#no fucking way that would be possible without all-out fighting in the street. the job of the police is among other things to keep

[purple-is-great]

Finnish media: a police officer on horseback rode into someone when breaking up a protest so that the person fell down. that was fucked up and probably not allowed

People in the comment section: well it's their own fault for not moving out of the way. the police told the people to move so anything that happened after that was their own fault.

[dilfstar]

daddy dearest

realdad!leon x daughter!reader 3k words. warnings ! incest, forced ddlg, infantilization, slight coercion, drugging, fingering, oral (f), piv, daddy kink, loss of virginity, creampie notes ! mega super awesome thank you 2 @localkiss for the idea and so much of this... wouldn't be able 2 do it without U i love u 🙏 ignore how fast the pills kicked in... just go w it ☹️

You were old enough to move out, get a job, live on your own, be an adult. But he had other plans. What kind of father would he be if he let his sweet, innocent daughter out into the cruel, harsh world? Where people could get you, men could grope you, ruin you! Just the thought of it made his skin crawl…

Leon made sure you stayed home, safe, and tucked away in your childhood bedroom. The walls were still painted in a light pink. Though, the decor was more reminiscent of a 5-year-old's room. Toys and coloring books were everywhere, with stuffed animals watching your every move. Yikes.

All of your old clothes were thrown out, too mature for his liking. What? Was he supposed to let his little girl wear next to nothing around the house? What if he had company over! His friends would eye-fuck you into the next century!

It wasn't like you didn't try to fight it or leave. You just couldn't. He put stuff in your food. You know he does. But how are you supposed to stop him when you can barely walk long enough to get to the bathroom on time? Your legs were turned into useless sticks from all the pills he snuck into your food!

He lived in some kind of delusion. Some made-up world where what he's doing to you was good for you, saving you. Fucking freak! You're his daughter! Not some random girl he met on the street, not some fucked-out whore he picked up from a bar. His child, his own flesh and blood. What kind of dad fucks their own daughter?

A good one! At least according to his definition of the term. A good dad should fuck his daughter’s brains out, leave her full of cum and barely conscious. It's his right. He deserves this after all the years taking care of you!

He didn't really care how you felt about the situation. Why would you be thinking about it in the first place? You're just his dumb little baby, too high to even eat on your own. You needed Daddy for everything. You needed him to feed you, change you into your cute little outfits, bathe you, fuck you until your body gave out. 

He ruined you. Leon took and took and took until you were nothing, just a doll for him to use and abuse with his twisted fantasies. He was a sick, sick man. A sick, twisted man you still loved. More than anything in the world. How could you possibly hate him? He's your daddy! He's just looking out for you.

It all happened so fast. Starting from a simple movie night with your dad. A few too many beers making you a little too needy, clinging to him like you did when you were little. The way you rested on him, used him as a pillow. Oh, it made his heart squeeze!

Your voice was so soft as you cuddled up to him, mumbling Daddy over and over. Leon raked his hands through your hair as you laid your head on his lap, so, so close to his dick. The way you wiggled around so much made it so difficult for him to keep it together. Such a tease, just like your mother.

Maybe that's why he loved you so much. You looked just like her, after all. Same hair, same nose, same lips… He needed you. He needed you so badly that it hurt. His cock ached, craving something warm around it. Something tight. Something perfect, like you.

You would be the best thing, right? I mean, you’re literally made just for him. Meant to be used as his personal fleshlight. The thought of any other guy touching you made him sick to his stomach. He deserved to be the only one! That's when it all clicked inside his head—the perfect plan coming together.

Leon carried you up to your old room, setting you down on the twin-sized bed like a princess, tucking you in with a gentle kiss on the lips. You tasted so sweet, like the strawberry chapstick you always put on. ��My beautiful angel… All mine…”

He planted another kiss on your forehead before leaving, running down the stairs to the garage to get some boxes of your old toys and clothes. He had to get everything set up while you were asleep, so you could wake up to your (his) dream!

Your head was pounding the next morning, the sunlight coming in through the window not helping. The sudden attack of pink woke you up instantly. Every single inch of the room you were in looked like a little girl's dream come true. The number of stuffed animals and dolls around you made your eyes burn.

You looked down at the outfit you were wearing, a shocked gasp falling from your lips. What could've possibly happened last night for you to be wearing something straight out of a Justice catalog? In what world would you willingly put on something this childish? 

The door opened, revealing a smiling Leon carrying a tiny cup in his hand, a few pills in the other. “Hey, sweetheart… ’m glad you're awake. Was starting to get worried! Here, I brought you some medicine. Should help with your headache…” 

He handed them over to you, sitting on the edge of the bed as he watched you swallow the pills. His stare was focused directly on your body, as if he wanted to pounce on you and attack. It all felt so off, so nauseating. Why was your dad staring at you like a piece of meat? Why did you wake up to all of this?

The room started to spin, your vision blurring as your head hit the pillow behind you. Everything felt so hazy, like a fog rolled into the room, blocking all of it from your view. “Dad… Daddy… What’s happenin’...?”

Leon crawled over to you, pulling back the fluffy comforter, revealing your bare legs underneath. He had to bite back a groan; the sight of you, his daughter, so vulnerable made him feel crazy. His hands moved up your legs slowly, inching towards your inner thighs, pulling them apart to reveal the pink and white polka-dot panties covering your core. He leaned in, inhaling your scent like it was the antidote to an illness he'd been suffering from forever.

“Shh… Just rest… “Daddy's here.” He mumbled, his breathing shallow and fast. His fingers looped underneath the waistband of your panties, gently pulling them off and pocketing them. He needed something for later!

He poked and prodded at your cunt, smiling like a perv at how perfect you looked. The light touches, mixed with his soft breaths sent chills down your spine. Your hips bucked as he brushed against your clit, disgust immediately washing over you. Why was he touching you like this? Why did you like it?

“Need t’see if my girl is a virgin… Make sure she saved herself for me…” He placed his thumb on your clit, pressing down gently, groaning at the way you shuddered from the slight contact. This shouldn't be turning you on. He's your dad, for crying out loud!

He spit on your pussy, eyes twinkling as the glob of saliva dripped down your slit. His fingers moved down to your hole, mixing the spit with your juices as he pushed a digit in. He started with slow, simple movements, soon adding another finger, and then another. 

They moved inside of you so painfully slowly that you wanted to scream at him to move faster! But whatever he gave you earlier made your tongue feel so heavy, your arms and legs felt like 40-pound weights were tied to them. All you could do was let your dad tease you like some jerk.

“Seems like you did… You did so well… I think you deserve a reward, yeah?” He pulled his hand away, causing a small whimper to escape from you. He stared up at you so sweetly, as if you were a princess awakening from a years long slumber. 

Leon leaned down, immediately diving into you. His nose bumped against your clit as he ate you like a starved man at a buffet. His tongue thrust inside of you, lapping at your wetness like an animal. He groaned into your cunt, loving the way you tasted. If he was on death row and got offered his last meal? It would be you.

“‘m close… So close…” You whined, desperately trying to squeeze your legs around his head, still feeling too fuzzy to move a muscle. All you could do was squeeze your eyes shut and move your head, your body feeling too much like it was encased in cement. How were you already so sensitive? It’d barely been 5 minutes, and you were this close? 

The room felt like it was spinning again; all of your nerves felt like they were on fire. Pleasure shot up your spine, exploding in your head like a fireworks display. The word Daddy fell from your soft lips like a mantra. Your mouth could only form the one word, your brain filled with thoughts of him. Your breath hitched in your throat as you came, eyes shooting open and rolling to the back of your head. “S’too much… Too much! No more…”

He sat you on his lap like usual, grabbing a spoonful of whatever mushed-up food was on the pink plate in front of you, bringing it to your mouth while making airplane noises. Your mouth fell open like usual, allowing him to shove the head of the spoon in. He wasn’t a bad cook, no. He was just weird. Weird for making you act like a little girl at your age, weird for turning you into a toy.

You just wanted your old life back, when you had friends and other people to talk to. Acting like a kid wasn’t exactly the most fun thing a girl could do. Though you didn’t necessarily hate some of the attention he gave you. How fucked up is that? Liking the way your own dad touches you? What kind of sick freak acts like- Oh. I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

He frowned at the way you denied the food, the dull look in your eyes. Why couldn't you just be good for him and eat it? Why did you always have to fight him on this? 

The plastic spoon hit the plate, food flying off it onto the table. His hand moved to your face impossibly fast, fingers digging into your cheeks, squeezing them together as he turned you to face him. “What did I say about acting bratty, hm? No treats for disobedient little girls.”

His grip on you was bruising, his nails digging into your skin, sure to leave crescent-shaped marks. The way he stared into your eyes terrified you. Anger hiding behind his blue irises. He was pissed. He was beyond pissed. Why couldn't you just listen?

“I told you not to do this again. Remember what happened last time? Y’wanna do that again? Sure seems like you do…” Your eyes widened as memories of that night flashed through your mind. The bruises he left all over, the red marks on your ass—how you couldn't sit properly for a week! The threat made you curl into yourself on his lap like a small child being yelled at for stealing from the cookie jar.

He released his grip on you, patting your cheek lightly with a sickly grin. Leon pulled down on your chin, opening your mouth enough to shove the spoon in again, making sure you swallowed the food. “Now, there's a good girl… So good for Daddy, yeah?”

He held onto your jaw as you ate, making sure you couldn't refuse him more. What kind of daughter disobeys their dad? Bad ones. What happens to bad daughters? They get punished.

His punishments were cruel, just meant to be pleasurable only to him. Spanking you with his belt, tying you to your bed, taking away your toys. His favorite was fucking you until you passed out! The way your eyes fluttered shut, how you went limp in his arms. God, he loved it. He loved how scared you were of him, the look of pure fear in your eyes was enough jack-off material to last for weeks!

His fingers curled inside of you, squeezing against the spot that made you see stars. Your head was spinning. Every inch of your body was on fire. “Daddy… I can't do any more… Please!!” You squealed, crushing his wrist between your thighs.

Your hands gripped the pink sheets beneath you for dear life, holding on as if you were about to fall off the side of a building. Bliss shot up your spine, filling you with a feeling of delight and pure disgust. All because of your dear, sweet father.

He smirked down at you, the sight of you writhing underneath him sent all the blood to his cock, the pajama pants he was wearing suddenly feeling a little too tight. “That's it… There's my girl… Y’think you're big enough to take me yet? Think you're ready for me, baby?”

Yes, God, yes! You wanted to scream it, let the world know you wanted to get fucked by your dad! But sadly, all you could do was nod. You looked like a stupid bobblehead toy, silently begging him to rail you into the next universe. None of it mattered when you had him, though. 

He chuckled at how enthusiastic you were, leaning forward to place a tender kiss on your lips, tongue rubbing against your bottom one, asking to be let in. You deepened the kiss, arms wrapping tightly around his neck, pulling him in close. His hand left your soaked cunt, wiping itself on his pants before moving to the back of your head. He slotted himself between your legs, rutting against your heat as he made out with you. 

His free hand snuck down to his pants, pushing them and his boxers down just enough to pull his dick out. Leon pulled back from the kiss to look down, smirking at how wet you were. He looked up at you for a moment, a sympathetic look in his blue eyes. “This is gonna hurt for sec… Promise I'll be as gentle as I can…” And with that, he slowly pushed in. His head fell at how wonderful you felt around him, like you were already shaped perfectly for his cock.

