everything Simeon and he smiles so brightly while he reports to him, please keep talking to him a lot!

#obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me swd #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #obey me luke

937 notes · View notes

watchmegetobsessed · 4 years ago

Text

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.

youtube

“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!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fiction #harry styles au #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles x you #harry styles x reading #harry styles x y/n

1K notes · View notes

cinnamonest · 3 years ago

Text

//some horrendous gaslighting

I love my stranger-to-noncon very much but I don't give enough attention to consensual relationships taking a turn for the worse, or utterly toxic and abusive boyfriends and Kaeya is the perfect candidate for that so here we go.

-----

I've mentioned before the Kaeya would be exceptionally violent in comparison to other yanderes, but it's important to note that he's also among the most emotionally sensitive, and those two things do not go together well.

Not sensitive outwardly, of course, he's spent years developing that personality of his as a defense mechanism, can easily pretend he doesn't care about anything, but deep down that abandonment complex and those insecurities are strong and easily triggered. Some of the ways it manifests are mild, like how he gets overly attached to you within a week of knowing you, commits and tries to move way too fast even in completely mutual and consensual relationships. The kind of guy that suggests moving in together a week into the relationship, and dropping I love you so early on that you're left to merely blink in surprise because you barely know each other, but under the pressure and awkwardness you find yourself stuttering out a reciprocation, even though it's quite untrue. Guilt-trips and pressures his way into fucking you within a couple of days.

He's a very different person behind closed doors, it comes out maybe a month in when he lets the walls drop and lets himself trust you. He's more vulnerable, sweeter. Oddly... Eager to trust. It's like he desperately wants someone he can latch onto and show some vulnerability around and chose you to be that someone.

But also different in other ways. More... Bitter. More grumpy. More immature.

He's not sensitive in general, he doesn't really care about what most people say or do, but that sensitivity comes out once he's attached to a person, which happens rather quickly. You start noticing it rather quickly in a mutual relationship, and it likely shocks you honestly that he's so... immature. You spend the day with one of your friends -- just one, catch up with them, haven't seen them in a while... and when you get home things are rather quiet. He's usually a very talkative person, so you can't figure out what's wrong. Maybe something bad happened, but he insists no, it's fine. There's nothing wrong. And then you catch the last part, much quieter, spoken under his breath in that lighthearted tone he speaks in, yet with a bitterness to it.

You wouldn't care anyway, you're too busy with your friends.

It takes you by surprise at first because holy shit, really? It seems so petulant that it can't possibly be real, but... Maybe he really did have a bad day and is just getting his anger out by directing it at the first thing he can. That's not right, but hey, everyone has weak moments where they do some bad things. Besides, you weren't there for him, so he feels worse right? Still, you spent every day the past month except this one day with him... No, it's just poor timing, that's all.

Until it happens again. And again. And he swears he likes your friends, smiles at them, but it... Looks forced. Always complaining that you spend so much time with them and completely ignore him. Do you even care? Do you value the relationship at all? You try to not get angry and be rational, but still defend yourself because you spend almost all of your time with him don't you? You can't get much out before he just huffs and stomps away, rolls his eyes (well, you assume he rolls both of them, you can't tell but-- nevermind, not the point) and gives you a cold shoulder. Until you apologize, then it's like the switch has flipped back on, there's love and smiles and warmth and hugs again.

It starts to get on your nerves. You start to wonder if maybe this isn't healthy for you, if maybe you should end things, but you decide to give him another chance, right? We all make mistakes. He's under a lot of stress. Just... It'll be fine.

And the first time it gets physical he swears it's an accident. It leaves an ugly scar. You're going out because come on, it's my family, I haven't seen them in forever.

It just happens, he explains, it's unintentional, emotions get channeled through the vision like that. Comforts you as you sit on the ground crying and clutching your arm that he grabbed as you walked out the door, skin darkened and purplish from the freeze that's seared through a layer of your skin. He sighs and says he's sorry, really, he feels horrible already, so don't get mad, ok? He already feels terrible enough... Don't be mean. He didn't mean it. Don't be mean. Don't be fucking mean about it, stop fucking crying. You're making him feel worse.

He seems genuinely sorry, you tell yourself. It's not his fault. You can't blame him. It's ok.

It's harder to excuse the next time it gets physical. Maybe freezing last time was unintentional, and maybe it hurt, but you weren't terrified like this. A hand around your throat is different.

But can you blame him? You were threatening to leave. Honestly, you weren't approaching it healthily, you weren't trying to actually have a serious talk, you were trying to guilt him and gaslight him and it's honestly emotionally abusive, you know? You're the one in the wrong here. How selfish and cruel. How can you do that and not even feel guilty?

It makes you rethink. It makes you question your own sanity. And it makes you apologize. Makes you say you didn't mean it. You find yourself feeling dizzy, disoriented, like everything isn't real and everything is too much. You try to sleep it off.

And he doesn't like delving into the past. He tries to avoid it. Tries to not think about it. Doesn't even really tell you anything until nearly a year in, a drunken confession of sadness and misery. It makes you feel guilty somehow. Poor thing. He's been through a lot, you tell yourself. Maybe you should be more patient and understanding, help him work through it. You can fix him, per se, can't you? Sure, people say that never works, but... He just needs love, really, it's not like he's that bad.

He hates bringing it up like this even more. It just feels weak and vulnerable but it comes out anyway. You're threatening him again, and honestly, that's a sickening thing to do considering what you know, how can you be so vicious?

You're just like everyone else, aren't you?

You're just going to abandon him like this was nothing. You don't care at all. You're heartless. Ungrateful. He's done so much for you. And this is how you repay him, huh? Disappointing, honestly. He thought you were special. Kind. Understanding. Didn't realize you were just as cruel as everyone else in his life, aren't you?

He just has this way of making you doubt yourself. You pull at your hair and cry. I'm going insane. You keep the thought to yourself, but you fall to your knees and promise you're really sorry this time. He sighs. Fine, he'll give you another chance. He's a patient man. You just need to work on yourself, become a less toxic person.

But apparently that's not enough, and eventually you get dumped.

It comes as a surprise. But he says he's had enough of you being so emotionally manipulative and neglectful. You hardly ever spend time with him (like, only 29 days a month? Unbelievable!). You cry and try to make him feel bad, when the things he does aren't that bad. You always claim to be too tired to fuck. You try to gaslight him into thinking all that's acceptable. It's toxic and abusive, so, he's done.

You find yourself in shock. Confusion. It feels unreal. The first thing you worry about is if you can even find a new boyfriend... Your body is completely littered in freeze-burn scars by now, after all.

Were you really in the wrong? You're not too experienced in relationships, maybe he's right about everything he said... Maybe you really did him wrong...

Which is why you come crawling back. Crying. Apologizing.

Exactly as planned.

So he sighs and agrees. Fine. You can have another chance.

The second time, the third time, he always forgives you and takes you back. Even though you don't deserve it. He just loves you so much, you know? He keeps forgiving you.

Until one day you don't show up.

When you leave that time, you seem almost angry. You don't cry this time. Your hands ball into fists and for once, for the first time, as you storm out, you say--

Fine.

Unusual, but you were always moody like that. Odd choice of words. No matter, it's not like you're actually fine with it, you'll come crawling back any minute now.

It's already been several hours. Why aren't you at his doorstep already? Did he make you feel that bad? Maybe he went too far... You're probably just at home crying or something. You'll come back by tomorrow morning.

You don't.

Ok. Maybe you feel too guilty. Maybe you're reflecting on how awful you've been. That would take some time to get over, since you've done so many bad things. It won't be long before you come back.

A day passes. Two days pass.

What's taking you so long?

He finally swallows his pride. Maybe you're being stubborn. Trying to make him feel bad. Yeah, that's something you'd do. Or maybe you're trying to make him feel all alone, take advantage of the one thing you know bothers him. How mean. But he loves you. You know that. So you'll appreciate it when he checks on you, apologizes for maybe going too far, and he really loves you, he loves you so much, so how about you two just go home and forget this ever happened and have lots and lots of makeup sex and cuddle? And then you can tell him you're sorry and love him too and promise to stay forever? He's already got the speech practiced a few times in his head walking over to your place, the one you haven't really lived in for a while now since he demanded you basically move in with him. All your clothes and stuff are at his place now. You would have taken that with you if you ever actually intended to leave, so clearly this is a ploy to get him to come to you, as if that wasn't already obvious.

Your eyes narrow when you open the door and your face contorts with anger. And you snarl that you've had enough. He wants you gone so much, fine, you're more than happy to oblige, you say. You're done. You don't even need your shit, keep it, you'd rather lose your stuff than set foot in that place again. You finally came to your senses and you're fucking done.

You say nasty things. You say he made your life a living hell and you're happy to be rid of him.

And then you say something worse. Something that sets something deep inside off. Something that feels like a stab to the gut.

You say if you'd known the truth about him you would have kicked him out a long time ago.

Maybe it's not about the same thing. Not meant the same way. But it feels too familiar nonetheless.

You see him freeze up. He just stands still for a moment. Not saying anything. Face blank and empty. His eye twitches.

You couldn't care less. Besides, you already have a new boyfriend, one that's nice to you, you tell him with a prideful spite in your voice. One that doesn't have fucking issues. You're not a therapist, you say, and you tell him to figure out his problems on his own, and you slam the door in his face.

Or, you try to. He catches the door before it can close with one hand. Grabs your arm with the other.

For once he doesn't say anything, not until you make him. Just grabs you, drags you down the street by your shirt. It nearly chokes you, but you manage to start to scream. He slams your back into the nearest building, grabs your shoulders and says to shut the fuck up or I'll break your fucking arms. You go wide eyed and scared tears run down you're face. You're scaring me, you plead. Let me go.

But he doesn't. You figure maybe you can talk sense into him when you get there. You don't realize how far gone he is, you don't think that this might be the last time you set foot outside, the last time you see the sun not through a window. You don't think any of the things you'll wish you had down the road.

You've had rough sex before. Not quite like this, though. You can't breathe. You kick and wheeze and cry and claw at the hand around your throat and desperately gasp for what little air you can get in. He only lets go when you black out, lets you take a few breaths, then does it again. You're still so tight. New boyfriend must not have measured up, huh. It's raw and dry and it hurts. You whimper and you cry and you finally apologize like you should have days ago.

And yet, most importantly, you cum. See? You love him. So say it. Say it already. Come on. You do, you stutter, it's quiet and scared, but he smiles nonetheless.

It's ok. He knows you're sorry. He knows you didn't mean those awful things you said. You would never actually abandon him. You're different. Different. Special. Not like everyone else. You won't leave. You won't just leave him somewhere and disappear, you won't die out of nowhere, you won't kick him aside and leave him alone, you're the only person who won't. Different. That's why he loves you so much. You would never do any of that.

You just need help. You're so emotional, you're really not emotionally stable. Controlled by your wildly changing emotions. They make you say things you don't mean. Do things you don't really intend to do. Things you'll just regret if he didn't intervene and help you.

They make you vulnerable to other people. You're so easily controlled. You believe what they want you to believe. And that's dangerous. That could lead you to try to leave again. That's why you have to be helped. Kept away from becoming victim to your own impulses. The only way to do that is keeping you locked away. You'll come to understand with time. Appreciate it. Thank him.