“S’okay… I’ve got you.” The stretch absolutely burned. It felt like you were in some medieval torture device. At least the drugs he had you doped up on dulled some of the pain…

He moved his hand back to your clit, thumb moving in small circles, trying to make it at least a little more pleasurable for you. He pushed and pushed, inching in slowly until he was buried to the hilt inside of you. His chest heaved as he caught his breath for a moment, the whole situation now overwhelming him. “I’m gonna move now, ‘kay?”

With a small, comforting smile, he pulled back, shoving into you all at once. His thrusts started slow as you adjusted to his size, trying to be careful with you, terrified to hurt you. How could he live with himself if he hurt you without meaning to? Punishments were one thing… But actually harming you? It’d kill him!

Once he fell into a nice rhythm, all rational thoughts flew out the window. The fear of hurting you was gone, he couldn't care less about it now. It was like a switch flipped inside his head. Your walls just squeezed him too perfectly, clamping down on him like a vice.

It all felt so perfect, like it finally made sense. The disgust that was in you melted away at the feeling of him pounding away at you, just using you for what he wanted. It sent your heart into overdrive, the organ beating against your ribcage. Your head dropped back onto the mountain of pillows behind you, cushioning it while you let your father take advantage of you.

He felt like a teenager again, like he did before he met your mother. She was a good fuck, sure, and he did love her, but it just never felt as good as this. Nothing could ever compare to you, to how you felt around him. The way your velvety walls hugged him so wonderfully made his heart flutter in his chest. 

“Daddy… Daddy! S’too much… Can't do it… I-I can't!” You whined, shaking your head from side to side like you were throwing a tantrum. You felt too sensitive, his touches too much for your body to handle. The coil inside of you felt like it was about to snap, like it was about to explode! You didn't know if you could last much longer, and neither did he. His pace got sloppy the closer he got, hips stuttering inside of you.

He finally stilled as thick, hot spurts of cum coated your walls, painting them in a milky white. You squeezed around him, cunt refusing to let him go. Your orgasm hit you like a wave, legs twitching around his waist, accidentally pulling him in impossibly closer. You whined involuntarily as he pulled out, feeling too empty inside without him. He almost came again at the sight of his cum dripping out of you, staining the sheet below. 

“You okay, baby? Are you hurtin’ anywhere?” He checked over you frantically, looking into your eyes like a madman. All you could do in return was give him a sloppy, fucked out smile. A smile that made all the worry in him dissolve. He crawled off the bed, snaking his arms around you bridal style, carrying you off to the bathroom. “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

[thefourthwifeoftengenuzui]

some headcanons about dating timeskip!Kenma please!!

thank you Anon, I would absolutely love to share some stuff about this beautiful boy~ As always, feel free to send any other requests you got, I’ll be more than happy to share my thoughts~

status: unedited

word count: 1.4k (damn that’s the most I’ve written in a hot minute)

warnings: cursing, pure fluff, mentions of weed, crackfick a little suggestive? Idk man I’m sleepy

wrote this instead of studying for my physics final exam😋

🩵Aged Up Kenma Headcannons🩵~

Ok first off we gotta get the basic facts down. This boy may be sweet as sugar, but he’s also one lazy mother fucker. And For the most part, I’d say that he really doesn’t change much from when he was a kid. The most I can say about him, is he definitely is a lot more confident being in front of people, ( I mean that’s kinda his job now, but bear with me) and has become less awkward around people. Very different from when he first met Hinata, he can actually hold a good and relaxed conversation now. That’s not to say he isn’t introverted anymore, (he definitely still would rather be at home) but he is more confident in himself to be able to actually be able to engage with someone. Is he gonna go out of his way to talk to someone? Hell no, but he can at least handle being approached without overthinking and triggering his anxiety.

This definitely also translates to his relationship with you. You still will have be the one who makes the first move, or at least initiating conversations.

But one things for sure, once he likes you, he loves you. Like wanting to wife you up regardless of gender. And I feel like, (later on in the relationship ofc) if you ever had kids, he would be the best most present dad ever. Like he wouldn’t be a house husband, (his YouTube gig is completely paying for your mortgage) but because the majority of what he does has him, stream for like an hour, go on call for a few minutes, or just edit his videos for a bit, he would be able to make a lot of time for any and all children he has. But that’s way later on in the relationship.

Once he’s comfortable in the relationship with you, I can definitely see him involving you in his content. Not like a whole boyfriend and girlfriend couples channel, but like a once a year “reacting to fucked up shit with my girl” type beat.

And since we’re on the subject of content, <<<<<<<<

Like imagine having the most shitty day possible and you come home to your boyfriend streaming COD or some shit. You just face-plant into the bed next to him and he snaps his head towards you.

”shit baby you good?” he asks as he raises an eyebrow, looking at you concerned as you mumble angrily. He recognizes the nonverbal gestures and just pats his lap with a quick, “c’mere baby,” and hugs you, letting you muzzle your face into his neck away from the camera, and wrapping a fluffy blanket around you, before he kisses you head and say, “gimme ten more minutes to finish this and we’ll order some takeout k?”. He gives you the most sincere and adorable smile ever sending butterflies not only to you, but all his fans watching, as he smiles and goes back to playing like nothing happened, the chat going wilddddddd. (My gay ass heart go brrrrrr)

I know for a fact that somewhere out there in haikyuu internet, there is a corny ass edit of y’all doing that shit, trust. (I need to keep my slang outta here man 😭)

ok, getting off the sidetrack, kenma is still like rlly introverted. Like his ideal date is just sitting at home watching some cheesy studio ghibi movie (His favorite is the boy and the heron, fight me on that, it’s the hill I’m willing to die on.)

If not some cute Disney movie, I also feel like he’d be into like some mystery or like not quite horoscope stuff. Like I feel like he would really be into Wednesday. If he had to watch an actual horror movie, I feel like I’d be like some of the older ones like scream or Nightmare on elm street type shit.

Speaking of scream, I feel like at least once yall would have to do the ghostface couples costume thing. Like I feel like this would just suit him so well. Idk my brains just going feral on it right now. (This was supposed to have a link attached, but it kept fuckin up and I’m to lazy to deal with it so just look it up, the couples version, it’s hot af)

aside from the specific stuff that I know people hate reading, the next thing you gotta know about this version of kenma is he is a TEASE. Like not even like an NSFW type tease. Just like a “he’s an ass but I love him.” Like when he was younger I feel like he was too nervous and flustered to point that kinda stuff out. But now? Man is a menace and a half. The type of dude to be like, “I have no idea how your ass fits in those shorts. Oh no, you’re not taken them off now~” or like the most basic annoying shit like bro fuck off and let me cuddle you in peace without being annoying. Like, he’d be like, “ damn someone’s neady today~ you tryna fuck me in front of everyone?” Like bro stfu I’m just tryna cuddle. Either that or he’d call you clingy for returning the affection he initiated. Like bro, quit being a lil bitch and let me be happy you butt muffin.

Man is putting full pussy into annoying you. He’s the type of guy to call you the most vile, disgusting, cringe ass nicknames, specifically to piss you off. You need him to take out the trash? “Yes my Pookie Wookie McSmoo Moo bear~” *gags while writing this* You’re yelling at him for some stupid thing, “I sorry my sugar booger~.”

Yeah this part is real OOC, and I was gonna write more but I physically cannot bring myself to do it so anyway, his other 3 favorite things to annoy you by calling you is, Cutesie Poopsie, Shnookums, and side piece #2. (Bro I just gave myself the ick)

Beige flags aside, he does have some green ones . For example, he’s a fabulous listener. Like, you just wanna rant and yell about your day? C’mere babes, he already got fluffy blankets, stuffies, and fluffy socks at the ready. You just wanna cry in piece? Looks like his lap has a vacant spot, he can play games and scratch your head at the same time. #bbgtreatment (regardless of gender. If tumblr has taught me anything it’s that nobody is to thug to be bbg, can I get an amen?🙏 )

The more comfortable he is with you, the more he will make jokes, but in the most monotone voice ever. Like you could be ranting to your bestie on the phone like, “I forgot my umbrella at work… yeah I’m soaked,” and you just hear him from his corner calmly shouting “that’s what she said,” not even turning away from his game, as if it was natural to him. It’s always so easy to talk with him, unless it’s about his problems, but we ain’t gon talk about that rn, I’m feeling too fluffy.

There is one thing that I absolutely have to address for this man though. The average female height in my country is 5’4. And Kenma is only 5’6. Chances are, he’s not gonna be towering over you or nothing. Especially if you a tall specimen like me. (AFAB but gender is a construct yolo on those hoes). So chances are, this mf is for a fact, stealing your clothes. No article of clothing is safe. Hoodie? Sorry boo he got cold streaming. T-shirt? None of his were clean. Miniskirt? Onlyfans- He was pulling a Gojo sorry 😋

Tbh I don’t see him ever really having a wedding, or really ever getting married. Too much social interaction and attention on him. Gross. The most I can see him doing is, one night while y’all smoking pot or something, being like “yo wanna get married?” He wants to be with you forever without the government getting involved, but hey, times are tough, and marriage helps with tax returns. So y’all just kinda go to the courthouse, get it done, then fly off to some place to elope.

in all Kenma is just a great loyal guy, who is the biggest pain in your ass, but the biggest cutie patootie this side of the nuthouse.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ hope y’all enjoyed, this was so fun to write, if you liked this and want more content like this make sure to request and check out my other stuff. Love y’all bastards, Thots and Enby Hots🩵

[buryustogether]

fucked

viktor vektor x f!reader

word count: 2k

warnings/tags: pining, age gap, some descriptions of masturbation and sex, blood, street fighting, vik’s down bad

summary: while watching you in a street fight, viktor thinks about what’s holding him back from you.

author’s note: wrote this in class so it sucks

Viktor knew he was fucked the first time he saw you, in tow behind Jackie with a broken arm and a bloody smile that made his stomach clench in the best way possible. He knew he was fucked when you started coming around more often, bringing dinner and gossip from your latest jobs. He knew he was fucked the times you used his gym to train, and he would pretend to work while watching sweat drip down the back of your neck and imagine licking it off with the flat of his tongue.

Yeah, he was fucked.

And it was all on you.

Viktor exhaled a sigh as he locked the clinic door, then tread back down the dim stairwell and back into his cave - at least, that was what you called it. He’d shut up the place early in anticipation of the fight preparing to happen at this moment.

But this wasn’t one of his matches he watched on the network. This was a match taking place in a Kabuki back parking lot, filmed on a cellphone, streamed on an app that forced him to connect his tablet to his television so he could watch it without squinting. This was a winner takes all, loser gets shamed and maybe dies of a brain bleed later kind of fight.

And you were participating in it.

Grabbing the screwdriver he often fiddled with on his mechanical fingers, he dropped into his rolling chair so that he sat backwards and raised his arms to rest on the backrest. Absentmindedly, he began to tinker with his cyber appendages and trained his eyes on the screen.

When you’d come into the clinic last week and told you about this fight, he was wary, to say the least. You would be going up against Simon Shredder - an infamous street fighter known for pulling mantis blades on his opponents when the match wasn’t going his way. You had assured Viktor you’d be fine. You had Jackie there with you.

Viktor had snorted at that. “Like two of you is going to be a match for a half-crazed backstabber and his dozens of fans.”

“You’re always free to come along,” you had told him while you steadied the punching bag. He hadn’t been able to stop himself from glancing at the tops of your sweaty breasts, hidden behind your sports bra. “That is, if you can keep your eyes on the fight.”

Viktor twisted the screwdriver a little too hard and grimaced before shaking his hand out and flexing his fingers.

It was always something with you - wether it was flirtatious comments like that, or giving him a kiss on the cheek in thanks for a repair that lasted a little too long, or making yourself far too comfortable around him to be considered a friend and nothing more. He couldn’t count on his hands the number of times you’d stayed late to watch a fight and propped your feet up in his lap - dangerously close to his crotch, which he’d shifted to try and avoid your foot with. The last thing he needed was you realizing such a simple act could make him hard as granite.

Besides, what would a pretty little thing like you do with an old man like him? You had other young people chasing after you left and right. Like you’d ever think of him like he thought of you.

Shoving tongues down throats until neither of you could breathe. Grinding against hips. Gripping thighs and releasing small, desperate moans…

Fuck, he was a goddamn pervert. He needed to get a serious fucking grip.

Viktor turned his attention back to the screen. An official - more likely the one who arranged the fight and profited from either outcome - was speaking to both you and Shredder in the middle of the lot. Surrounding you pair were a few dozen onlookers, passing bets back and forth and pointing and assessing.

He didn’t focus on any of them. He was staring at you. Flexible trousers and a tank top, low enough to catch glimpses of the tight pink bra wrapped around your torso. Bandages wrapped around your pretty little knuckles, ones he’d wrapped himself time and time again. Eyes that were stern and intelligent, hard and steely and the most beautiful things he’d ever seen.

The official wasn’t audible over the excited chatter of the crowd, but it wasn’t hard to figure out what he was saying. No hits above the waist. No enhancements, cybernetic advancements, or anything of the sort. Fight until mercy or… well, the alternative.

Viktor’s hand had stilled, his attention focused on your opponent. Simon Shredder was a big guy, bigger than Jackie, even. Muscles the width of tires, a height that would trump even the Animals bodyguards, eyes that had been replaced with cheap optical units that made it seem like his pupils were a bloody red. He dwarfed you in every sense of the word.

He could easily kill you if the desire arose within him.

Viktor found a deep, anxious sensation swirling about his belly. He continued with his tinkering. He’d worked with you for hours just for this fight, learning how to use an opponent’s weight and momentum against them. When Jackie was down for it, he’d watch you kids spar, commenting on techniques and offering critique, and it wasn’t uncommon to end the matches with Jackie lying beneath you, arm twisted behind him and tapping for mercy.

Sometimes, after you and Jackie left, he would drag himself to his apartment upstairs and stroke his aching cock to the thought of you pinning him beneath him like you did. He’d think of you rolling your hips against his, knees digging into the floor at his sides, your fingers curled around his jaw to keep his eyes on you while you raised and lowered yourself on him.

Viktor shifted in his seat as, on screen, the official moved to the sidelines. The fight was about to begin. A sense of pride swirled in his chest when you spoke and stuck out your hand for a shake - something he’d taught you himself to do before and after every match.

“To show you’re a good sport,” he had said.

“Good sport?” you’d asked and leaned back against his shoulder. “There’s winners and losers these days, old man. No more participation trophies, I’m afraid.”

And yet, after that piece of advice, you’d began to shake the hand of every opponent you went against.

Viktor snorted with distaste when Shredder glanced at your outstretched hand, then spat at your feet and readied himself into a fighting stance. Rolling your shoulders, you followed suit.

The crowd reared, shouting their praises and insults as you pair readied to fight. Part of him wished he had accepted your invite so he could be there himself to watch as you handed this guy’s ass to him. Or so he could be there to keep you from getting your ribs caved in.

There came the deafening shot of a blank fired into the air - because no one would be able to hear if the official yelled start - and the hollers of excitement multiplied.

You and Shredder slowly circled one another, footwork placed delicately and confidently all at once. You darted forward first. With a small leap to reach his level, you barreled your fist forward - only to miss as he ducked out of your way. You didn’t even have a moment to land before he landed a blow to your upper spine, sending you staggering forward for balance.

Viktor frowned deeply. Strike to the thoracic vertebrae. Discomfort later. Possible seize-ups and pulled muscles.

The crowd reacted with mixed reactions as you spun around, keeping yourself straight. It would take more than that to put you down. Digging your heels into the tarmac, you surged forward and raised your fist -

Only for your hand to be caught just inches from Shredder’s face. People groaned. People cheered. Viktor stilled. Though the feed was rather shaky, he could make out Shredder’s lips moving, his mouth close to your ear as he murmured something to you. Then he twisted your arm, causing you to bend to prevent it from snapping, and delivered a vicious blow to your face.

Viktor’s heart skipped a beat and he leaned forward, lips parted in shock. Your smaller figure collided with the ground hard, and you flailed slightly, struggling to roll onto your hands and knees. The person streaming the fight moved in the crowd to get a better angle. From there, the camera zoomed in on your face.

Blood trickled steadily from your nose. Your left eye was squeezed shut. Scarlet dripped from your lips as you shakily pawed at your mouth.

Viktor’s breath was stuck in his throat. Possible broken nose. Bitten tongue? Black eye? Bad enough he needed to prepare a replacement?

Fuck, he never should have let you do this. Never should have agreed to help you, never should have let you walk out the door this morning and wished you good luck. He should have kept you here, where he could look after you. Keep you safe. Make you feel good. So fucking good you couldn’t stand it.

Shredder stalked across the lot and towered over you, then crouched so that he could be closer to again murmur something to you. The official was already preparing to call it off.

But then it happened - just like it always did.

You pulled through. You surprised them all. Even Viktor, where he sat in his clinic miles away.

As Shredder leaned down to be at your level, you suddenly turned and cracked him across the face with your fist. He fell back onto his ass, stunned by your abrupt blow, and you took the opportunity to straddle his chest and deliver a series of whiplash-inducing strikes to his startled expression. Blood spattered on the tarmac. The crowd erupted.

“That’s it, kid,” Viktor said. “Fuck him up.”

It wasn’t more than thirty seconds of your incessant beating that Shredder tapped the ground blindly - mercy. The official appeared in view, dragged you off the hulking man, and raised your fist to the crowd.

Winner.

They cheered. They booed.

But you stood there, a smug and satisfied smile painted across your bloody expression, basking in the glow. Viktor knew that feeling; when it seemed like the world was at your feet and nothing, fucking nothing, could take it away from you.

He sighed and leaned back slightly, then glanced at the wrought iron doors that led to the stairwell. He was still for a long, long time.

“It’s bad luck to sit on these kinds of things,” Misty had told him one night, when he’d been drunk and let her do an aura cleansing and he’d blurted about his little perverted crush on you. “The fates are going to take this opportunity away from you if you wait too long, you know.”

He’d brushed her off at the time. You’d never go after an old timer like him. But yet… how was he to know if he never asked?

Viktor swore, then brought up his vision screen and called you up. It rang only once before you picked up.

“Hey, Vik!” you greeted on the other end. He watched your face, bloody and bruised, light up with a grin when you saw him. It made his heart melt and his cock ache all at once.

“Hey, kid,” he said and leaned forward. “Great fight tonight. Really. Knew you would pull through.”

“Hah! You don’t have to lie to me, old man. I know it didn’t look good.” Somewhere on the other end, he heard Jackie’s voice. “Sure, Jack. I-“

“Listen, kid.” Viktor paused, took a breath, and let it out. “Feel like swinging by the clinic? I can check out the damage, if you want. And I’ve got a few cold ones with your name on them.”

You smiled. “I’d love to, Vik.”

After you hung up, Viktor caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection of a mirror.

Oh, yeah.

He was so fucked.

[chamotate]

klaus please

YAYAYAY THE DUMB FUCKING NAZI anyway i will not be defending him, but there are obviously reasons for why he became... him..

theres a lot of lore for him so this will probably be very rambly and make little sense, but then again it is also late.

Klaus from a very young age was quite neglected. His mother went out drinking a lot, trying to cope with the death of his father, so Klaus had to grow up fast. And what better way to grow up!!! the goddamn hj!!!! (sarcasm obviously) Obviously at this point it was not a big thing, as it was before moustache man came into power, but Klaus' first lessons were hate. So he grew up hating. A lot.

He would spit at people who he deemed "undesirable" in the streets. Like genuinely. He spat a lot. Obviously at this point, he was punished very frequently for it. Doesn't mean he stopped though.

1933, the moustache man is in power (im terrified of what is and isnt allowed on tumblr), Klaus is OVERJOYED. This boy has read his little book cover to cover and probably knew it by heart. His mother couldn't care less. As long as he was out the house and not bothering her. Klaus had no idea how to care for himself however. He relied on Erik's family to feed him, as at this point he was VERY malnourished.

The HJ was... unfortunately... very good for Klaus. He learnt to stand up for himself, how to fight, etc. But at what cost?

Erik was more left leaning than Klaus. Sure he "believed" what he was told, but that didn't mean he followed it. He would befriend Jews, kiss boys (without Klaus' knowledge of course), but Klaus did know of his "weird sleeptalking". Erik seemed to spill all his secrets this way, but was always able to brush it off as a weird dream, so Klaus thought nothing of it.

Erik had deep feelings for Klaus. Hate, love, lust, who knows? Passion would be the best word. He was passionate, but unsure in what way. Sometimes he would give Klaus small pecks during their hugs, just to see what would happen, if he would ever notice. And when he did... holy shit... it was hell on Earth. Klaus started screaming, hitting, almost beating him to death, before realising... that was his ONLY friend. Would he really kill his only friend over something like that? Surely he was just confused. That must've been it.

Ever since that day, Klaus would try "convert" Erik, back to "normal". Erik gave up, he lost all interest in Klaus, so he said he was cured. Klaus felt like he was the chosen one. He was a narcissist, especially because he was the "ideal". White, blonde, blue-eyed, Aryan.

At the age of 15, he killed for the first time. He saw a young Jewish boy while on a walk with Erik and immediately beat him to the ground, he meant to step on his chest to threaten him and laugh about it later, but he missed and snapped his neck. He's not been the same since. He knew it was right (in his eyes), but he couldn't help but feel guilt. He felt like a fake. He had nightmares every night, replaying the sound of that kid's neck snapping.

1935, 4 years before the war, a poet (Sergei) stumbles upon Klaus studying under a tree. Little did Klaus know he was talking to his worst nightmare. A Russian. Communist. Gay. Jew. He lived on in ignorant bliss, a new friend, he looked funny, he SOUNDED funny, but he was probably just paranoid with propaganda, right?

Meanwhile, he's dating Ida, still paranoid that Erik will try date him or something, he decided he better keep himself taken. He takes her on dates, he even got himself a job to buy her gifts and earn her love. She doesn't feel much for him, but she enjoys the company, so she sticks around.