You'll appreciate it because you're different. You'll never leave. You would never leave him even if you had the opportunity.

But maybe it's for the best that you don't have that opportunity to begin with.

#scheduled post #yan.txt #.ky

280 notes · View notes

mrwinterr · 4 years ago

Text

Over & Over

Pairing: Pornstar!Bucky Barnes AU x Pornstar!Female Reader

Summary: You’re an up-and-coming adult film star secretly eager to work with the popular Bucky Barnes, and with just the right connections, your paths cross much sooner than later.

Warnings: Adult themes. Smut 18+ (unprotected sex, vaginal penetration and instructional fingering, oral [male & female receiving], size kink, spit & cum play, a smudge of male dominance), dirty talk and language.

Disclaimer: I don’t know how the porn industry works; this was just written for fun.

Title Inspiration: “Over & Over” by Smallpools

A/N: After doping up on strong painkillers wasn’t enough, I thought releasing endorphins would help ease my headache, so once again watching porn inspired another fic. Idk. I’m a mess. Enjoy!

Slipping on your oversized sunglasses, you walk along the rectangular outline of the hotel’s lavish pool, to one of the vacant lounge chairs next to the redheaded goddess, whose wings you were taken under and could gratefully call a close friend. You hadn’t known a single soul when you packed up and moved west to Los Angeles at 18, but you knew you were destined for more than what your humdrum life back at home could offer.

The porn industry wasn’t your first choice at a career in entertainment, but the starving profession wasn’t paying the bills fast enough. You weren’t going to survive in L.A. another year juggling to pay for tuition and stay enrolled in acting school from the income of working menial jobs and booking small gigs. However, one minor role as an extra in a one-night stand sex scene of a TV show, you catch the eye of the multitalented adult film actress Natasha Romanoff.

It was pure coincidence she was also casted, playing a bigger role, of the same episode, but she saw more in you in your less than 15 seconds of fame than most casting agents did before offering you a chance to shadow her. You knew she looked familiar and you were no stranger to watching porn, but when you’re as down on your luck as you were, you went all in and soon enough countless scenes now under your belt within a year, you’re porn’s best female newcomer.

“There’s this year’s Best New Starlet!” Natasha proclaims loudly for almost everyone around to hear.

Lucky for you, the shades conceal the roll of your eyes at her comment as you kick off your flip-flops and remove the thin cover up to reveal your skimpy bikini. You dare look over at her in time to catch her mocking reaction, jaw dropped from your attitude.

“After all I’ve done for you,” she says, placing a hand to her heart, feigning hurt.

The pair of you laugh at your nonsense and after she helps you with applying the appropriate amount of sun care protection, you recline in your seats and attempt to soak up some sun. It was a much-needed break with the long stressful week of the award show now behind everyone. Your hard work had paid off and after all you did learn from the best.

Your predecessor before you, Natasha was also a former Best New Starlet, and now is a household name in pornography. She didn’t welcome a lot of people into her inner circle, but she had plans to one day direct and knew she had to find the next big thing before anyone else to take her place.

“Hello, ladies,” comes from the voice of this year’s Director of the Year and other close friend Wanda Maximoff.

“Hey Wanda,” you greet her by sitting up to give her a proper hug.

You met her through her twin brother, Pietro, who happened to be your first co-star and was very welcoming and caring to you. The twins took care of you during your first few months starting out. Much like Natasha did for you, you help her administer the same amount of sunscreen on her body.

“Congrats on your achievement,” she says wholeheartedly, looking over her shoulder at you as you finish up on her back, and even under the heat of the sun, she could still see the blush creep up on your face.

“She’s a natural, isn’t she?” Natasha comments casually, to which Wanda nods enthusiastically, only speeding up the process of the rose tints on your cheeks to spread all over your face. They were your biggest fans and supporters; you were so happy you could make them proud.

“I owe it all to the queen herself,” you say, downplaying your achievement and turning the attention to your mentor in Natasha. She scoffs at that and teases you about just taking the damn compliment. You put in the work; it was all you.

“Seriously, you deserved it,” Wanda says honestly, and you finally accept the praise.

“So, what’s next for miss Director of the Year?” Natasha asks leaning on a propped elbow, body facing towards you and Wanda.

“Well, I managed to finally book Bucky Barnes in an upcoming project…” she starts out, but the moment you heard his name slip from her lips, the rest almost didn’t matter.

Bucky Barnes was somewhat of a legend. There wasn’t a model or director that didn’t want to work with him. The man was downright gifted in every aspect and his work speaks for itself. Before you broke onto the scene, you’d gotten off to his videos, and only dreamed of one day starring in a scene with him, but you were still new to this world.

As a promising star, you had a long way to go and tons of plots, positions and people to still experience, so landing a role with someone like Bucky Barnes wasn’t entirely written in your plans any time soon. Then again, your first girl-on-girl scene was with your mentor herself, so anything could happen, right?

“I just haven’t found my girl yet,” was the next thing you pick up Wanda say the moment your head comes back from the clouds, “...I have all this momentum now that I want this to blow everyone away, especially Stark.”

Tony Stark was her rival. It was a friendly competition amongst friends. You hadn’t gotten the chance to work for him yet. He was a playful character and had directed some of the best adult films out there, Wanda just happened to be the better of the two this year…

“Sorry, I’m retired,” Natasha reminds her and repositions herself on her back.

“Fuck you,” Wanda says playfully to which Natasha responds with a finger in the air before she clarifies, “I was hinting at this year’s Best New Starlet…” and slyly looking in your directly.

“Me?” You ask incredulously. Your head can’t even start processing that you’re finally getting the opportunity to work with Bucky.

Wanda rolls her eyes at your obliviousness, “no, last year’s Best New Starlet. Hell no! Of course, you!” You respond in the same manner as your mentor, who is more than amused at you also following her lead, and flip Wanda off. Wanda snatches your hand to bring it away from her face, “I’m serious!”

“I-I don’t know, Wan,” a part of you is a little scared that you’re not going to be able to keep up with someone as established and with the star power as Bucky, “...like you said, you have all this momentum behind you. I don’t want to fuck this scene up because I don’t have a lot of experience.”

“Are you fucking kidding?” Natasha pipes up on the other side of you. “This is the perfect role for you!” She sees the questionable look on your face and sighs before explaining. “You’re a fresh face and rising star! People are lining up to book you, Stark included.”

“Nat is right. You’re a hot commodity now! I need someone who is a little inexperienced to mix with someone that is,” Wanda further explains her premise, “let him take the lead, but at your pace. I need it to be raw and passionate. People love that shit!” They were right, he had all the experience, and you were a fresh loveable face. It was the perfect combination.

You remain quiet for several seconds before Natasha rats you out, “and don’t even try to act like you don’t want to work with Barnes. This is your fantasy come to life.” Way to throw you under the bus like that…

There’s no denying your goal to work with him. He’d been in this business much longer than you had, you didn’t think your paths would ever cross on a set, but the opportunity couldn’t have presented itself in a more perfect point in your career.

The room is very pristine. White walls with a king size bed, also adorned in white sheets, fluffy pillows scattered at the top, minimal furniture around to make it look realistic, and the lighting was just right. Wanda had received a hefty budget after her recognition that’s for sure.

“Alright, girly, let’s get you on the bed!” Wanda happily directs.

You nod silently, remove your footwear and plop down on the center of the large mattress. You decide to leave your legs sprawled on one side of your body, settling on a bashful position. It’s not hard for you because although you agreed to do this and have done several scenes, internally, you’re freaking the fuck out. Unbeknownst to you, it’s all part of your charm; the innocence you somehow still radiated was an all too endearing quality and actually sexy.

Even your attire was pretty modest, opting for a more casual look with black leggings and a tight long sleeve that accentuates your figure and shows off the right amount of cleavage. It was something that you could easily wear out in public, which again was a part of your brand in being as natural as possible, but come the right circumstances, when it was time to roll you could turn on the right switch.

“We’ll start off like a typical casting interview before we bring Bucky in and then we’ll go from there. Sounds good?” She runs down the plan with you, fixing a few strands of flyaway hairs on your head before back away from the bed. With a thumbs up and a smile from you, she starts recording.

“Welcome, Best New Starlet of the Year!” Wanda greets from behind the camera.

“Hi,” you politely reply with your signature sweet smile and a wave to the screen.

These scenes start off with a small interview recounting your tale into the porn industry leading up to your recent achievement and even delving a bit into your personal life before the topic changes to your co-star.

“So, how excited are you to work with Bucky today?”

No matter how hard you practiced at keeping a straight poker face, that was something you were unable to master from Natasha, and the blush couldn’t be contained.

Fidgeting at the hem of your top, you open and close your mouth, trying to find the right words. You’re overly flustered at the thought of Bucky and he wasn’t even in front of you yet. You don’t want to sound like a fool and ruin the atmosphere. Wanda mouths words of advice from where she sat in the director’s chair, “be honest.”

“Um, I’m...nervous,” you say truthfully.

“Nervous?” She questions, urging you to elaborate.

“Yeah, he’s Bucky Barnes! He’s hot and he’s got so much experience. I’m kind of scared I’ll be boring,” you finish explaining and hope to God that Natasha doesn’t kill you afterwards, or with that answer let Wanda down, but the smile on her face sends you a wave of assurance.

Maybe you could do this...

Earlier that day, Bucky had already recorded his little opening scene. Wanda had called him to report on set before you were scheduled to arrive.

On the contrary, Bucky was also a tab bit anxious to work with you. He’d seen some of your work and more so heard about your talent from his own best friend, Steve Rogers.

He didn’t deny it, he was very much attracted to you and he wanted a chance to work with you too. Bucky wasn’t a jealous person, which made working in the porn industry easy for him, but when he had to hear Steve recount his scenes with you, he couldn’t help but want to sock his own childhood friend. He didn’t of course, but the rage was evident and his other friend, Sam Wilson, took some sick pleasure in teasing him over it. In fact, the eccentric personality of the trio of friends, decided to tag along with Bucky to introduce himself to you and get under his skin a little more.

“What’s going on in that nasty head of yours?” Sam poked at Bucky as they made their way over to Wanda, who was by the camera setup going over a script with another stagehand. When Bucky doesn’t respond, it provokes Sam even more, “no way, you’re nervous!”

Bucky sighs fed up with dealing with the anxiety brewing ever since he found out he was going to star in this film with you. “Shut the fuck up, will you? Of course, I’m nervous,” he says, trying to remain calm.

“Dude, you’ve slept with some of the hottest people in the world and millions of people have seen you naked. Why is one girl any different?” Sam wonders.

“I don’t know, ok. She just seems so down-to-earth and normal?” Bucky attempts to explain. You were real. His work was just that, it was a work, and he was afraid that it would be different with you. He could say he was almost intimidated by you.

“Yeah, as if I don’t have to hear that enough from Rogers…” Sam chimed in. Steve had nothing but high praise for your performance. In fact, his testimony helped expose you a little further. He was an honorable performer and a respected one, so they took his word on you. “Maybe, I’ll be her next co-star,” and just like that Sam ruined a moment.