1939, Klaus is pissed the fuck off. He realises the truth about Sergei from Ida (who Sergei trusted way more than any other German) and he wants to kill him. As soon as possible. The next time Sergei went for a visit to Germany, Klaus grabbed his dagger, ready and eyes burning with hate, before Sergei dropped to his knees infront of him and started crying. LITERALLY CRYING TO A NAZI???? Klaus assumes Sergei is a self hating Jew or something along those lines and decides to tolerate him a little longer, hoping to use him as an ally.

Ida starts to develop stronger feelings for Klaus as she sees him "care" for Sergei. THERE IS A MASSIVE MISUNDERSTANDING HERE. Sergei believes Klaus heard the news about Sergei's loss and was comforting him, Klaus believes Sergei hates his own identity and wants his validation and Ida thinks Klaus has become a better person and they are finally bonding.

Not long after, Klaus and Ida marry.

Sergei is somewhat upset at this BUT THATS A STORY FOR A DIFFERENT TIME!!!! THIS IS ABOUT KLAUS!!!

Klaus finds out a few months later that Sergei was crying about his dead fiance this whole time and goes back to hating him, buuuutttt.... he has other ideas this time. He manipulates Sergei, abuses him, uses him, whatever he feels like. He makes Sergei feel guilt for existing.

1942, Klaus and Ida have their first child Heike(at this point she's like 2 but this is a key date and a key thing), who from FUCKING BIRTH is taught this propaganda. Klaus plans to make his children into his own sort of minions almost.

Sergei, however, whenever he gets the chance, he tries to teach the kid to be a good person. Even though he knows it won't do anything.

Klaus is still a fucking monster. He gets off on the fact that he can make Sergei do anything. Because Sergei knows, one wrong move, the Gestapo will be involved. He's given up on making Sergei "useful" and now just humiliates him and uses him for entertainment. (DUDE FUCKING KYS LEAVE MY BOY ALONE.)

anyway yada yada he continues the same shit. he never gets sent to war bc hes a loser and that makes him feel not valued. (good)

1945. The war is over. Klaus is SOBBING. FULL ON CRYING. His beloved moustache man is gone. He burns any documents that relate him to the regime and hides his uniforms (which he only ever takes out afterwards to see his kids wearing them). He's proven innocent (the ugly bastard) and goes back to indoctrinating his kids (who he now has two of)

He still believes in all the values and tells Ida that their kids need to bring back the glory of Germany. She doesn't fully agree, but she also doesn't understand much politics and lets him do all the political business.

Sergei has cut him off at this point and Klaus is very bitter.

1959, The last time Klaus and Sergei ever meet. Sergei shoots a bullet right through his Nazi skull and leaves. Simple. No witnesses.

:3

that bit would be further explained with Sergei's perspective but from Klaus' lore perspective, there is no clear reason.

most of his lore relies on Sergei + Ida so this was difficult but i accepted the challenge and it was a fun ride

[nyctophilevamp]

Beauty And The Vampire

Genre : Supernatural Au!, Angst, Smut, Blood, Death Pairing : Lee So Hyuk × Black Reader

Summary: Y/N Might Be Civilization's Best Hope

When It Comes To Killing The Creatures That Feed On Humans. Yet They Treat Her As An Outsider. What Happens When Y/N Gets A Big Job Kill The Most Dangerous Vampire Of Them All?

Switches P.O.V Between Reader And LSH

Standing up, I took a sip of water. I just finished sharpening my blade. I'm getting ready to prepare for my biggest mission yet. The one my parents failed to complete.

Kill the Vampire of all vampires, or in other words the King. The king of the creatures humans live in fear because of.

My parents failed to do this when I was 14. 10 years later, I have the chance to avenge them. Even if it gives my life.

I took the job from the wealthiest folk around here. The King supposedly killed their son when he went out in the woods and they want to retaliate. If I'm being completely honest, I don't give a shit. About their son, them, or this town. This town treats me as if I am nothing more than a rodent on the street after my parents died. They just act nice when they need a job done.

"The girl who kills vampires" That's what they call me. They don't know my name and they don't care to know, I'm merely an asset in their lives and they are liabilities in mine. I provide them with the benefit of being safe and then I take money out of their pockets.

To be honest, I'm not avenging my parents either. Hell, I barely know them. They were never around, more focused on the vampire than they were focused on me. I'm doing it to prove to myself that I'm better than them. Better than everyone In this town.

I got the job a week ago and after collecting information for a week today would be the day I move out. Drinking the rest of my water I slip inside my boots and grab my weapons. Strapping them against my body. I walk into the night. The town is empty and silent. Every one scared, something might kill them. They keep garlic above their doors. But that doesn't keep them away not at all. They can't enter your home without permission though. But of course, close-minded humans who refuse to study what's unknown to them wouldn't know that.

Cracking my neck I ran into the forest of trees. Once I reach the river I will be in their territory. Waking over the rocks that act as a pathway in the river I cross over and now I'm in their forest. Their territory.

Hearing some rustling behind me I place my hand on my knife. I don't wanna use all my energy. Need to save it for the big guy. The hair on my left arm raised, indicating the leech was on the left side of me. Before it could grab me I quickly ducked and kneed it in the stomach. Now they might be strong but a human can still fight it and have a possibility of winning. Of course, you would need training, and well I've been training for my whole life.

While the thing was bent over I grabbed him by his hair and kick his knee forward so we both fell to the ground. Seeing his face, ironic it's the family's son. So he wasn't killed but turned and he's still a newborn. Cute.

"Your family misses you, Michael. I'll let them know you love them very much. Rest easy," I said as I put the blade right in the lower area of his neck. He choked on his blood quietly.

Standing up, I wiped my knife on his shirt and continued my journey. Halfway to my destination, 5 vampires stood in my way. Fuck this isn't good. This isn't good at all. But I won't die here not by a long shot.

"The King said he heard a ruckus in the forest. Wasn't expecting someone as sweet-smelling as you," One said looking my body up and down like I was going to be his meal for tonight. I'll be dammed if I let a vampire who looks like he eats cigarettes for breakfast take a drop of blood out of me. Moving quickly I threw my blade straight for his eye. Bullseye. It won't kill him but I don't care.

"You bitch," he started taking the knife out of his eye. Bitch? Funny coming from the thing who eats people.

"The King said don't kill her. He wants to meet with her first," another one spoke while gripping the thing who has blood spilling from his eye.

"Just because we can't kill her doesn't mean we can't beat her ass some," Another one said behind me grabbing my braids and wrapping them around his hand. He yanked my head back and sniffed my neck.

"Fuck she does smell sweet," He said. I'll kill this bastard before he has the chance to ever taste me. Before I knew all five creatures were sending hit after hit towards me. Fighting the best I could until my body gave out. Well, at least I'm not dying. I thought before I passed out.

( The Kings P.O.V)

I heard a commotion in the forest all the way from my throne room. I thought it was a lackey until something sweet hit my nose. Smelled like a fresh set of chocolate chip cookies. Whatever it was I wanted to taste it, and it was coming from the forest. So I sent five randoms to catch it.

(Lackey= Newborn)

To my surprise, they dragged in a beat up brown skin girl. She was still alive. I know that for a fact because I can hear her heart pumping. But I'm sure I said to bring her in unharmed. This is what happens when you send idiots to do a job meant for higher-ups. Looking up at the five men I see most of them with wounds on them and one with a runny eye. Looked like a medium cooked sunny side egg with yolk running out.

"I thought I said bring her in unharmed," I spoke, waiting for an answer. The five dumbasses looked at me as of they lost the ability to use their tongues. They will soon. Looking over at my guards I nodded my head before the one with the running eye body fell down the floor. Watching his head roll away the other five started to bolt for the doors as more guards came for them.

Getting off the throne I walked over to the beauty laying to rest on the ground. I picked her up and headed over to the Chambers. Looking at one of the guards I signaled him to follow me. As we are walking I told him to get the best nurse in the castle and tell them to come to this room. He exited the room as I laid the woman down. She was beautiful, even bloodied and bruised she look breathtaking. She reminded me of my lover a few hundred years ago.

Amoura was her name. She was beautiful and gave me life in my very dead one. She could make anyone laugh and her smile could light up towns. Unfortunately, humans took her away and deemed her a demon for loving me. They kidnapped her and tortured her until she was dead and I couldn't do anything. I've never forgiven myself for that and I never will. I'll never forgive the humans either.

Seeing the nurse walk in I stepped away from the bed and in the dark corner of the room.

"Tend to her wounds if you may. Use magic or go about it the regular way. Please see to it that she can wake the next day," I spoke rhythmically. Ever since the day Amoura passed, I wore a mask and spoke in a way where no one could understand me. Just because I felt as though she would be the only one to see me and understand me. Only a select few of my closest guards have seen my face. I'd like to keep it that way.

"Yes Sire," The nurse spoke in a hurried tone. Her thoughts were loud, she was trying to refrain herself from draining the blood of the woman that lay.

"Try to taste a drop of her blood and your head will be served to your family as their next meal," I threatened hearing her thoughts get louder and louder. I'll rip her head off myself before I let anyone hurt what's mine again. Mine? Yes, she's my prisoner now so she belongs to me.

(Y/N P.O.V)

Opening my eyes, I was met with a white ceiling. I guess I'm in the castle, at least I'm not dead. Sitting up I search for my knife. My plan is to get to the King and go home. I don't have time to be worried about my wounds or the fact that I have no idea where the hell King is. Also, my knife is gone. In fact, all my weapons are, those little bitches.

“I trust you might be looking for this,” A deep voice spoke from the corner of the room, tossing something up and down. Looking over to the corner I saw glowing red eyes. Okay, what the hell. A Vampire with glowing red eyes? The first time I've ever seen that. Should I be scared? No, I can't and I won't be.

“Who are you?” I said standing up. A second later a man with a rose gold mask covering the top half of his face came out of the shadows. He had my knife In his hand. And his presence screamed dark. This must be the King himself.

“My name is Lee Soo Hyuk, but you can refer to me as the King,” he spoke walking closer to me. He was the man I needed to kill. I see why no one ever saw his face because he kept it covered. Looking down I see his hand outstretched. He's handing me my knife. Quickly taking it from him I hold it against his neck. He just gave me the opportunity to kill him and I will. Pushing him back until his back hit the wall he smiled. His fangs on display, hate to admit but they're beautiful.

“Should I be the one having you pinned against the wall? Not that I mind this position though,” he spoke with amusement laced in his tone. It took me a minute to realize what he meant. Taking the blade I pushed it into his neck and he watched the blade go in inch by inch. He put his hand over mine before pulling the blade out. Not even a drop of blood was spilled from his neck.

“This little blade might be able to hurt lackeys and the lower class but it can't hurt me, darling,” he whispered in my ear. Shocked I stepped back, I wasn't prepared for this. If my blade can't kill or even make him bleed. What the hell could? I have to leave here or ill end up dying. Sitting back on the bed in defeat. I gripped the sheets I wanted to cry. I'm worse than my parents, not only did I fail I was also taken by the king. I guess the town was right I'm worthless and good for nothing after all. I felt a hand under my chin and fingers wiping my cheeks. Looking up at the man above me, I realized that even though he was wearing a mask he looked beautiful.

“Don’t cry, darling I'm not going to kill you and no one can hurt you unless I tell them to,” he spoke his voice deep but soothing. I nodded my head almost as if I was in a trance by his words. “Tell me what is your name?” he spoke asking for my name.

“My name is Y/N L/N,” when he heard my name he stepped back and analyzed my face before leaving the room in a hurry. Not knowing what just happen I lay down on the bed to get some sleep. Letting my thoughts drift me to sleep.

(1 Week Later)

It's been a week since I've been in this castle and I've refused every offer that was made to me. I've refused to eat, leave this room or let the maids dress me. I don't trust anyone here, why the hell should I? If it wasn't for their King's orders they would trying to see how I taste. And just because the king ordered them to doesn't mean they won't snap at any moment.

The only thing I've done in this place is take a bath and sleep. The only thing I've taken from them is clothes. Sitting on the bed staring out the window I hear a knock on the door. Before I could say anything a male's voice yelled from outside the door.

“The King is requesting your presence at the dinner table tonight,” he said.

“Tell your King I wouldn't sit with him to eat anything in this wretched place. Even if it kills me,” I said as my head was pounding and my stomach growling from the lack of food. Just suck up your damn pride and sit down with him for a meal. It will not kill you. Or it might, what if he's just trying to fatten me up so I can be juicier? My thoughts were colliding with each other not helping my headache. I decided to just lie down to make the aching go away.

(King P.O.V)

“Sire she deemed she would rather die than sit and eat with you,” the guard I sent out to get Y/N spoke in a scared tone. My jaw clenched upon hearing this. A human can't survive without food and to my understanding, she hasn't eaten in a week. Yet she still refuses my meals. The glass cup in my hand shattered as I stood up and headed over to her chambers with a plate of food in my hand. If she refused to eat I would have to simply force her. Knocking on the room door before stepping in. Her backside was turned to me.

“I thought I told you to tell your King I'm not going to eat,” She said as she turned around her mouth closed at the end of her statement after she saw I was standing there.

“Oh darling you hurt my heart, why are you refusing to eat?” I said as I walked closer to her. She didn't say anything but instead turned around once again. Clenching my jaw I walked in front of her. I hate being ignored and I hate being disobeyed. I grabbed her jaw making her eyes go wide in shock.

“I don't give a shit if you don't wanna eat with me but I will not have you dying in this castle. So open your mouth and eat the food Y/N,” I told her as I shoved a spoon of whatever the hell it is the chef made. Watching her chew and then swallow made me smile.

“Eat the rest, I'm not leaving until it's finished and you've drunk all your water,” I handed her the bowl as I sat down on the couch next to her. Once she was done with half of the bowl and all of the water she slid it over to me. I stood taking the items from her before caressing her face.

“Good girl,” I smiled at her before walking out. She was just going to have to get used to me and this castle because she wasn't leaving. Not after what I discovered. A week ago that night when she first came I took a drop of her blood in a sample tube and sent it to some witches far out west. I had a theory that she was my past lover somehow brought to me again and I knew only the witches could confirm it. This morning they sent a letter back to me. The letter told me that my suspicions were confirmed. She was the lover I lost all those years ago and I would be dammed if I left her run or if I let her get hurt. Not again, not this time. Going back to the dining room I sat at the table and ate my food. Happy that she ate as well. I'll make sure she eats every day if I have to.

(Three Days Later)

I watched her eat every meal prepared for the past few days. Going to her room in the morning. I didn't see her, she wasn't in her bed, bathroom, or closet. I grew concerned and angry, I have strict orders set in place that she isn't to leave this room without my permission. And if she is hurt all the guards in this hall will be fed to demon dogs. I decided to get her food and place it in the room before I go and find her. I walked into the dining room and to my surprise she sat there at the table with a bowl of food in front of her. Shocked and disappointed were the only two things I was feeling. Shocked because she actually sat in the dining room to eat and disappointed because I couldn't sit in the room with her as she ate. Also because I couldn't feed anyone to my pets.

“I see you joined me for breakfast, my love,” I said as I sat on the other side of the table. She just nodded her head and continued to eat. I haven't broken the barrier of her speaking to me but I will soon. Love takes time, I mean I already love her but I'm sure it will take time for her. As we are in silence I looked up to see how vast our distance was 10 chairs on either side separated us but if she felt comfortable with being that far I was fine with it.

(4 Days Later)

(Y/N P.O.V)

Surprisingly I started doing more stuff around the castle. I don't think the King was ever going to let me leave and I don't know what his intentions are. So I might as well have fun in this place while still alive. Here I am sitting in the library reading a book about god knows what. I could never find books entertaining I would rather paint or train. Signing I stood up to return the book to its original place only to drop the book out of my hands. The King sat on the other couch reading a book, when the hell did he get here?

“Are you not enjoying your book?” He asked while still reading his book. Startled I shook my head no.

“I don't exactly enjoy reading. When did you get here?” I questioned him trying to reach the spot I took the book from. Damn it where's the little stool that was here. The hair on the back of my neck raised and I felt him behind me. His hand went above mine grabbing the book and placing it back in its spot.

“A couple minutes after you came in,” he whispered against my neck. I closed my eyes preparing to be bit in the neck. Well, this is it, this is how it ends. I thought before my eyes shot open as he kissed behind my ear down to my shoulder blade. Losing my balance I fell back against him and we both landed on the floor. Before he could say anything I got up and ran over to my room. God that was so embarrassing. Soon as I lay down I heard a knock on the door. Before I could say come in, he walked in and sat on the bed.

“What do you like to do? I can set up some stuff for you so you aren't bored,” he said. Looking over at him I wanted to take the mask right off and see how he looked. The only thing I knew was that his eyes were red and his lips were red. I cleared my throat and look into his eyes.

“I like to paint and kill vampires,” I told him with a smile on my face. He nodded his head before standing and walking out. He does that a lot. Sighing I covered myself and closed my eyes.

It's been two weeks since we've spoken to each other. We've eaten together and sat in the library together. Enjoying the silence together. After I got out of the shower and got dressed there was a knock at the door figuring it was the King I didn't say anything. I was right as he walked in.

“Good Corning darling, if you don't mind would you follow me please,” he spoke to me putting out his hand. I grabbed his hand and we ventured out to the hallway. Walking hand in hand around the castle we came to a stop at a room. I looked at him and he only smiled before pushing the door open.

In the room were multiple canvases and paints with a high stool. The room was beautiful, perfectly set up for someone who liked to paint. I let go of his hand and inspected all the paint with excitement. Looking back over at him, I smiled and walked over to hug him. I don't know why I hugged him. The man I'm supposed to despise, the man who brought horror upon my time. The man who killed my parents. Yet I couldn't help but show my gratitude to him. He's done better and more for me than anyone has in my whole lifetime.

“Thank you, It's beautiful,” I told him letting go of the hug. He smiled at me before leaving the room. Weird.

(Kings P.O.V)

She has been here for almost two months now and I can say she has finally warmed up to me. Instead of me reading in the library she insists that I read in her art room while she paints. She stopped talking about wanting to kill me and hopefully, she stopped thinking about it too. With her, I couldn't read her thoughts like I did with everyone else. It was like she had some sort of mind blocker on. But I don't mind because Amoura was just the same. She stood up and walked over to me. She grabbed the book out of my hand before telling me to stand up. Standing up I followed her and was astonished. In two days she painted me laying against the couch reading. It looked beautiful even if you couldn't see my face it still was.

“You're an amazing painter, my love,” I told her still admiring the piece of art she painted. Smiling at her I took her hand and walked into the hallway.

“It's getting late and a storm is coming. You should get some rest,” I watched as her eyes went wide.

“A storm?” she spoke quietly almost as if she was scared.

“If you're too scared to sleep alone tonight you can always accompany me to my chambers,” I said gently not wanting to sound like I was suggesting anything. Maybe I was but she didn't have to know. To my surprise, she nodded her head. Taking her hand again I walked over to my chambers.

It stormed for 7 nights meaning she slept in the same bed as me for seven nights. When she couldn't sleep we would stay up and have long conversations with each other. Just exchanging information about each other. Through our conversations, she learned the reason I hate humans and I learned the reason she hates vampires. I can't relatively say I felt bad about killing her parents but they killed a school full of children. Yes, they may have been vampires but they were still children and well I had no choice but to murder them. Of course, I told her that her parents were evil.

(Y/N P.O.V)

On the eighth night of the storm, I sat in the Kings bed with him next to me. Looking over at his sleeping frame I came to the conclusion that I had feelings for him. I didn't know if it was love or not but it felt right to put that title behind it. I loved the King and I've never seen his face. Reaching my hands over to his face, I put my hands on each side of the mask and started to lift it. Before it could completely come off his eyes opened and he grabbed my wrist tight enough to break it. When he saw it was me he quickly let my wrist go and sat up.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have tried to take it off,” I said rubbing my wrist, hoping he wasn't too mad.

“It's fine, did I hurt you?” he asked concern laced in his tone. I smiled at him before shaking my head no. I don't think he realized but the mask slipped off of his face. Coming closer to him I put my hand on his cheek as he stared into my eyes.

“You look very young. How old are you?” I asked still caressing his face.

“I am 28 years old,” he told me leaning into my touch. I know that's the age he's been stuck in but I wonder for how long.

“How long have you been 28?”

“For 457 years darling,” He smiled at me. He's so beautiful, I wonder why he hid his face from the world. Slowly I leaned into him before placing my lips on his. His lips felt soft and plush, like a pillow. It felt so right just to kiss him. He gripped my waist pulling me into his lap. I ground my hips down on him, I don't know what came over me but I wanted him now. Pulling away from the kiss I start kissing his neck while moving my hips back and forth slowly against him. After kissing his neck I was about to suck on it until he pulled me off of him.

“Your cute my love but we can't,” he said. We can't? Why the hell not?

“Oh, may I ask why?” I said not trying to sound too desperate but the truth is I'm desperate as fuck.

“I don't want to hurt you,” he said standing up and grabbing his mask. Hurt me? He couldn't hurt me and even if he did I'm the one asking for it. Before he could reach the door I grabbed his wrist.

“I want you to hurt me,” I told him as he looked me up and down before swallowing. “Please” I let out hoping at least that would convince him. He threw his mask to the chair and started to unbutton his shirt. Taking off his shirt he pulled my jaw up for a kiss.

“Don't be mad at me if I'm too rough. Please,” he told me in between kisses. I smiled at him before laying back on the bed feeling him climb on top of me.

“Grip the headboard for support,” he said before moving my panties to the side and sticking two fingers in me. Throwing my head back as his long fingers curled inside of me hitting a certain spot. When he realized he hit a good spot he kept going curling his fingers while moving them at a fast pace. He came up to my fave before kissing me and moving down to lick my neck. He sucked my neck leaving a bruise. When he kissed me again my legs shook around his hand and I let out a loud moan. He took his fingers out before leaving them in my mouth, making me suck them clean.

He pulled his pants down and let his dick spring free before lining it up with my entrance. Goodness I hope this doesn't hurt, I thought to myself.

He laced his fingers with mine before pushing all the way in. He stayed there while he kissed my neck.

“Bite me,” I said and he looked at me like I was insane. “Please just do it,” I continued, I know he won't hurt me. I trust him. He nodded his head before he started to move in at a slow but rough place. A piercing pain shot through my neck as he started to drink from me. It hurt at first but with the mix of him fucking into me hard it turned into pleasure and all I could do was take it.