“God, I hate you,” was the last thing exchanged between the two friends as they finally reached Wanda. She warned Sam to behave and gave Bucky a quick rundown before instructing him to hop on the bed.

Bucky’s interview starts a little differently than yours. Having already been a more established performer than yourself, no one needed his background story. The only thing Wanda wanted out of him was his plans and opinion on you.

“Well, I don’t know too much about her, personally speaking...but everyone seems to love her,” Bucky’s answer was a bit bland for Wanda.

“She’s a great person to work with,” she comments and that’s a tactic most directors used to get talent to keep talking.

“That’s what Steve keeps saying,” he says with somewhat of an awkward light laugh. He could see Sam facepalming next to Wanda at that lame answer.

“Yeah, you don’t win best female newcomer for nothing,” Wanda points out. If anyone was the lucky one here, it was Bucky. He was climbing up in age and you were the next big thing. You were the real star of this film not Bucky. She was counting more on you to deliver than him.

“That’s right. She’s a very talented performer,” Bucky says, and this small comment opens up a can of worms for Wanda to build up on.

“Oh, so you’ve seen some of her work?” Bam! He was caught.

Bucky’s mouth starts twitching slightly and Wanda and Sam are smirking from their spots as they watch the gears in Bucky’s mind start turning faster trying to think of something. The only piece of advice Wanda gives is “be honest.”

He sighs, the jig was up. Smooth Bucky Barnes was caught red-handed, “yeah, I’ve watched some scenes. I’ve seen her in person a few times too…”

“Wait,” Wanda interrupts him abruptly. She knew you were attracted to Bucky, but never knew of any encounters between you two, “when did you meet her?”

“I haven’t,” Bucky starts, which causes a look of mass confusion on Wanda’s face before he follows up, “formally. I haven’t met her formally, but I’ve seen her at a few parties and at the award show...I was just nervous to walk up to her,” the words just kept flowing out of his mouth and he inwardly cringed at how awkward he might’ve sounded.

Sam was amused by his embarrassment, but Wanda was pleased with this result. Bucky was good at what he did and that included him trying to play it cool, which he did well on screen, sometimes.

“You know she was actually thrilled to find out she would be working with you,” Wanda said, stretching the truth. The truth was, you hadn’t verbally confessed that, at least not yet.

“Really?” Bucky asks all too hopeful, his mood noticeably perking up.

“Yup! Ever since she won Best New Starlet of the Year, people have been lining up to book her, but she chose this project. You were the deal breaker, Barnes,” she fabricated and hoped this all worked out for you two in the end.

“Wow, who would’ve thought this has-been still had it in him?” He jokes at himself. His humility would get the best of him in every situation.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself! You didn’t win Best Male Performer of the Year again for nothing!” Wanda says and then steers the interview to a close.

After wrapping up Bucky’s scene, he’s allowed to stay in another room with a monitor. At first, he thinks it’s to help him prep for the scene, but to his surprise it’s a live feed of your interview and he starts clinging onto your every word. Enthralled by your journey, work ethic and he gets flustered all over again hearing you talk about your equal eagerness to work with him.

“You know, if anyone is the lucky one in this situation, it’s Barnes,” Wanda reminds as your interview comes to an end.

“Right,” you sarcastically remark.

“Are you ready for us to bring Bucky in?” She asks.

“It’s now or never,” you reply.

You watch the doorknob twist and the door open to slowly reveal Bucky. Where do you even start with him? He just looked like the total package. His gaze immediately on yours. As he makes his way towards the bed you’re still sitting on, when his knee comes in contact to the edge, you maneuver your body in his direction, sit up on your knees to meet him halfway and welcome him in a hug.

“Hi, it’s nice to finally meet you,” he says when you pull apart. The both of you don’t break away completely. Your arms are still wrapped around his neck, his hands placed just above your waist, you can feel his fingers that slipped under the fabric rub your skin.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you respond, giving him a genuine smile and can’t help but stare at his pretty face. You had to remind yourself he’s just another guy, except he wasn’t. You didn’t know how he felt, but you wanted this, wanted him. You also don’t know if you’ll ever work him again after today, so he was going to get the real you.

A small, subtle clearing of someone’s throat shatters the staring contest between you and Bucky causing you both to sheepishly break away from the other, not realizing you’d both allowed dreaded dead airtime to pass by. You scoot over to make room for him next to you on the bed. After he pulls his footwear off, he sits cross legged in front of you, you have one leg tucked in and the other extended in front.

Bucky’s not entirely oblivious. He not only witnessed you backstage reveal you were actually nervous to work with him, he could feel it, so at an attempt to help ease both your nerves, he places a hand on your shin and absentmindedly run his hand up and down the fabric, fingers sometimes stopping to mess with the cuff of your leggings and at the skin of your ankle, while he listened to you speak.

He congratulated you on your achievement as you did with him, both a blushing mess before diving into different topics like traveling and other interests.

Wanda stood proudly behind the camera watching the scene unfold. Everything was so candid and real between you and Bucky, the chemistry was clearly evident, she didn’t foresee there would be much directing on her part today, which was going to make her job easy.

“Wanda said you were excited to work with me,” Bucky teases, wanting to see if what you said was just for the cameras or if it was really true, but also, he found out he liked to see you get all hot and bothered in more than one way.

Your jaw drops and you look directly into the camera, breaking the fourth wall, calling out to Wanda. You playfully chastise and curse at her for revealing your secret. She tells you it was going to come out anyways, and while that was true, you’d hoped it was later and much after you’ve slept with him, hoping it doesn’t ruin the shoot, but Bucky assures you that it’s actually a flattering to hear or in his words, “assuring” for someone like him.

“Are you kidding?” You say, lightly shoving him back, “you’re like a legend! Of course, I was excited! I’m surprised you agreed to work with a rookie like me!” Now that the cat was out of the bag, you might as well own up to your secret.

“Everyone wants to work with you,” he makes clear, leaning in closer. Fuck, he didn’t even need to initiate foreplay because with the way he was looking at you right now, you could come swear you’d come undone for him in an instant.

“Oh really?” You challenge, your body gravitating like a magnet towards his.

“Yup, Steve wouldn’t shut up about you and even Sam said he can’t wait to someday work with you,” he said, voice slowly dropping in decibels and his hands sliding up your thighs.

“Did he?” You ask, but you don’t really care about Sam as your eyes look dead into Bucky’s blue ones, swirling into a darker shade full of deep want and desire.

“Yeah, but let’s see if he still wants to try to outdo me after I’m done with you,” he whispers, finally closing the gap between your lips in a sweet kiss. It was about as sweet as it could last because after just one taste of your lips, he was a starved man, hungry for more. You tried your best to match his pace and the kiss turned sloppy very quick.

You moaned at the pressure of his lips pressed roughly against yours, and you do your best to keep up, but you’re already finding yourself short of breath. However, the more you try to pull back to regain some oxygen, the more he’s unwilling to part as he grasps your face in both hands to keep you still, so you lightly squeeze at his biceps as a warning in hope he gets the message.

Lucky for you, he does and lets up. He’s also noticeably breathless, his warm breath fanning against your kiss-swollen lips, his forehead resting against yours. Bucky’s hands are still on your face.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, and you let out a small chuckle at the sincerity. He was cute.

You take his hands in yours and bring them back down to begin undressing him starting by helping him slip his shirt over his head, the fashionable dog tags around his neck clank as it slaps against his toned chest, you let him keep them on though.

Bucky sits up on his knees as he watches you settle on your stomach, propped up by your elbows, hands getting ready to work on his lower half. He patiently watches as you unbuckle his belt, pop the button of his jeans off, and drag the zipper down.

With his pants hanging loose off his hips, you begin to plant soft kisses along his navel down the defined lines that lead to his cock. Each contact of your lips sends a ghostly tingle and the blood to rush even quicker down his lower region. The imprint of his endowed member doesn’t leave much to your imagination, you can already see the stain where the tip is through his tight boxer briefs. It gives you a little boost of confidence knowing you’d caused this and would get to take care of it.

You hook your fingers into the undergarment and tug them down his muscular thighs. His cock springs out, almost hitting you in the face causing you to jolt back a little and a smile to spread across Bucky’s.

Your clumsiness was also a part of your charm. It wasn’t on purpose, you were still learning after all, and that’s what made it so unique and fun to work with you. Your partners just felt a real, genuine connection, citing it felt less choreographed and of a porno with you.

A little embarrassed about that move, you’d watched what he can do with that cock, but nothing could’ve prepared you for it face-to-face. You don’t waste any time on getting your hands on him and wrap your fingers around his half-hard cock and start pumping him sensually.

He’s hot and soft in your hands before getting gradually heavy. The look in your eyes grows more predatory as you watch him grow and feel him getting harder with each pump causing more and more pre-cum to ooze out. You spread it all over the head of his cock with your thumb then daring to look up at him, hoping he was indeed enjoying your work, before you pucker your lips and kiss at the crown. Bucky curses when he sees your lips shining, coated in his pre-cum, with a string connecting you to his cock.

You gather the fluid up in your hand before spreading it all over his length, when it’s not enough you start not only pumping him faster, but also licking up and down, from the base to the tip, hoping to effectively slick him up. The way your tongue scrapes along over Bucky’s sensitive flesh stirs him up. Your other hand joins in to fondle with his neglected balls, massaging and pulling at them in the right moments, sometimes you travel a little south and take them in your mouth. It all but drives Bucky wild and it’s confirmed with each swear that leaves his mouth.

Bucky wants nothing more than to lodge himself deep in your throat, but he remembers he needs to go at your pace, and once you’re broken in a little more, you could follow his, so he’ll bide his time for now and watch you work.

When you’re ready to take him in, you regain his attention and he watches you slowly take in his inches down your mouth, stopping halfway before your wide-open mouth hollows out. Your full mouth immediately waters around him and it doesn’t take long before you’re a drooling mess all over his cock. You pull back torturously slow, looking back down watching his cock reappear and loving the way it disappears back in, and especially how it feels when it drags through your mouth, taking note of the veins and unique ridges.

“Don’t be like that, doll,” he says, wiping some of the hair away from your face, “come on and show me why they don’t stop talking about you,” he coaxes, now gathering some of your locks in his hand to completely give you both a clear view. He tries his best to not take the lead, but you don’t disappoint as your mouth works faster on him. The gagging and sucking, mixed with Bucky’s moans of pleasure soon become the soundtrack.

You’d gradually take him more and more in, close to deep throating him, and you’re just ready to let up, but he can’t help it and before your last round, he holds your head in place.

“Don’t quit now, baby,” he encourages you, placing his other hand on the back of your head, keeping you still and carefully starts to thrust his hips, urging you to take him all the way, “...that’s it, you can do it, you can take it,” he releases a big sigh feeling the tip of your nose bump his lower abdomen. The moisture builds up in the inner corner of your eyes and you do your best to mind your breathing and not choke.

“Fuck!” He can’t help but shout when he feels your throat contract around him. You just looked so divine, mouth full of his cock. He keeps you there for a few seconds, before releasing his hold, and you immediately pull back, drool dribbles down your chin, and you’re desperate for oxygen to return back into your system. He grabs your face by your chin forcing you to look up at him.