“Soo-hyuk,” I moaned out. He stopped for a second pulling away from my neck and smiling. I called him by his first name for once. He kissed my cheek before his hand gripped the bed while the other wrapped my thigh around his waist. He went harder and faster making the headboard hit the wall. I pulled his face down kissing his bloody lips.

“You feel so good baby,” he said moaning in my ear. Just hearing him moan made me cum. When he finally came I had just finished coming for the third time. He pulled himself out of me and laid against my chest. Sighing in contentment I closed my eyes and let sleep take over.

In the morning I stayed in the garden while he slept. This is the longest I've ever seen him sleep. While picking out flowers an unsettling feeling happened in my stomach. Something bad was going to happen today. I just knew it deciding it was best to go inside I went to my art room and painted. I felt someone wrap their arms around my waist and then kiss my neck. Laughing I turned around and kissed him back.

“Hi,” he smiled at me his fangs showing.

“Hi,” I said back before a guard came barging into the room. He quickly turned his face before speaking.

“You didn't have permission to come in here. So it better be an emergency,” he said anger evident in his tone. The guard look scared but he stood his ground.

“I'm sorry for the intrusion Sire, but we're under attack. The whole town is being lit on fire by humans,” he said making my heart drop. The humans are trying to kill everyone in this town. Fire can be used to harm them.

“I can talk to them. I can calm them down and stop this.” I told making him turn his face towards me. He shook his head no before turning towards the guard.

“Get the best man and kill them all. I don't care about a fire kill them and feed.” He spoke starting at the guard. The guard stared at his face before nodding and running off. He looked back at me and smiled.

“Go to my chambers and stay there. Don't come out until I get you,” he said pulling away from me and walking off. Standing up I look down the halls to see it empty of any guards. I went over to his room and into his closet and grabbed my best knives before going straight for the window. I jumped out and followed where I heard the most ruckus. Seeing at least twenty townspeople. They look over at me in shock.

“She's alive,” one said beaming with joy. They were happy to see me? Did they do this for me? There was no way and even if it wasn't right so I need to stop them.

“Yes I'm alive but what are you doing? You're setting a town on fire,” I said getting closer to them. One yelled back at me.

“This isn't a town this is a monster's paradise and we're here to burn down to the ground,” I shook my head no.

“No this is a place where beings live. There are children here,” I said trying to convince them to stop. They weren't listening only spewing hateful words about this place and the vampires. Before one pointed something out.

“What is that on your neck girl?” the man spoke realizing it was the man who hired me to kill the king I stepped back. Another one yelled

“She is sleeping with a vampire. KILL HER,” she shouted. When they started coming towards me I pulled out my knives ready to defend myself and this town. They all came charging at me with spears and pitchforks. I was able to kill at least three before I was tackled to the ground and attacked by the remaining 17. After seven minutes the group ran away from me. I lay there in my blood with a sphere in my stomach and blood pooling out of me. This is how it ends for me, I thought as I closed my eyes.

(Soo-Hyuks P.O.V)

I smelled the scent of baked cookies again as I drained this human of its blood. The only person with that scent would be my love. Y/N. Looking at my men I tell them to handle the rest of the humans while I tracked her scent. A group of humans ran past me some bloody and some just with blood on them. When the last one ran past me I smelt the chocolatey scent on her and gripped her shoulder so tight that it broke. She screamed causing the group ahead of her to stop and turn around. Before they could get to me I ran with her. Dragging her by her broken shoulder.

“Where is she?” I said venom laced in my tone. Knowing she had some idea where Y/N was.

“She's dead. Laying in her own blood for loving a vampire,” she said throwing her back and laughing. Before she could laugh anymore I ripped her jaw apart. All I saw was red and every human was going to feel my pain if my lover had died again. Quickly running over to the scent I saw her with a sphere in her stomach. Rushing to her side I shook her. Her eyes slowly lulled open and she smiled at me. How can she be smiling right now?

“Hi,” she said her voice hoarse.

“Baby please don't talk. Okay? You're going to be okay. I'll save you this time,” I cried out to her. Tears falling down my face, I removed the mask. She gently put her bloody hand to my face before speaking again.

“I Love You Soo-Hyuk,” she spoke again before her arm fell against the ground. I shook her again and again but I got no response. I failed again. She died again because of me and these humans. Why do I keep failing? Taking the sphere out of her body I kissed her neck and bit down on her neck making sure my venom went inside her. It was too late but it would never hurt to try. I pulled away still not getting a response, I stood up and picked her body up before walking over to the commotion. I looked between my guards and the humans. Stop I said too quietly.

“STOP,” I yelled as my body shook with anger. Everyone stopped to look at me, they started at me as if I was a golden item on display. I smiled at them tears still flowing down my face. I place one last kiss on Y/N's mouth before looking back at my guards.

“Don't kill them, just capture them and lock them up in a cell,” I turned away from them walking back to the castle. Once inside the castle, I went up to the top floor. There is one single room on the top floor. It has a clear glass coffin in it that I kept after Amoura died. Placing Y/Ns body in the casket I called two maids to change her into a black dress and to clean up the blood on her dead body. Letting them enter the room I walked away with my head down in shame.

I've failed my lover, I've failed my people, I've failed myself. I don't have the right to even call myself a king or let alone be glorified as one.

(Two Months Later)

The town was restored and expanded through the other side of the forest. There were still some humans on the other side but they were all turned. As for the human that raided the town two months ago. They have been getting tortured for one day each week. I didn't plan to kill them fast. They didn't deserve that satisfaction and I didn't plan to feed off them. Their blood smells like acid I’d rather not.

Here I am sitting in my throne room going through the same cycle I've been going through my entire life. Closing my eyes I slumped against the chair. Before my eyes shot open.

The throne room doors flew open and the guards that were standing there flew against the wall bones breaking upon impact. Waiting for someone to come through the doors I stood up as five of my men stood in front of me.

We all heard laughing as all the candles and lights went off in the room. I felt a hand grab my mask and before I could react they cracked it into two pieces. Who the hell was this and how are they faster than me? I felt my body being thrown back with much force and I'm thrown all the way back onto my throne seat. Then someone placed themselves on my lap and that's when I saw her.

Eyes glowing red and curly black hair up into an afro.

“Y/N?” I spoke unsure of the woman that sat on me. Her red eyes glowed as she smiled showing her fangs.

“You never said you loved me back,” she spoke against my ear. And I smiled, I saved her. I didn't fail. Gripping her hair I pull her into a long-awaited kiss.

“I Love You Y/N,” I told her as she smiled at me.

The End

[foolsocracy]

As the one who can't stop sending you long-winded overly poetic asks, I personally love your long responses back. STORIES WITH THEMES, SYMBOLISMS EVEN!! WHEN THE ANALYSIS?? Y'KNOW?

I'll read over the post again a bit later and try to come up with a more thoughtful response, but, ough. So ready to die honorably, just like everyone else, you've already dug your grave beside your family's. And then, by your joints and limbs, you're unearthed again. Some poor, bedraggled marrionette. Fuck.

HAHA thank you! THE THEMES.. THE MOTIFS.. its all right there and free for the picking! And ive got all your other asks in my inbox and i want to answer them as timely as possible, i do, but alas---i'm slow. thanks for ur patience <3

and im jumping on this too. we're like a tag team, you and i.

being put to rest (however violently) and being pulled back into being alive has to be horrific for anyone. But because im the #1 jewish peter parker fan, i kinda want to comment on this with a bit of a jewish lens as well.

In Judaism, there isn't really a heaven/hell/etc. It's described as a type of oblivion that is as far from heaven as possible. The dead exist there without knowledge or feeling. There is a total disconnect and inability to communicate with god. I wanted to mention this because imagine the surprise of not being disconnected from god at death, but instead being forcibly man-handled into resurrection. Peter very well could have thought he'd be free of his curse once he died. Sorry pete but life has more in store for you.

In jewish tradition, it is customary for someone to be buried within 24 hours of dying. Today, this concept is translated to 'as soon as possible' and is a bit more lenient. It is the family's job to bury their dead, but if they are unable to do so it is up for the community to take up the task. There are no exceptions to the burial rule; "even criminals who have been put to death, the unclaimed slain, suicides, and strangers to the community" would be buried. It is a tradition created from compassion. "To be denied burial was the most humiliating indignity that could be inflicted on the deceased, for it meant 'to become food for beasts of prey.'" Prior to burial, it is also customary to have someone, typically family, accompany the body of the deceased out of respect, as they are seen as defenseless, and as a comfort to the soul that rests within it.

I wonder if he would have ever thought about that aspect of dying alone. Was there any kind of debate, whether it'd be worth it to die as Peter Parker, a boy with a name to his face and an aunt at home, or to die as The Spider-Man, fighting for whats right, but a stranger to everyone, alone? And what of when he wakes up again, after death, knowing he was unburied, left to rot. If that isn't a signifier of just how alone he is, I don't know what is.

There are two ways he could have been honored, i suppose. The traditional sense, through his family's and community's customs. Being laid to rest beneath the ground with others at his side. Or on the streets of the city, alone but dying for everything his family believed in. Finding solace in following in their footsteps. He gets neither, of course.

[denimbex1986]

'Every great actor understands how to harness the tools they've been given. For Christopher Walken, it's his pinball-esque grasp of cadence. For Jack Nicholson, it's the Play-Doh structure of his face. Then there's Cillian Murphy. Some may say it's the eyes, those piercing almost-translucent blue orbs that help him oscillate from warm to terrifying in a split second. But no, sorry, they're wrong. Nothing but love to those pearly peepers, but the real magic of Murphy's face is that razor-sharp set of blades hugging the side of his head.

Those cheekbones, so sharp you could probably run his face up a bottle of champagne and the cork would fly off. So cutting you could make sushi with them. You would probably have to baby-proof his face for fear of toddlers happening across those dangerous corners. But beyond just how they look (very good), Murphy understands the power they have in his performances. They can transform him from menacing to ghoulish to inviting, sometimes in the space of one role. With Oppenheimer on the horizon, we've ranked Murphy's cheekbone-iest roles to date.