He uses his fingers to scoop up some of the mixed fluids of his arousal and your saliva at your chin before presenting it in front of you. You easily read his mind, look up at him with big, watery eyes, and take his coated digits in your abused mouth sucking the juices clean off him.

He growls and commends you, “...such a good girl.” When he slips his fingers out of your mouth, a small pop could faintly be heard, he gently yanks at your hair, craning your head back further, it’s almost painful but you don’t care, “do it again,” he demands.

You bite your lip and reposition yourself. Bucky settles in a more comfortable position on his back, completely rid of his pants and underwear, his legs spread open for you to lie between them. Before you get back to the job, you slip your tight top off, all-natural breasts spilling out and on display for him. His cock twitches at the sight and he lets his head fall back when he’s once more fully encased in the warm, wet cavern of your mouth.

When he finally starts begging you to let up, you pull back slowly pumping him and watch his every move, the rise of his chest as it heaves from the activity, the way he runs his hands over his face. He’s absolutely stunned by your performance so far.

“On your back,” he says, and you do as he commands, and forget who is supposed to really be in charge. He yanks your leggings and panties all the way down, chucking them behind him somewhere in the corner of the room.

“You’re so sexy,” he compliments, eyes taking in every inch of your naked body, hands getting their fill. His body dips, lips latching onto your breasts, kissing at the skin and sucking on each nipple before they make their way up the juncture of your neck and claim your lips again.

You feel his tongue run along your bottom lip, and they part to grant him full access. You barely notice how he takes a hold of one of your hands, he pulls his face away to bring the hand in his grasp up to your face, using your fingers to trace the outline of your lips. You see him inaudibly instruct you to open your mouth, you do as you’re told.

“That’s right get those fingers nice and wet,” he coaxes you to suck on your own digits until he deems you ready for the next move. When he finally does pull your fingers out from your mouth, he extends your arm, ghosting them just over your pussy.

“Play with that clit,” he tells you and you don’t need to be told twice. Your pussy was begging for any kind of attention. You let your wet fingers roll over the bundle of nerves, puffs of breath escape your body as you’re finally attending to your own needs.

Bucky sits back and watches you intently, fascinated by your every move. He instructs you to close your eyes and listen to his voice, instructing you to go slow at first, “does that feel good?” the only reply he gets is a fast nod, “yeah? Make yourself feel good...that’s it,” his words only encourage your fingers to soon work faster, “let me hear how good it feels,” he demands, and you moan and whine like the true pornstar you are, your circular motions speed up, the lewd noises egg him on and soon enough he wants a taste.

“Let me help you out,” and you feel the bed shift a bit, “spread those wet lips for me,” he requests. You use both hands to invite him into your wet, glistening hole. You pick your head up to see his face buried between your thighs, you watch just long enough until each broad lick up and down your pussy sends you close to the edge.

He no longer needs the support of your hands, and they find purchase in his dark, fluffy hair as he starts sucking on your clit and tonguing your folds. At first, you’re doing a good job keeping your legs apart to accommodate him, but it gets harder and harder for them to not clamp around his head, with every nudge the tip of his nose makes at your clit and it doesn’t help your case when he inserts a finger inside you. With a good curl, his finger scratches dangerously close to your sweet spot, causing your legs to start quivering.

The sudden hitch in your breathing catches his attention, and Bucky tests the waters more by digging in deeper and curling in further. He notices the increasing agitation and knows he’s found the trigger.

“Bucky,” you whine, hoping he doesn’t push you over just yet. You want to last longer, and so you reluctantly attempt to scoot back further away, but the sudden strong grip he has around your leg locks you in place. You pick your head back up and find Bucky’s eyes trained on you. You see the stoic look in his eyes laced with determination. Oh no, he wanted you to come now. You feel a hum from his full mouth, only pushing you further.

“Don’t hold back,” he says against your pussy, “let go,” and the gruff in his voice, vibrating against you, his thick digits still curled deep inside you, you can’t hold back the floodgates from bursting any longer.

He laps up your arousal as you desperately try to regain composure. He really pulled one out of you, proving he was as every bit good as he put out and you’re not even close to the end of this scene.

“Come here,” he says, getting back on his knees and pulling you up by your arms so you’re in an up-right sitting position once again, but with Bucky still towering over you, “open up.”

You comply and open your mouth wide, tongue out, not understanding his motive, and you’re met with full surprise when he spits in your mouth, a firm grip on your face, he holds you still.

“Don’t swallow,” he gravely warns. You feel and probably look stupid not knowing what he wants you to do with your mouth open wide and full of his spit mingling with your arousal, just trying to keep it all contained. Bucky was testing your patience and obedience and you passed every test so far. You were just the right amount of submissive, absolutely perfect.

You can feel his hard cock pressing up against your sensitive pussy, it slides up between your folds and the base rests on top of your mound. “Drool it out...on my cock,” he instructs. Oh. He guides your gaze down between your bodies, you purse your lips, and both watch as the liquid cascades down onto his erect member. He uses it to lube himself up before he pushes you down to lie flat on your back.

Bucky slowly but easily slips inside your wet channel but notices your slight struggle. He was big, and he gets it. The way your eyes are tightly shut, hands pulling at the sheets, you struggle to breath and your walls cruelly grip him tight. Normally, he’d just pound away until his partner got used to him, but he didn’t want to do that with you. He wanted you to enjoy feeling him.

He tries to help you relax by rubbing your thighs a little with soothing motions, when they fall limp on either side, he leans down, you feel the cool metal of his dog tags against your heated skin, his weight sort of comforting on yours, and arms entrapping your head. He lovingly calls out your name, and your eyes flutter open, your attention refocusing on him.

“We’ll go at your pace, alright?” he assures you. You curse yourself for allowing your heart to swell at his concern, but you nod giving him permission to move slowly. Your whimpers soon transition into pleasurable moans, the more your body begins to adjust to his.

“Damn, you’re so tight. You’ve never been stretched out like this by anyone before have you?” he dares ask, once he sees it’s a safe playing field once more, his hips moving slow, his cock sliding in and out of you. You attempt at a laugh between your ragged breathing and the intense sensation coursing through you.

“No,” you respond and kiss at his chin, the light stubble pricking your soft lips, “you’re so big.” You feel his cock twitch inside and you want to curse yourself again at the comment that unintentionally riles him up because he was nestled close to your spot again. Fuck, he could reach just the right depth in you.

“Fuck, Bucky,” you don’t want to go slow anymore. Fuck Wanda and this movie, you wanted all of Bucky now, “please fuck me,” you resort to begging. He inwardly growls and his hips start snapping forward, thrusts growing hard and uncalculated. You just lie there and allow him to use your pussy for his pleasure.

Bucky’s movements falter a bit in this position, so he steers both your bodies on their sides, still facing each other, he slings your leg high up over his hips, and resumes his task. His cock glides right back in your pussy and the new angle causes you to yelp and walls to clench around him.

“You feel so good,” his voice riddled with so much lust as he brings your body closer to his with a hand behind, full of your plushest asset. Your head rests on the bicep of his other arm that was underneath it.

Bucky’s expressive eyes ask you if you're close, and the more your walls continue to grip him, he starts begging for you to come with him. “I’m gonna cum,” he warns, giving up and letting you take the rest of the lead.

“Yeah?” you huff out, your fingers digging into the side of his hips, “you want to cum inside me?” You know he does; you can feel and see it written all over him, but you want to just poke at him like he had with you, “I want you to...I want all your cum inside me, Bucky,” and you wanted him to cum hard, deep inside, “fill my tight pussy up, please,” you plead.

With one more jab of his hips, your back arches and head is thrown back, you can’t help but let out a scream as your orgasm rips right through you like it’s never before. Bucky’s body on the other hand caves into yours, feeling almost paralyzed as your tight walls hold him in place and all he can do is bury his face into the sweaty skin of your neck.

His mouth hangs open, a plethora of profanities coming out of him, and he waits for his cock to finish spewing ropes of his hot, thick cum into you. Your walls can’t help but to involuntarily contract in small aftershocks, especially when he’s still coming.

Bucky continues to moan as he does as you hoped, he came hard and deep inside you. When you’ve both finally come down from the high, it’s silent, and even though you’d both long forgotten you were on a set with multiple people watching you two, they were also quiet, completely taken back by the performance.

Incoherent cries come out of each of you, when Bucky agonizingly pulls his cock out. For the most part you’re able to keep him inside, but he’d proven to come so much some of it seeps out and runs down in streak fashion along your thigh, staining the bed sheets.

In your last act, as your gazes meet each other again, your fingers dip inside your soaked cunt and coat them. Hypnotized by you, Bucky watches as you greedily suck off his essence from your digits, and you evoke a small hum in his favor at the taste bursting in your mouth.

Bucky bites at his bottom lip, trying to not lose it again. When your hand disappears, he tenderly wipes the matted hair away from your face, smoothing your hair back before pulling your body close again, swooping your lips for a deep kiss.

“Shit, you’re good,” he admits, when he pulls away, effectively breaking the blissful silence. You bust out in a fit of giggles beside him and it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen. He’s not sure what he’s feeling, but it’s not something you’re supposed to feel towards your co-star, especially in the porn industry.

He smiles at you, basking in your afterglow and all he knows is that he wants to feel this high with you over and over, so he decides to risk it all, “I hope this doesn’t ruin the moment, but can I take you out some time?”

You try your best to read him, wondering if he was just still in the heat of the moment. Either he’s really good or he’s being sincere, you can’t tell and you’re hoping you’re not overthinking it, but his eyes, this whole time, were what gave him away. He performed with them and he definitely spoke through them.

Before you could accept and give him a definite answer, you’re both brought back to reality, “we’re still rolling here!” Wanda reminds.

A/N: Thank the pain meds for this. I think I effectively used up my vacation days the right way, won’t you agree? Likes, reblogs and comments/emojis are appreciated!

#mrwinterr writes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfic #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan x reader #pornstar!bucky barnes #pornstar!bucky #pornstar!bucky au

2K notes · View notes

theonewiththefanfics · 4 years ago

Text

Tomato - Tomato (one-shot)

Synopsis: One is an international rock-star. The other is his loyal assistant. Both are complete morons in love. Also - she’s allergic to tomatoes, and it is important.

This started off as something completely else. hope you enjoy :D

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Assistant!Reader

Genre: fluff, minor angst

Warnings: two idiots pining for one another, swearing, mentions of allergies and EpiPens

Word count: 3492

Being an assistant to someone famous wasn’t all glamourous parties and wild nights out with celebrities. It was scheduling last minute flights and not sleeping for three days straight as you packed a million bags and then repacked because their stylist sent you knew pieces and the old ones no longer fit the aesthetic of the week. It was also making sure that they were up by six AM with a hot coffee at their bedside ready to help them wake up as you lay out a detailed plan of the day down to the minute, while you yourself basically only had a two-hour nap because you had to finish off 568 handwritten notes to be sent out to each of the contacts in their phone. Or at least that’s what Y/N’s life was like being the personal assistant to none other than the modern-day prince of rock Harry Styles. Said rockstar was actually still asleep when Y/N entered his room, ripping open the curtains and letting in the rising sun. He groaned, pulling up the bedsheets that’d ridden down his form during the night. “Not that I don’t like seeing your gorgeous face in the mornings….” he mumbled into the covers. “But I don’t like seeing your face in the mornings when they start at six bloody AM.” Y/N snorted and rolled her eyes, rubbing them in an attempt to get rid of the sleep that still lingered in her own body. “You were the one that said you’re fine with seeing Lambert at eight for a fitting.” “When did I say that?” Harry scoffed, only the top of his messy bedhead seen from the cocoon he’d built around himself. “Would you like me to pull up the text messages, the calendar or the e-mails?” Even with her back turned as she rummaged through his closet for him to put on some clothes, she could sense the middle finger he threw at her, and she smiled. Despite everything, despite the zero sleep and stress always coursing through her veins, Y/N loved working for him. He treated her as a friend, not just some lackey he paid to, but most importantly, comparatively to the other people she’d worked for in the same line of business – he treated her as a human. If something went over the deadline, Harry didn’t scream or yell at her and tell Y/N how incompetent she was, instead he asked what kind of help or assistance she needed to get the job done, or maybe if she just needed some time off to gather herself and look at the problem with fresh eyes. “I hate how organised you are,” Harry groaned, finally throwing the covers off. “If I wasn’t, you’d be in a ditch somewhere.” She heard him scoff and two feet plop against the hardwood floor as he made his way towards her. “Is that how little faith you have in me?” “You don’t even know what day it is!” “Who does in these times?” Y/N shrugged her shoulders and handed him a pair of boxers, some loose jeans, and a flowery Hawaiian shirt. “Are you telling me I’m wrong though?” She looked over to her side, a smirk playing on her lips while he squinted his green eyes at her. “No, but it doesn’t mean I like getting called out, especially this early in the morning.”

With a roll of her eyes and a shove at his shoulder for him to move to the bathroom, Y/N handed him the clothes, moving downstairs to start making him some light breakfast and get herself a cold glass of water. You see, she’d been working as his assistant for close to two years, and they’d grown not only as people around one another, challenging their beliefs and world views, but as friends too. And, well, Y/N would be lying if the emotions hadn’t evolved from platonic to falling in love. Not that she’d ever admit it. He was an international sensation, and she was the girl who got him vegetarian croissants at the airport. She dragged a hand down her face as she clicked the stove on and took out a carton of eggs from the fridge. Y/N knew how he liked his omelette to the T, mostly because when she’d spent the first night of quarantine with him a year prior right as the pandemic had started, Harry had wanted to do something nice because she couldn’t go and see her family any more, so he’d gotten up at seven to make breakfast for both of them. The only problem was, he hadn’t asked if she had any allergies, so as he added bits of tomatoes, parsley, cheese and scallions, Harry hadn’t expected Y/N’s eyes to go wide at the first bite as she dropped the fork. “Harry…” Her tone had been cautious. “What’s in this?” He was sweating. Was his cooking really that bad? He just wanted to do something nice and there he was screwing everything up. “ ‘S just some of my favourite things. I’m sorry I didn’t ask, I just thought you’d like it.” “I do, but this tastes like it has tomatoes in it.” He nodded. “Yeah. It does.” Gently she smiled at him and pushed the plate a bit further away. “Could you grab me a coat, and if you have any – an EpiPen?” “An Epi – oh shit!” When the realisation hit him, Harry was jumping out of his seat, running to one of the cupboards and rummaging through in a panic all the while apologies flew non-stop from his mouth. Y/N in the meantime had gathered her purse and mask, making a call to the nearest hospital to explain the situation to which they responded they’d be waiting for her arrival. “I’m so sorry!” Harry ran up to her, a first-aid kit in his shaking hands. “Please don’t die! I didn’t want to kill you, I promise! I just wanted to make you some breakfast cause you do so much for me, and now you’re stuck here, and – oh god,” he cried. “I’m going to be prosecuted for killing my assistant.” She didn’t mean to, but the snort came out of her nose either way. “Harry.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “Please calm down. I’m not going to die.” “You’re allergic!” “Yes, I am, but I only had a small bite. The ER is just a precaution.” Y/N took his palms in hers and squeezed them. “Now take a deep breath with me…” They did so, holding it for five seconds and letting it out for eight. “And calm down a bit. I’ll go give myself the shot, and then I’ll drive to the hospital.” “Let me,” Harry begged. “Please, let me at least drive you to the emergency room. God, I almost killed you with an omelette, it’s the least I can do. I – I could also help you with the shot, I won’t hit an artery, I promise -” “Harry, you’re barely coherent. Not to say anything, but you’d have a bigger chance of killing me in a car crash, than from that tomato.” Y/N gave him a smile. “I’m gonna be fine.” With that, she left him to venture into the bathroom and did the unpleasant part of stabbing herself in the thigh to alleviate her body from the allergy symptoms. She sat there for around five minutes before she felt that the swelling of her tongue and itching in her throat was starting to subside, which meant the epinephrine was working. “Okay,” she huffed, taking her purse from the couch where Harry had been sitting, hugging the accessory. “I’ll be back in probably around two hours. Do we need anything from the store?” He shook his head. “Just come back home, please.” Y/N would never admit how her heart thundered in her chest when Harry said to come back ‘home’. “I will.” She promised. “Don’t you worry. You’re not getting rid of me that easy, Styles. The money’s too good.” She winked at him and then left Harry pouting on the couch, but she couldn’t get through the door, before he jumped up, yelling, “wait! Do I need to get rid of every tomato in the house?” “No,” she laughed. “I’m good to be around them. Even touch them. ‘S just my insides that don’t agree with it when they meet.” “Okay.” He nodded, hands on his hips. “Alright. I’ll uh – I’ll be waiting. I’ll make you something else.” “There’s no need for that, Harry.” His eyes widened at her words. “I swear I’m not trying to murder you!” “Oh my god,” she muttered shaking her head. “Just – just relax. Okay. I’ll send you hourly updates.” He bit his lip. “Make it every ten minutes.” “Harry –,” “Please?” The way he was giving her puppy dog eyes melted her heart. With an eye-roll, Y/N waved at him and promised to update her boss at every possible moment and confirm that he hadn’t, in fact, been the reason for her demise. Well, he was the reason for the demise of her low standards in men, having taken them and thrown them up to the Moon, but unless her feelings were miraculously requited or if one of the Marvel characters, she was obsessed with came to life, she’d have to stick to what was available. And in her mind, that wasn’t Harry. “What are you thinking about?” His voice startled Y/N out of the memory, and she shook her head, adding salt and pepper to the beaten eggs. She shrugged. “Just about that time a year ago where you secretly tried to off me because you were too nice to say you didn’t wanna quarantine together.” The groan he let out was of royal embarrassment, and it put a wide smile on her face, as she took one of the forsaken fruits and started to chop the red ball into small pieces. “You’ll never let me live it down, are you?” Y/N raised her eyebrow at him. “Your failed murder attempt?” She snorted. “Of course not! It’s like you don’t watch the crime shows and murder documentaries when I have them on. You really haven’t learned anything.” Harry stuck his tongue out at her and moved to her side, dropping some chives into the mix as well. “Well given how it wasn’t a murder attempt, I wouldn’t consider it a fail.” Her hip bumped his, and only then did Y/N really give him a once-over. As always, he looked amazing in whatever was on his body, but what made him even cuter in her eyes was the sleepiness still lingering in him. Harry’s movements were a little bit sluggish, eyes half-closed and small sighs passing his lips as he sipped onto the coffee she’d come to his place with. The shirt sat loosely on his body, the first two buttons left open while he’d tucked the bottom of it into the jeans, having found a Gucci belt and cinched it around his waist, giving it a more eighties look rather than the sixties vibe he usually had with his suits. The brown hair was still messy and dishevelled, and Y/N could barely, just barely restrain herself from running her fingers through it, but what she didn’t know Harry was struggling just as much. All he wanted to do was pull out the bottom lip Y/N had gotten in between her teeth and kiss her senseless, to have her fingers dig into his arms and leave crescent shaped imprints on his skin. “So, uh…” He had to start a conversation otherwise his mouth would find itself on Y/N’s mouth in a second. “What’s Lambert got in his schedule? How many outfits is he thinking?” “Two or three, I think,” she said, pouring the mixture on the pan and letting the slow sizzle erupt around them. “He’s got this one suit which I think you’ll really like – all leather, but it needs to be altered.” Harry hummed, and for a second both of them relished in the domestic feel of it all. They’d had many moments like it before, especially during the spring and summer seasons of 2020, and Y/N couldn’t help but relish in her memories at them. “Harry?” It was like her voice snapped him out from a trance. “Could you pass me a plate please?’ “Uh, yeah,” he stammered for a moment and then nodded, wordlessly going to a cupboard and taking out a white marbled plate. That single piece of kitchenware probably cost more than her life insurance, but it was definitely aesthetic if nothing else. Silently Y/N plopped the omelette onto the plate, placing it on the kitchen counter and went to get him a fork, however when she turned around, he was facing her, chewing quite agressively on the inside of his cheek. “You okay?” she asked, coming closer. “I can call Lambert, reschedule it for later. He wouldn’t be too happy about having to wake up and then – “ But Harry shook his head. “It’s not that.” “Then what?” He didn’t say anything. It was like he was trying to decipher the best course of action, and when he ultimately did, Y/N was pressed up against the counter, Harry’s forehead against hers with two ring-clad hands cupping her cheeks. “Harry,” she breathed, out her lips brushing his making the air in her lungs hitch. “What are you doing?” “Something I’ve been dying to do for a year now. If you let me that is.” “I -,” The words were muddled up in her head. Of course, Y/N wanted him to kiss her, she wanted him to ravish every part of her body. The fantasies and dreams she’d had at night would be incriminating proof if her feelings were on trial, but despite it all, her brain was usually in charge and would overrule any decision made by her heart. “Harry, we can’t.” She whispered, voice breaking. “I -,” Horror morphed onto his features as he took a step back. “Did I misread the signals? Did I do something you don’t wan –“ “No.” She grabbed onto his cheeks, trying to calm him down, his body practically melting into hers. “I do.” She didn’t need to explain what she meant. He understood. “So much it hurts me sometimes… but Harry, you’re my boss. My employer. It… it wouldn’t be right.” “Why? How can it not be right, when it feels like the rightest thing in the world?” “Because, Harry,” she huffed. “You’re my boss. And what’s worse – I love working for you!” That made both of them laugh, the tone of her voice as if she was more annoyed than anything else. “ ‘Nd why’s that bad?” He nudged her nose with his. “I’d hope my employees like working with me. What kind of a person would I be if I thrived on them being miserable?” “Because if I didn’t, quitting would be easy.” She raised her eyebrow at him. “And if I quit there’d be nothing stopping us from dating.” Harry bit his lip, finger trailing along her cheekbone. “There’s nothing stopping us now either. There is no clause in your contract that says you can’t date people who you work for or with. Sarah’s with Mitch, and they’re the happiest they’ve ever been. They’re even having a baby…” Y/N gave him a sympathetic smile. “I know. But that’s different. They’re on equal levels. You and I, however… I don’t want people to think I got my job because I slept with you, or some shit. It’s bad enough some already do so.” His brows furrowed, and Y/N saw how his jaw clenched. “Who?” “Strangers.” She shrugged. “I know you don’t look at comments like that online, but I see them. My DMs are filled with that. Gossip magazines. The point is – there are already unsubstantiated rumours about us. This would give them the confirmation they’d need.” “How can it confirm something that’s not true?” “There are still people who believe vaccines cause autism. Even when their ‘proof’ has been discredited and shown to be just complete bullshit, most don’t like to admit they’re wrong, so they’ll look for whatever tells them they’re right.” Harry huffed throwing his head back to look at the ceiling. “So, where does that leave us? In love, but without being able to do anything about it? Because I can’t.” He shook his head. “I won’t be able to just pass you by without kissing you, or not pull you into the bed when you wake me up, or press you against the wall and not have my head between these two gorgeous legs.” Y/N groaned slapping his chest and dropping her forehead against his peck. “That is so unfair. Why do you have to tease me like that!” “Oh, sweetheart.” The rumble was deep and shot a wave of heat straight to her core. “This is no teasing.” The smirk on his face when she looked up at him was shit-eating. “Trust me, if I was teasing, you’d be begging for me.” She’d imagined him between her thighs more times than it was appropriate considering he was her boss, but hot damn, did it feel amazing when his lips crashed onto hers, and she let him. In her dreams, his lips hadn’t been just pressed to her mouth but other places which were more south, but it was still one of the best feelings in the world. The kiss left them both breathless, and grinning and satisfied, yet begging for more, teeth nipping at the soft flesh. “I’ll put out an official statement, if you want,” Harry muttered against her mouth, unable to stop pecking her lips now that’d he’d gotten a taste. “But please, please, please… for both our sanities go out on a date with me.” It seemed like Y/N was the one contemplating the best plan of action now when her brows furrowed and she looked up at him, pressing and unpressing her lips, as the swelling from the kiss grew. “Did you by any chance have a piece of that omelette already?” She had a suspicion it wasn’t just from the kiss. His eyes widened, and then his head dropped to her shoulder. “Not again!” Y/N rolled her eyes lifting his face by the chin so he would look at her. “How about EpiPen first?” “Fair enough,” Harry grumbled unlatching himself from her and going for his keys and wallet, already preparing for the short drive they’d have to take. “But then a date?” She raised her eyebrow, taking out the box Harry now kept under the sink with at least three EpiPen’s for emergencies. “In a hospital?” “We could be going dumpster diving for all I care, and I’d count it as a date.” Y/N rolled her eyes. “You’ll have to do so much better than that; you’ve almost put me in anaphylactic shock twice. Now come on.” She motioned with her head towards the bathroom. “Stab me and take me to the ER.” “Fucking tomatoes,” Harry grumbled, taking her by the hand and not letting it go even for the short walk. “Tomato-tomato, you’re the one that kissed me.” “That I don’t regret.” Y/N smiled, turning towards him, and taking him by the nape of his neck pulled Harry down for one more kiss, groaning at the feeling of his tongue dancing against hers. “Y/N!” He pulled back with a gasp, shock on his face. She just shrugged her shoulders. “We’re already going to see the doctors anyway.” Harry pushed her shoulder and made her sit down onto the toilet. “Take your pants off before my kisses kill you.” “Yes, daddy.” Y/N wiggled her eyebrows as Harry moaned, squeezing her calf. His eyes were dark as he looked up at her. “Next time this happens, you’ll be begging me.” Her wicked smile was so full of happiness he couldn’t help the one that grew on his face. “I’ll be keeping you to it. Now, dear sir.” She handed him the EpiPen. “Hit me with your best shot.” And although it’d been now two times in their lives where Harry trying to do something good and make the other feel just as good had done pretty much the opposite, when they got to the emergency room, their smiles could be felt even under their masks Harry watched with blushing cheeks as Y/N explained the situation to the nurse, especially when one of them threw him an unsavoury glance, eyebrow raised high as if saying ‘again? One time wasn’t enough?’. “No more tomatoes.” He promised. “And also - it wasn’t on purpose!” Y/N squeezed his palm, chuckling. She may not be able to give a shot at eating a tomato, but she sure as hell was going to give Harry one. After all, she had almost died for the man. Twice.