6. Batman Begins (2008)

As the Kens of Barbie are defined by their jobs, the style and mood of a movie will dictate how the Cillian Murphy cheekbones operate on screen: in Oppenheimer, they remind us of the deathly, apocalyptic stakes of the A-bomb. In 28 Days Later, they make everything a little more scary. In Red Eye, they’re serving. Which brings us to Batman Begins, in which Murphy portrays the DC series’ central purveyor of spook, Jonathan Crane, AKA the Scarecrow, ooooh. It’s most appropriate, then, that the tautness of Murphy’s face gives him a hot, skeletal allure, which is also kinda spooky. He can dose us with a demonic hallucinogen any day. JK

5. Red Eye (2005)

We're about to say something Cillian Murphy will, at worst, hate, or, at best, be utterly baffled by thanks to his refusal to exist in the age of the internet. But those cheekbones? In the 2005 Wes Craven underrated film Red Eye? They're serving cunt. Slicey McGee's second consecutive villain role after Batman Begins traded the burlap sack for an eye mask in this thriller where he plays a seemingly nice hot man who turns out to be a terrorist. Modern dating, amirite? The cheekbones do some transformative heavy lifting in this, getting more hollow the more menacing he needs to be. He's essentially Wolverine but the retractable knives are on his face. And, just in case it needed to be confirmed, yes, the cheekbones still hold up under airplane bathroom lighting. The jammy sod. LF

4. Sunshine (2007)

After 28 Days Later, Danny Boyle's second Murphy team-up upped the ante in a fashion any good sequel should: they took the cheekbones all the way to space. If we learned anything about those staggering face cliffs over the course of Murphy’s early career, it’s that they always, always deserve the best lighting possible. Nay, they demand it. Which is presumably why Boyle took Murphy to the surface of a dying star, because fuck a ring light when you’ve got cheeks like these. Chris Nolan would essentially do the same years later with Oppenheimer, though substituting the sun for an atomic explosion. Do NOT turn down the brightness. JK

3. Peaky Blinders (2013-2022)

Has the term peaky blinders been used as slang for cheekbones yet? If not, it should. Think about it, “That boy Cillian's got a cracking set of peaky blinders on him”. It just works. Murphy's almost decade-long tenure as gang leader Tommy Shelby did so much for the landscape of men's fashion – You could barely walk down the street without seeing at least a handful of lads sporting his drastic undercut. And while we're not here to yuck anyone's yum, the real secret sauce of that haircut that so many failed to recognise is that it was following the severe line of his 90-degree, razor-sharp cheekbones. They were simply two parallel lines fighting for supremacy on one man's head, but we know who came out on top in the end. LF

2. 28 Days Later (2002)

Like Watergate, the Moon landing and 9/11, most people can remember where they were when they first saw 28 Days Later, because it was the day that Danny Boyle introduced the Cillibones to the world. Lives were changed, the planet shook, something shifted: here was the most archetypal Man to Be Shot in Close-Up ever seen on screen, unleashing upon the world a cheekbone fever stronger and all the more unhinged than a rage-inducing virus. People literally died. Good movie, too. JK

Oppenheimer (2023)

Christopher Nolan loves Cillian Murphy's face so much he shoots it in pretty much every way he can in Oppenheimer – Colour, black and white, extremely close-up, lit by the fire of 100 tons of plutonium. Not to mention the IMAX cameras! The man just wants to see his guy look glorious on the biggest screen possible, and the result is blinding. Hand us the welder's glass, Oppy, we're about to lose our retinas here. Murphy shed weight to play the emaciated father of the atomic bomb, which give the Cillibones™ a chance to pop even more than usual. He ends up looking like a besuited Grim Reaper which, for someone who utters the iconic phrase “I am become death, destroyer of worlds”, tracks. When the time comes for Murphy to inevitably win an Oscar for this role, we hope there's enough room on the plaque to engrave a co-winner in the shape of his own bone structure. LF'

[the-unseen1]

3. Love will change the world

The Seeker and the mysterious Stranger (Part 3 of 7)

3. Love will change the world

“Listen man, I want to be honest with you,” the Seeker says to the mysterious stranger. Both are sitting on their bench, deep in a forest.

“You know... I am tired... Utterly exhausted. Everyday, is a day of struggle. After every achievement, reality kicks in and I am crushed by Life. One challenge after the other. So many problems to fix, so many battles to win. Everything just seems... so shallow... so meaningless.

First you go to school, then perhaps higher education, get a job, get married, raise your children, climb the career ladder, then your children move out, then retirement and after couple of years you die lonely in a nursery home... And I ask myself, is that all that there is to Life? A constant struggle to fit in with the expectations of society? Why do I still get out of bed everyday?

Life has let me down, humanity has let me down. Whenever I read the news, I just get sad, angry or disgusted. Everyone knows how fucked up the world is... We are all aware of what's going on. All these terrible things happening... And I am just tired with it, that's all. Disappointed with life itself. And Yet, all I ever wanted is to be happy...”

The mysterious stranger looks at the Seeker with empathetic eyes.

“Let me ask you Seeker, if you had the power to change the world, what kind of world would you envision?”

“I don't know,” answers the Seeker, yawning. “Perhaps a world, that is peaceful, without any wars. Perhaps a world, free of environmental pollution. A world free of prejudices and biases of any kind. A world of joy and laughter. A world of bliss. A world of Freedom and unity. Where we share our food, instead of fighting over oil. I just want a world, where I can be myself without being judged or taken advantage of. A world, that allows me to be happy.”

“Let me tell you a secret,” the mysterious stranger grins. “Everyone dreams of such a world. Doesn't matter where they live, doesn't matter what they do. On the deepest level, this is what all of us actually want. Even those who are fully consumed by hatred... Even they long deep within, for such a world.”

The Seeker scratches their forehead:

“But... If everyone supposedly dreams of such a society, then explain to me, why we are unable to change it.”

“That is a very long story,” the mysterious stranger smirks.

“I will tell it to you, when you visit my hut. But for a short answer: We don't change the world because we don't believe, that we can. We think it's impossible... Because this is all we ever knew. But what if I tell you, that there is a way? What if I tell you, that it is in fact possible. Close your eyes and imagine it. Can you see it? A world, where people are dancing on the street, singing a song of liberation. A world, where old enemies drink together as friends. Can you hear the song, that resounds deep within the heart of every human being? Can you feel it? The wind of change blowing into your face.”

The Seeker blows some air from their nose. “Tss... And how do you suppose, we achieve this? Through a revolution? We all know how well this worked out in the past... Or do you propose a reformation, a couple of social programs... You think, this will change the world?”

The mysterious stranger burst out in laughter:

“Certainly, this won't change anything. You can't fight violence with violence. You can't fight separation through further separation. No, you can't change the world through any ideologies or political action.

Now what is it in ourselves, that is needed most in these times? What is it, that can wipe away all of our tears, all of our suffering, our anguish and our hate... What is it, that can break the cycle of destruction? What is it, that can free us from the prison, that we ourselves have created?

The answer, my friend, is LOVE. LOVE will change this world. LOVE is a force that cannot be stopped. All shadows vanish, when you shine the light of love on it. You can't grasp it, it is neither yours or mine. LOVE is there for everyone and anyone. ”

“Love?!” The Seeker asks in disbelief. “This is like the most stereotypical answer you can give. How should love itself transform the world?”

“Well,” admits the mysterious stranger. “It's not that simple. You see, throughout the Ages, the meaning behind the word 'Love' was corrupted. Wrongly defined by many. We have lost it a long time ago. I say, it's about time, that we find it again. Love in its purest form. Once you have found it, you will understand. And you will see the power in it. You will see, the ripples that it sends out, from person to person.”

The Seeker shakes their head, laughing. “You are spouting nonsense. I have never before heard such bullshit in my life. It won't make any difference if a single person changes. The world will remain fucked up.”

The face of the mysterious stranger lights up in excitement:

“Don't you see it, my friend? Your influence on the collective is so much greater, than you can even imagine. Your thoughts, emotions, words and actions affect your entire sphere of influence, which is interconnected with the rest of the world. One light flaring up can suffice, to illuminate an entire room. LOVE may be hard to find, hard to see, as we are all so caught up in our prisons and illusions. But it just needs one person, to find true, unconditional Love... If one person changes their outlook on life; this will reflect on the collective consciousness. Change yourself and you change the world. For you are the world and the world is you.”

“Utter bullshit,” the Seeker spouts.

“If I behave compassionate, someone else will take advantage of me. If I don't take what I want, someone else will take it. If I show weakness, I will lose. So why should I give up my sense of self, if this leads to regrets? Even if I were to 'transform' myself, there is always someone out there to hurt me. I have been hurt enough in my life to know, what humans are capable of.”

“Please tell me, dear Seeker,” the mysterious stranger asks in a serious tone. “Why are you so afraid of love?”

TO BE CONTINUED

Find previous post here:

[rabbit-is-wise]

you just unlocked a beast in me dude omfg. so the music video DEFINITELY fits, like the bridge of nico & the niners beat for beat describes the music video. but wait, there’s more!

it was released in the transitional period between blurryface and trench (roughly a year before the hiatus began), and tyler wears a fucking jumpsuit in it, and like. occam’s razor, or whatever. the jumpsuit is orange, obviously the in between color of red (blurryface) and yellow (trench). and that could be entirely coincidental, i’ll admit, but the yellow lighting surrounding josh throughout and during the concert, and the yellow jacket tyler wears cannot possibly be coincidence. like that would be more insane than any of the lore itself i think.

we KNOW clancy had already tried escaping multiple times by the point of hds/jumpsuit, and in “i am clancy” he says he tricked nico into taking him outside of dema, as well as mentioning that his music/story became known in the city, which is what prompted the bishops to do the whole sai prison/propaganda thing. my interpretation of this is that they had imprisoned him after a previous escape attempt, but clancy allowed this to happen (as in, didn’t put up a huge fight) bc he had a different plan: start a prison riot, generally be a fucking thorn in their sides, and cause the bishops to take him outside themSELVES. at which point he blows up the car, and hds/jumpsuit ensues. (i also think torch was guiding him during this, but that’s like a whole other thing)

beyond just the video, though, its continued inclusion in setlists and the livestream at this point feels important; like i know it’s one of their biggest songs but it’s not the same as like, stressed out or ride. tyler said around the release of sai that it was hard to tell the story without the live shows and fan interactions, which is how and why we know certain imagery has lore implications, while not progressing the story itself.

i think the lyrics discuss a darker part of the reality in dema. the glimpses at day to day life we get are few and far between, but are mostly centered on the glorious gone, or the “quiet hum of wonder” that clancy notices among citizens, beneath the outward appearance. we know on a surface level, dema is very heavily structured and routine based, with assigned jobs meant to keep people busy and isolated. there are strict rules, enforcement varying based on district, and overall it’s a miserable place. i’ve always gotten another, more subtle vibe, though—one never shown, but present in the lyrics and i’ve also not seen talked about before (but i could easily have missed it! in fact, if you have seen this talked about please point me in that direction im dying to see other perspectives). this idea is that of drug use as a form of self medication, and even provided by the bishops themselves.

there are references to drug use throughout sai especially, but my biggest example is “with the bells and the whistles scaled back/like an isolated track/he feels trapped when he’s not inebriated/fair to say he’s fairly sedated most days of the week/he might’ve made it if he lived on a different street” from redecorate. mulberry street is also important to my point, specifically the lyrics “ain’t no sunny skies/til you finally realize/that everybody relies on synthetic highs/they find someone to prescribe” and “keep your pills, save your breath/and don’t ever forget.” now, i easily could be taking these WAY too literally, but given how easily addiction can fit into the themes, just walk with me on it for a minute.

i think heathens discusses this aspect of dema life—citizens are taught isolation, and with that comes resistance to newcomers and a sour relationship with those around you. the “friends” in the song are not friends at all, simply peers and people the singer (clancy most likely, but that’s a bit more open) knows and possibly grew up with. it’s an abusive environment, to say the least. their brains are “hand grenades,” even if there isn’t active violence occuring. they also have “rooms of people that they loved one day, docked away”—another thing we know about vialism and dema is that while it encourages isolation to urge citizens toward self destruction, they also want you to affect people as you go out. there are still people that you’ve loved or that have loved you—it’s inevitable as a human being, even if you “dock” them away. (or lock, i can hear both but the internet tells me it’s dock.) clancy also says “why’d you come? you knew you should have stayed/i tried to warn you just to stay away.” as well as saying trench is a world HE created in multiple songs, in “levitate,” he says “danger in the fabric of this thing i made/i probably shouldn’t show you but it’s way too late.” clancy has tried warning us, or whoever he’s speaking to, to stay away and out of the city, but we (or they) are here anyway, and have now joined the population of people on the path of self destruction.

my qualifications for having this opinion are being a fan since like 2019, hyperfixating HARD at the time and consuming theory videos, hyperfixating hard AGAIN this past month or so, and devoting most of the past 3 weeks to breaking down the lore and analyzing song lyrics in the context of the story (like i have a whole autism project documenting it. i had to use it for reference several times while writing this).

but i acknowledge that the “heathens” video is not in the official lore playlist, nor was it referenced in “i am clancy.” at the end of the day this is my opinion and personal interpretation. if you read this far thank you, you’re literally insane and i appreciate that, and godspeed to you.