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Harry Styles tags: @breezykpop @girlboss99 @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist @alliyjane @sirtommyholland @raylovessarcasm @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @harryhub

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue @im-squished

A/N: I’m at work and I wanted to write a bit for my book, but hahahahahahaha I can’t stop procrastinating. Also, this was something comepletely else centered around Christmas, then New Year and the Valentines, but I just couldn’t and it morphed into this. Maybe this Holiday season when it rolls around I’ll post it :D

P.S. if anyone’s had a septoplasty (repositioning of the septum) - how was it? how painful is it? kinda starting my journey towards it cause apparently I can’t breathe out of my left nostril, but I’m kinda scared ngl. I’ve read some horror stories about having holes and pieces of the cartilage fall out afterwards :///

P.S.S. what did ya think? my tags are always open, just drop a message if you wanna be added :)

P.S.S.S please don’t plagiarise or repost my work on other platforms (wattpad, AO3 etc)

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x reader smut #harry styles x assistant!reader #harry styles au #fanfic #fanfics #one direction #one direction imagine #1d fan fiction #1d

1K notes · View notes

witchlyboo · 3 years ago

Text

Definitely, maybe.

Part five: The one who belongs to someone else.

Introduction. Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four.

Paring: Latina!reader x Logan Lerman x Tom Holland x Ben Hardy x Timothee Chalamet x Pedro Pascal x Michael B. Jordan

Warnings: Swearing, angst, misspellings, some Spanish, me learning how to write properly, and NY stuff that I've learned from movies that we all agree to pretend are real.

Word count: 6.4 k

a/n: You been asking for smut, I know, I know, I just wanted to introduce you to all the boys first, and we're getting there, just one more ahead. Also, I'm working on a masterlist because we are getting too many parts already.

All body types and skin tones friendly. You can also enjoy it as a no Hispanic reader. Constructive feedback and misspellings correction is always welcome.

Red and blue lights flash the driving mirror.

—No, no, no, por favor que no sea a mi—You beg to the sky looking at the patrol that is asking you to park, or someone else, there's a lot of cars in this part of the city, there's a big chance is the panic who's controlling your senses.—Dios, mi abuela fue a la iglesia cada domingo de su vida y nunca te pidió nada, please let me have some of her divina recompensa.—But that's not how it works, you end up parking with just a few seconds to think what to say. There's a perfect explication of why you are driving a car that is not yours in the middle of the night and smelling like a minibar.

Then this ridiculous thought comes to your mind, you look expensive, you've never seen the daughter of a senator but you must be close to it, it would make you less of a feminist if you just use your attributes? Ugh, you feel sick just to think about it but don't have enough money to pay a fine, and the constant paranoia of being chased all the time as an immigrant will only get stronger.

You pull down your dress a little so your neckline can do its job but you regret it immediately, and you're pretty sure you look more like an expensive prostitute who stole the car of his lover than some influential men's daughter.

—License and registration.—You hear him say when he approaches your window. You don't like this but you have to play the dumb tourist, the pretty foreign girl that is too stupid to be dangerous, with the look you have tonight it shouldn't be hard. But damn you hate cops, any uniformed man that works for the government is your eternal enemy, and you don't know how long you could keep the nice dumb Latina game before spit on his face.

—There's something wrong, officer? ...You?!—Your sexy and fake high voice is ruined when you see the face of the man who stopped you. This night couldn't get worse.

—Wait, what happened with the party?—Evan interrupts you while you finish some notes for work, little remainders for later when you don't have an eleven years old kid running around you, he's not usually this energic and you have to blame yourself for that, you're describing a life of excess and eccentric fun, something you let behind so many years ago that your own son doesn't know even a bit of it.

—Ugh, a nightmare doesn't worth telling.—You remember vaguely most of it but what keeps fresh in your mind is bad enough to don't want to bring it back.

—But if Timothée is my dad I have to know the important things, including the bad stuff.—Sounds perfectly reasonable and that's what makes you groan at him. Sometimes you feel blessed that your kid is better than you in any possible way, and sometimes you want to kill his brain with video games and reality shows like the rest of the parents.

—Ok, cool, but I'll keep all the +18 content for myself, so this part of the story might be blurry for you.—It kinda is for you anyway.

You should’ve known this night was cursed, you had a feeling because a) your earring fell off at the same time Timothée texted you to give you the party address and say he can't pick you up. And b) he won’t pick you up. Your mother would say that’s reason enough to not go, a real gentleman wouldn’t make you go to an unknown place in the middle of the night on your own in a city like this. But you decide to ignore it because you are a modern woman and because it’s worth it. It better be.

The outfit must be something special. You always take your time to choose what to wear, even if just another regular day, and since this isn't the case you thought about it for hours, that made your mind busy enough to not thinking about Tom and the whole love confession. He texted you saying he'll come for you to go to class together on Monday, which is completely impractical because he's way closer than you but is progress and you're going to take it.

You wanted to ask for Sheep's opinion but you thought she might not care, has been a few days since she started acting strange like she's bothered just to see you breathe. You want to blame his boyfriend to take all her time and attention from you but is probably just her new job, she got a small role in a Netflix show, and even when you're so happy for her, that's the event that has changed her into someone completely different. But you give her time, stress can do bad things to people.

The winner is the exact copy you made of the black and white striped dress Cameron Diaz wore in "The Mask" beautiful, classy, and sexy enough without being too scandalous, not that you have any problem with that, but this isn't the occasion, you don't want to feel like you're being too much or too little, just enough, it's supposed to be easy, right? you were born for this. Just adding some big shiny earrings you got on a thrift shop that look like real diamonds and you're ready, not that you own any to compare. Red lipstick, dark eyes, and a messy bun to get that disinterested pitch every look needs.

Getting there wasn't a problem, you were in the rich part of the city, everyone know who, where and what just to brag about it. The excitement is growing with every second, you check your makeup like thirty times in the elevator and send texts to your mom just to let her know where you are, and because you have to share that moment with someone and you are limited of friends these days.

Timothée opens the door with red eyes, drunk, high, or somewhere in between, you know then you were right about the bad feeling. He jumps on you to kiss you and no matter how much you try to explain the delicacy of your lipstick, he does it anyway, leaving a taste of alcohol and shrimps in your mouth. Taking you by the waist he walks you to a group of people you don't know while you're trying harder to fix the red color of your mouth without a mirror.

—Here is the companion I bought, look at her, that's how five grand per hour look like.—They laughed but you were too disoriented to process all the things he said, it was supposed to be a joke? if it is, why isn't he correcting? Instead, his hand goes straight to your ass and presses it to get you closer to him.

—I'm actually an intern in the costume designer department of the new version of "Sense and Sensibility".—You wanted to mention your recent promotion to hairstylist and makeup artist but that might be too pretentious. Anyway, they don't seem to care what you are or not, in fact, they don't even see you, all eyes are on Timothée

—Oh, well, is easy to forget when you're paying them—All laughs again. Who is this person? Who are all these people, actually? You recognize some influencers, a few cast members but there's no sign of the director, other main actors, not even his co-star. You feel like an extra in a movie where someone will be killed in a luxury party, hopefully not you. You take his hand from your body and clear your throat.—I'm just joking my love, she looks stunning, isn't she? I’ll get you a drink.

He leaves and the group of people surrounding you suddenly dissipated like boiling water, you were on your own again and despite some judgmental gazes is like you’re not there, you’re sure you could just take your dress off and throw it to someone’s face and unless Tim says something about it, no one would care. You’re there as his companion, an ornament, and that’s not enough to earn their attention because it’s too obvious you’re the one in turn.

You walk to the only window no one is smoking and check your phone, you know, the thing you do when you pretend you have important issues to attend, but no, you end reading some old messages, pictures, texting your mom of how much fun you’re having at the party, and somehow you check your filed Facebook messages to find Logan’s name. You cover the screen so fast you hurt your nail, his name is enough to make you tremble like a Chihuahua, you haven’t talked to him since that night, you know from his sister he lives in the house he bought for you two and he’s having the happiest life without you. You want to believe that because that means you took the right decision but deep inside… no, you can’t be that person, you want him to be happier than ever.

You find the guts to open the message, and you read as slowly as is humanly possible. “My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health…” Dios, just Logan could start a message like that, your smile is almost too big to fit in your face so you bit your nail to cover it a little. “I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you’ll be happy to know…”

—That’s a fucking long-ass message.—Tim appears behind you and takes your phone from your hand, spilling some of his drink on your dress in the process. Apparently, he's been there long enough to read part of the message.

—Give it back.—You command in the most severe voice you have, your magical moment got ruined and you remember the hole of hell you are.

—"My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health. I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you must know I still use them now and then"—Timothée starts reading the message, and even when no one is close enough to hear it and you don’t really care about this people’s opinion, that’s not for anyone to read, that’s one of the few parts of your life you treasure the most and you’re not ready to get over it.—You little slut, are you cheating on me with a med student?

—Give it to me.—You repeat trying to take the phone from his hand but he’s faster and walks away putting it out of your reach.

—"I meticulously preserve them, I certainly know any piece of art made by you will be priceless in the near future"—You don’t want to hear it coming from his drunk mocking voice, so you try to ignore what he’s saying and put more effort on chasing the phone.—Should I had kept the jeans where you left the wet spot on? I didn’t know you were an artist, my love.

—Timothée, por el amor de Dios.—Now you're trying to climb him, it wouldn't be that hard to take him down, he's skinny and you're fierce. That's what you thought but he's not moving even with you are on top of his shoulder and his opposite long arm keeps the phone away from you.

—Who is this guy and why is he talking to my girl like this?—You see the olive eyes getting darker and the tone of his voice went deeper than you thought he could do. You desist from taking the phone, you know the bullies love the attention, maybe that's exactly what he wants and give it to him just makes it worse.

—I'm not your girl.—You claim fixing up your dress having enough of games, and you have no reason to keep worrying about losing your job, the filming is done, and apparently your relationship with him too. You don't care about any of that anymore, just want to read Logan's text.

Even behind all the alcohol and the eyes injected in blood thanks for who knows what kind of drug, you can see the disappointment and anger, but it's not a broken heart, Is the hissy fit of a child that loses his balloon and now everyone will pay for it, especially you.

—Are you sure about that?—You can see him swallow hard, almost looking vulnerable, but his voice is defiant and threatening to prove you wrong. He just has to stretch out his arm to reach the open window with your phone in hand, his intentions are clear and the only thing you can do is raise your hands as a reflex.—You were mine the moment you put a foot on my trailer, and I don't fucking share my stuff.—Before you can say a word he drops the phone from the fourth floor.

You know is senseless but you find yourself running out of the party and going to search the device, using it also as an excuse to get away from that place. This is the first time someone makes you feel meaningless, you know the famous' world is cold and lacking in empathy but this is ridiculous, they're a bunch of parasites fed by attention and power. By Timothée.

The screen is crashed and the rest of it is probably beyond repair, not that you're surprised, its life is longer than you've been in the country and you admit you should have replaced it much earlier but you're not the kind to throw away things that still work. However, is not the phone you are worried about, not as much as what it contains.

—That was obsolete anyway, I'll get you a better one.—You didn't know he was following you, his voice interrupts your self-wailing. He sounds calmer and a little embarrassed, but not enough to say sorry, you don't think he's capable of saying it.

You shake your head and start to walk away without a word, you don't want anything from him, not materially, at least.

—Don't make a scandal out of it, it's just a phone!—He yells erasing any trace of regret in his voice. He doesn't see the reaction he expected and that's when he runs after you and with a hand on your upper arm pulls you back, you gasped for the sudden bluntness.—That annoying habit you have of leaving when I'm talking to you.

You push him away with all the strength you have, which resulted in him almost falling on the ground.

—I don't care about the stupid phone!—You finally break, but sadly is not as satisfactory as you thought it would be.—You are mean, vain, arrogant and the worst part is that you enjoy being this despicable human because you have absolutely no consequences to it. Everyone around you just accepts it and I feel so sorry for you because the only possible way for you to fill the void inside is to be surrounded by that crowd of mules licking your steps—To your surprise, he has nothing to say, he's just standing there with no facial expression, whatever he feels is easily covered by his years of experience acting, even drunk.—I can't give you that and it's obvious they don't want me either. What am I even doing here?—You ask yourself thinking where would be the best way of getting a cab, is a rich zone, must be easy.

—Everything is better when you're around—His voice is thin and fragile, you have to process what he said three times in your head to understand his words. You're not willing to look at him yet.—You're not like the others.

—Pure bullshit. You love to repeat that misogynist discourse of girls being in a certain way because is easier than be responsible for the people you choose to be—You were hugging yourself the whole time, is a cold night, but not enough to be bothersome, you enjoy Fall weather—You got me for a moment, I give you that, you fooled me but I'm too tired of guessing what version of you is real—When you return your gaze at him, he doesn't try to hide the guilt anymore, but there's still haughtiness in there.—Now, if you don't mind Mr. Chalamet, I need to get a cab.

—No, you came with me, you leave with me.—There's no trace of alcohol in his voice anymore, a good scolding is enough to put you sober, you know that thanks to your mom. Oh god, you're becoming her.

—You didn't bring me here, gigantic head—You look at him and put your hand in front of him with the palm up. He stares at it for several seconds before put his own on it—Not that!—You shake it and start looking inside his jeans pockets until you feel the metal of his key car.—You can't drive and I have to get home. You'll find it in the studio tomorrow.

That's how you ended with a car way more luxurious than you expected, driving so slowly and carefully that the police stopped you. What a night, but at this point, you couldn't care less about anything that is not that message, is been months and you can't get over it, over him. Not even Ben moans, Tom's comforting arms, or fight with a movie star at 3:00 am. is enough to get him out of your mind.

—So is true, you don't wear anything that hasn't appeared in a movie, huh?—Michael B. Jordan is leaning on the car window with a mocking smile and a sparkle of satisfaction that you would love to punch but his uniform keeps you in line, where you come from police is not equal to justice, most of the times is oppression.

—You know where it's from?—That was kind of comforting, no one at the party noticed. Not that you care.

—Is The Mask, not some Adam Hitchcock's blurb.—He smiles and even when you really don't like him, it's nice to be with a familiar face, you are really tired of running away, scaping for problems that are a result of your null capacity to deal with emotions. Ugh, what a word.

—Is Alfred Hitchcock, actually.—You didn't want to sound priggish, but you correct him with no time to stop yourself, an old habit.

—You got me, smarty, you know more than movies than me. Where did you get this car?—You feel really nervous even when you got this legally, you have your documents and license on time and he's being nice enough to not want to run away in a car that you technically borrowed for yourself.

—It's not mine.—No shit, Sherlock.

—No shit, Sherlock, I was asking where did you steal it.—You wanted to laugh but there's something with the uniform that just doesn't allow you to be yourself.—Are you drunk?

—No, no, fuck, no, it's just, I don't feel comfortable with cops—He raises his eyebrows but that is his only reaction.—Listen, is my boss' car, I'm doing the favor to take it to the studio, and I'm really nervous because is fucking expensive, he's an asshole, I haven't drive un almost a year because you people only use cars if you're rich or your work and lives depend on it. I'm starving.—The last part came out of nowhere, you haven't eaten anything in almost 13 hours, maybe that's the actual reason why you are that moody.

He doesn't answer right away, takes his time to look at you, what makes you blush, he's really close, closer than he's ever been. Does he smell like green apples? Not the actual apples, the artificial smell they had given to them.

—Get out of the car.—Oh no, is he arresting you? Is he finally taking revenge for every time you make fun of his Hawaiian-type shirts? You know you have too much karma accumulated and a cop making you pay for it when you don’t believe in their sense of justice is kinda poetic, and evil.

You don’t want to discuss with someone with a taser, gun, pepper spray, or who knows what else. So you take your bag, the key car, and get off defeated.

—My turn is almost over, I’ll take you to eat something, c’mon.—He walks back to his patrol and you stay still for a few seconds still processing his words, you must look totally devastated for him to offer that. How you see it you have two options, go with him and spend an awkward hour with a person you don’t like or risk getting a fine, Tim can pay it, it’s not a big deal but you don’t want to owe him even the minimal thing.

You get in the car holding on to your bag to feel calmer, this is the first time you’re fully alone with him since you found him half-naked in your kitchen. Those defined abs may never leave your brain.

—Are you cold?—He interrupts your thoughts with his question, you didn’t notice you were shaking. He looks for something under his seat and gives you an NYPD hoodie, you hold it doubting your next move, is not like you don’t appreciate the gesture but it’d be easier to take if it doesn’t get that words printed—Is clean.—He says chuckling when he sees the way you’re looking at it.

—Is not that, just, you know, fuck the police, defund the NYPD, demilitarize the pigs and that stuff.—You say putting on the hoodie anyway, is a cold night and you won't help the institution wearing their propaganda.

—Yeah, I get it, but you can't change the system just from within.—You decide is not the right moment to have a political conversation so you shrug your shoulders and discreetly smell the hoodie, a mix of cologne, green apples, and cheap soap, you know is cheap because you buy the exact same, do its job.

—I'm in the mood for pizza.—You say casually, making a deal to yourself to try to be his friend, he is a small part of your life anyway.—Domino's is open at this time of the night?

—Tell me you're not consuming that shit, dear Lord, you been here for how long, two years? I can't believe your idea of a good pizza is Domino's. Stella hasn't taught you anything?—You're surprised by the level of condescension with a pizza and you mirror his smile, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Your school program includes people from all around the world so you don't have that much experience with actual new yorkers. Logan is rich, so he doesn't really count.

—What's wrong with Domino's? I don't buy much street food, is cheaper to buy things on the food market. Besides, all pizza is good.—The mention of Sheep makes you a little tense, so you don't say anything about it, is not a conversation to have with him.

—Don't blaspheme in the patrol, I just washed it—You laugh, finally, after a terrible weekend. You can see why she likes him, there is something about his voice, smile, and his eyes that feel... calm, like watching Friends after a marathon of Lord of the Rings.—There are rules to survive this city, and I'm surprised you have made it this far without a proper guide.

—Chill out Mr. Miyagi, I'm not from the jungle, and I've learned a lot by myself.—He gives you a lopsided grin as a request, and you put your fingers up ready to enlist your acquired knowledge.—Walk fast, like you're about to be stabbed, something that actually happened to me, with an umbrella—He nods and laughs being related to it.—Number two, no small talk, no one cares, even if they ask. Number three, if you look a stranger in the eye, especially a homeless person, you have essentially invited them to approach you.

—Number four, we never eat from Domino's, Papa John's, Pizza hut, or any other chain restaurant, only trucks and local places are allowed.—You roll your eyes but you get the point, is just, again, you're not much into street food, it doesn't taste like home and the only way to eat food like that is preparing it yourself.

—Fine, fuck capitalism, let's support local places—You make an obvious fake enthusiastic tone but he nods proudly.—Number five, you don't need a car to live here, not even know how to drive. I would have successfully avoided this police brutality if I had followed that rule.

—For someone who is about to eat for free, you whine too much.—He parks the car and gives you a sign to go with him. You see him go to a pizza truck and order, you realize at the moment how ridiculous you look, so before chasing him you let your hair down, take your huge earrings off, and roll up the skirt of your dress until your mid-thighs letting the hoodie cover the rest, and clean the red lipstick with a Kleenex from your bag. Now you look more like a college person and not a rich girl who just got seized.

—Here you go.—He says giving you a slice as big as your head, looks oily and spreading cheese everywhere. Perfect.

—Is it vegan?—You ask receiving the food with an obnoxious face. His kind grind turned into a dread expression and you give him your second laugh of the day.—I'm kidding.

You are about to give it a bite when you see passing next to you a huge rat with the exact same slice as yours in its mouth, running into the dark of the night happy to have obtained the food for its family. They use to scare you when you just moved out but now they're like any other pigeon in the sky.

—Rule... whatever, a rat with a slice of pizza is a symbol for good luck, congratulations.—He pets your head awkwardly, not sure if you're ok with the physical contact, which, surprisingly, you are.

—I see rats with bagels all the time.—Pizza and bagels, that's the main culinary wonders of the city, you like it, not much to object but is hard not to compare it with your home's food.

—Is easy to confuse a rough diamond with a simple rock.—You both eat in silence, enjoying the mixed sounds of the city and all the different smells, the whole situation feels like one of those lofi music videos. You remember thinking about moments like this before getting the scholarship, what would it be like to feel normal in the city of your dreams.

—How do you know that much about movies?—He asks after a few minutes when you take a break to drink something, that pizza is not easy to take.

—When I was a kid a spent much time on my own, so my dad bought me a used DVD reproducer, and at the corner of my neighborhood was this movie store where you could buy 5 pirate movies for one dollar. They were blurred, with a terrible sound, and most of the time with the wrong movie inside but they helped me to not feel lonely. Eventually, the store closed but I've watched everything in it by then—He gives you a warm smile, you never told that story to anyone, not because is too intimate to share, but because no one asked, it doesn't sound like a question with a complex answer.—Anyway, I watched Marie Antoinette when I was like eight, and I decided at that moment that however is done I wanted to be part of that magic.

—You hear all kind of people chasing dreams in this city but is hard to find someone who actually deserves it.—You blush and you cover it with your hair but the smile on your voice is impossible to hide.

—Is that a compliment? You must really want me to like you to date Sheep.—You laugh but you can see his face tense, so you can guess your friend has been busy breaking everyone’s hearts.

—She hasn’t returned my calls in three days so I don’t think there’s much you can do—You nod, all this time you thought he was the reason she is ignoring you but apparently you are both in the same boat.—But yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking, what I should have said is, Marie Antoinette at eight? I can see where all the damage started.

You gasp and throw your napkin at his head, he easily catches it without even looking at it and laughs; that was unexpectedly attractive.

—Why a cop?—You ask, not sure where that question came from, maybe you authentically want to know more about him, he just bought you food, and honestly, that's the easiest way to win your trust.

—I wanted to be an actor when I was a child. This is the city of opportunities so you may think that if you want to chase the big wonder, this is the perfect place to do it. But I grow up surrounded by these people giving their entire lives to get something just given to one in a million so I decided is not worth it. For many years I wondered what I wanted to do with my life and the answer was really clear, my dad was a cop, a good one, or that’s what people say. I don’t remember much because he died when I was seven—Conversations about death are not your strength, everything can turn out uncomfortable if you choose the wrong words.—It might not be that glamorous but if my father died for it, it surely worth it.

—For the good ones.—You raise your almost empty can of Coke and he does the same with a grin that warms the cold weather of the night.

—For the good ones.

The next two hours passed like minutes talking about anything and everything. It just felt right to talk freely with him, you didn’t feel judged for your awkward family moments or your random thoughts, not even once because he told you his too. At some point of the night he borrowed you his gym sweatpants, any of you could just suggest going home but that was off the table, end that peace just for weather reasons would have been a tragedy.

—I read Timothée Chalamet is a dick. Is that true?—The mention of his name remains you of your life and everything that comes with it, including the middle semester project that you must dedicate your entire day, one that is about to start.—What, you can’t talk about it?

—He is a complete dick with no sense of privacy or human decency—And when he interrupts a deep kiss to look at your eyes, smile, and caress your chin, you feel like a character of his Victorian movies. But he didn’t ask that.—But the next week he’ll be no longer my problem.

—That’s why we have rule twenty-three, don’t ask for a picture of a celebrity unless they are local—You have heard about it before but you haven’t got the opportunity to decide if you like that rule because the only celebrities you have seen are from work and that club’s party opening.—That means you’ll be free to go to the Stephen Kings’ movie projection there will be for Halloween.

You don’t know if that was a proposition, a suggestion, or just a simple recommendation, and whatever it is, you noticed he was nervous to ask. Is it wrong? It feels wrong like you were betraying your friend accepting to hang out with his boyfriend without her consent. But he didn’t ask you to go with him so is safe to answer.

—Yeah, I guess—You get a moment, four seconds top, where you shared innocent, curious, and tenting gazes like three graders in the playground. And that’s the further you will allow yourself to go.—We better leave, if the sunlight touch me I’ll turn into dust.

You get off the car hood and go to the side door, but this time he opens it for you. You give him a “seriously?” Look, receiving a little push in your arm as a response.

↬☀︎︎

A distant voice asks you to wake up, softly whispers that turn into caresses on your cheek, your eyes feel so heavy, even when you are well aware of your environment your eyelids keep closed.

—Good morning, Princess—This is the first time Tom calls you that way, the change from silly nicknames to Princess is enough to get you out of hibernation. He is squatting beside your bed, his smile is the promise of a better day, and chasing that idea you give him one small back.—Your mom has been texting me desperately all day, she said you're not answering her calls and is worried.

—Fuck, my phone broke last night, can I call her from yours?—That’s an oversimplification but in the search for a better story, that's what you decide to believe and tell. Tom nods and gives it to you, he looks happy, beyond that, this is the first time you see that subtle blush on his cheeks and the eyes sparkling. You sit on the bed next to his body looking for your mom's number, slowly he moves between your legs, you have shorts and an oversized Back To The Future t-shirt, you got took the time to prepare yourself to bed last night and keep Michael’s clothes inside your closet to wash them, like The Tell-Tale Heart, a little innocent secret who feels dirty somehow

The conversations with your mom are always long, nostalgic and the tears are hard to hold for both parts; after a long life sharing almost every day with her, her absence never feels smaller. But this time is different, Tom is exploring the bare skin under your knee with his warm hands, asking for permission with curious eyes, and when you don’t object to the touch the British boy keeps his exploring mission cautiously, giving special attention to see your eyes in case something change. Is time to hang up when he gives a long and loving kiss to your knee, the less erotic kiss you could think of but so intimate to bristle your skin.

—Not nice to touch someone's daughter when is talking to her mom.—The protest of your voice loses strength at every word, he heard that and just straight his back to reach your face, the gap is almost extinct.

—We're okay, she likes me.—He assures holding your hips and pulling you a bit to him. Tom looks very comfortable with the new closeness authorization, you like it but are not very sure about it yet, most of you still think of him as your best friend.

—Did she tell you that? Are you talking with my mom behind my back?—You laugh when he does, almost like nothing changed.

—She adores me, I swear, I'm invited to Christmas, you know?—You're not surprised, she invites everyone, Logan was too but the first time he got family plans and didn't make it to the second.

—You should go, maybe we can do...—His lips touch yours in a peak at the middle phrase and makes you forget what you were about to say.—Man, the audacity to interrupt...—Then he kisses you again, deeply, using his tongue to taste your inner lip and his hands holding your shirt in fists. That's a twist of events.

—Is that ok?—You hear a weak whisper coming out of his voice but you got so mesmerized on his lips that decided to ignore it and kiss him back instead. He responds to your touch and starts to lean over you to make you lay on the bed.

Jesucristo bendito, is this happening? like, actually happening? you must look like trash, you barely took all the makeup from the night before and didn't take a shower, you start to get so worried about smells, feelings, and what that'll mean to your already too much-spoiled friendship.

However, the time of doubts is done when Sheep starts yelling in the living room, you both reacted running to the sound and looking for your blonde friend. Michael is there but doesn't look like the same as a few hours ago, is annoyed and tired for the lack of sleep, a look that doesn't match him at all.—What did you do?—You ask him fast assuming she's mad for something he did.

—Just in time, the star of the movie, I was wondering how much it will take you to be the protagonist of this.—That is Sheep's voice talking about you and what must be your heart breaking from her words.

—Excuse me?—You wish your tone would be less savage but you can't help respond the same way she did.

—Logan wasn't enough, then you got the drummer, fucking Timothée Chalamet, Tom and now my boyfriend. I'm so glad I didn't leave you alone with my dad or I'd be calling you mom now.—You have no words to that, Michael doesn't even dare to look at you, he must have told her something she misunderstood, but Sheep, or well, Stella is saying things she actually thinks and keep to herself. Tom walks in front of you whispering things to her to calm her down but she is not looking at him, you didn't tell her anything about Tom either so he's taking responsibility this time.—Go ahead and fuck the whole city, Michael if that please you but you're crossing the line with Tom and you know that, you're going to ruin him as you ruin every man that enters in your life.—She has a very you moment having the last word of the dispute and getting out of the apartment with Michael going after her but not putting much effort in it.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Taglist:

@eridanuswave @cjand10 @deluxeplanteater @rorodendra @navs-bhat @coxxxxxpi @leviosatothestars

Thanks for all the love and support, if you have opinions, suggestions, or want to be part of the tag list (Or don’t want to be part anymore) let me know, I appreciate every message.

#ben hardy imagine #michael b jordan fc #tom holland x reader #timothee chalamet fanfiction #pedro pascal #logan lerman fc #definitely maybe #fluff #angst #timothee chalamet #Tom Holland #Ben Hardy

109 notes · View notes