Good afternoon, Skeleton Clique.

Fun question bc I'm curious about what everyone thinks, since I have seen both sides of this.

If yes, tell me why! Rb this & explain your answer. If no- same as yes, tell me why.

There are NO wrong answers!! I have my own opinion, which I'll share after this poll ends. Have fun c:

Do y'all think Heathens fits into the lore? If yes, why? If no, why?

Please don't fight or argue; there literally isn't a wrong or right answer.

[lightwing-s]

𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐬 | 𝐭. 𝐝.

pairing: tim drake x female!reader warnings: some swearing, canon usual violence, needles word count: 2,6k summary: nobody in their sane mind goes out to a park in gotham at fucking midnight, nobody except you.

a/n: so, I'm not used to writing for tim, so I hope this comes out okay for my tim girlies and that I do him any justice ^^ also, if anyone is interested in the playlist mentioned, you can check it out here and listen to it while reading this piece.

⌜masterlist⌟ ⌜requests⌟

The night was a mess. Break ins, shooting, explosions, man-bats running around, and it was only midnight. Tim was already exhausted by that point, but there was still work to be done.

Bruce had members of the family scattered around town to get each and every single one of their problems tackled as quickly as possible. Thus, Tim was now chasing down a small group of man-bats that escaped from the attack on the financial district of Gotham and were now heading up towards the East End.

He struggled to keep them out of the crowded areas. It was friday night, so there were extra people out on the streets even with all the chaos going on around town. Some people just didn’t care. So, doing as best as he could, he managed to guide the creatures through a dark alley and send them to a probably empty park, a place where he could fight them without risking anybody’s safety along the way.

Far from defeating evil monsters, you, on the other hand, had great plans for you Friday night: laying in bed and watching silly 2000s rom coms with your roommate and best friend. Having to overstay at work once again, the only thing between you and your bed right now was a five kilometer walk through the streets and a dark park that would have scared you if you did not take this route every night of the week. Guess you’re used to it.

Putting on your headphones and setting the volume to the max, your mind shut off from your surroundings and allowed you to walk the path in peace. Chumbawama’s Tubthumping was playing loud in your ears as you dance-walked your way home. 

Music had that power over you. The power to take your mind away from anything. Every time you had an anxiety attack, or when things just started getting complicated in life, be it with school, work or your family, hiding behind a beat was your favorite solution to send the worries away. That’s why, the day you first walked your path home from your new job, playing your favorite childhood movie soundtrack, HSM, and singing it word by word, you managed to get home without crumbling to anxiety. So, it became your ritual, and like that you ended your week nights.

Behind you on your walk, though, things were not so simple.

Fighting off the man-bats with a single syringe of the antidote was not a clever idea, but it would have to do. At least, he only had three more to fight. With his grappling gun, he aimed at one of their wings, hitting it at first try and pulling it down with much strength. Now, standing on top of it, he stapled its wings down while worrying about the two others who were now giving him their undisputed attention. Fending them off with, basically, one hand, he turned to the trapped one and injected five milliliters of the solution, seeing it agonize in pain, but in no time it was back to being human.

One of the other two, without patience, grabbed at the arm he held the syringe, almost managing to make Tim drop it, but he was quick to change hands and, with his free one, injected it on the leg, making it fall from the sky immediately, carrying him along the way. He fell with a thud, already feeling the pain streaming from his shoulder. Laying there on the floor, he tried to catch his breath, but there was no time for rest. He needed to get the last one.

Stooding up, Tim looked at the syringe still safe in his hand, telling him there was around ten milliliters left of the antidote, enough to knock it down. However, looking up in search of the last survivor, he couldn’t find it anywhere. Where had it gone to? The man-bats were a boisterous bunch, screeching all the time and with heavy wings that announced their incoming from a mile radius. So how did this one escape without Tim noticing?

Being alone in the park, a silence soon took over. But that was short lived. In his search for the damned creature, Tim found out he wasn’t as alone in the park as he thought. 

Just further away from him, bouncing its heads and skipping down the stone road, was a girl. Headphones on, she didn’t seem to notice the commotion going on behind her, and for some reason, that had Tim infuriated. People’s carelessness these days were doing that to him, as if they acted like they really wanted to die. What the fuck!

Then, that’s when he found it. Bright red eyes hiding inside a bush right in front where the girl was walking through, ready to catch flight in her direction. Tim’s legs were already burning, but the way he sped up and ran to try and stop the thing from doing whatever it was in its mind, made the sensation go away with the built up adrenaline. He reached the monster before it could move too close, jumping at its back, grabbing it and dropping to the floor. Tim had his arm locked on its neck, giving it a rear naked choke, taking its breath slowly and making it lose its strength. Now, with ease, he inserted the syringe on its neck, injecting all that was left of the antidote. 

“Every time that I get the feeling. You give me something to believe in. Every time that I got you near me…” he listened to the words of Atomic Kitten coming out of her mouth, while he waited for the effects of the antidote to show up.

Were they fucking singing? Tim thought, incredulous. How on Earth did they not hear them fighting RIGHT. BEHIND. HER BACK?   

The man-bat’s body started quivering, and soon his bat claws were replaced with human fingers and, like a real sized doll, fell onto Tim’s body like jelly. Releasing his arm from its neck and bending sideways to let the man drop beside him, Tim finally could take a break. There on the ground, he pretended to not feel any pain, or any burn, and allowed himself a few moments of rest. But the sound of the steps wouldn’t let him.

Getting up on his knees, Tim took a moment to catch his breath before angrily staring at the person still unbothered walking away from him. 

You didn’t need much to get lost in the music, easily accomplishing it within a few seconds of any of your favorite songs. In those few seconds, everything around you seemed to disappear little by little, as you soon immersed yourself into a dream world, much like a music video, and all that was around you could not be listened to. But when an angry looking boy wearing a costume you’d easily recognize under a normal state of mind, jumps in front of you, it’s kind of hard to ignore.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me that you didn’t hear a single thing going on behind you!” he screamed at you, frustration apparent in each word. 

Startled, you could only reply with a scream, not recognizing Gotham's vigilante, and your favorite of all of them. You tried to run, but tripping on your own legs, you fell to the ground on your butt, loud music still blasting through your headphones but they now laid on your lap.

When he realized what he had done, he walked to you and extended his hand for you to grab, and with ease he lift you up from where you were. This time, while standing there in front of you, he was able to really see your face. Like, every single detail. You were stunning. So now, he felt the warmth climbing up his neck and cheeks out of the embarrassment of scaring you — and also from staring for too long. The adrenaline was still too high in his system at that point, forcing him to do things with thinking twice.

“Are you alright?” he asks, concerned. With a shake of your head and the sight of your opened hands showing him no bruises, he sights in relief.

“I guess I’ll just have a really sore butt tomorrow.” you joke, whilst still telling the truth. Your butt was definitely going to hurt tomorrow. With your answer, you took a smile from the masked boy, the apples of his cheeks rising with the action, and the bruise on his right one becoming evident. “You’re hurt.” you point out, putting your finger on your own cheek for him to find the bruise on his, taking out of it a bit of blood.

“Man-bats. I can’t think of anything worse.” he replies with a grunt. You finally look around, to where he had come from earlier and where you assumed his battle had happened. There was a man passed out a couple meters from where you stood, and you could see others further back. Your stomach fell, sensing the disaster that could have happened to you if it wasn’t for Red Robin.

“Here!” you fished inside your bag for that first aid kid your friend always insisted you have with you, taking out of it, and expecting to be embarrassed as soon as you show it to him, a Robin edition band-aid, tainted in green, red and yellow, and with a large R drawn into it. You show it to him, waiting for him to put it on. However, he leans his face closer to you, telling you silently to put it yourself. Not knowing how to react, your hands start to shake and you can barely take off the plastic protecting the bandage. 

His cheek was warm, but wet at the touch. It must be sweat from all the fighting, you thought. Looking up, his hair was also all wet, small droplets falling down his sides. Placing the band-aid carefully, you find yourself awkwardly close to your favorite vigilante. His masked eye didn’t show you its real color, but never left your, making your cheeks grow as red as his. Unknowingly, your fingers lingered in his face for longer than needed, caressing the place where his wound was now hidden. Finally paying attention to your actions, you retract your hands to your sides.

Now, facing each other with a much more comfortable distance, you get to admire his face, even if partially hidden, and his pretty smile spread once more on his lips. The themed band-aid actually complemented well his outfit, and the funny way he stood there with his arms on his hips. Tim also analyzed everything about you, from your smile you didn’t allow out but decorated your face either way, the way you looked everywhere but him once your eyes met again, and the curious phone case you had in your hand. It was a Robin one.

“I’m sorry.” he finally apologizes, messing up the hair at the nape of his neck. You want to tell him not to worry, but he cuts you to say: “It’s just been pretty… Busy night.” 

“So I’ve heard.”

“And you still decided to walk alone through an empty park at… eight past midnight?” he questioned, but his tone was light, not judgemental, almost a joke. 

“It’s my only way home. I have to take it every day. With time you grow used to it.” you informed him with a laugh, 

“And you’re not afraid?” he asked you one more time. With your shrug, you tried to tell him you were okay with that, when in fact, deep down, you knew with everyday before the clock ticked for your shift to end, the anxiety and the fear consumed your body and only wore out when you got to your street and Mr. Johnson could be seen in your building’s front door. Noticing your expression of uncertainty, he read between your lines and understood you perfectly.

“I can walk you home.” he offered.

“I don’t want to cause you any trouble.” you shook your head. “Besides, I think Batman might need your help.”

And as if the world could sense his desire, Oracle’s voice sounded in his ear telling him Superman was strolling around and decided to give the city some help.

“It’s been taken care off.” he told you, and signaled you to show him the way.

Walking side by side, you didn’t say anything for a while, until he curiously asked you what it was you were listening to that stopped you from hearing the lousy men-bats and all that fight.

“It’s a random playlist I found on YouTube, but I fucking love it. I can’t stop listening to it for days.” 

“Can I hear it too?”

“I only have one headphone, but…” you took it from where you had placed it in your bag and put it around your neck. Taking your phone and opening it again on that same playlist, you set the volume to the highest. “We can listen to it like this?”

Throwing him an awkward smile, he leans in closer. Your shoulders are touching and you swear you can feel his breath on your neck.

“Are you an Atomic Kitten fan?”

“Not really, but I like expanding my horizons.”

“Then I think you’d really like Vicenzo. He owns a small store, where he sells old records. He recommends some of the best music, you should check it out.”

“You should take me there sometime.” you tell him. 

If only I could, he thinks, regretting ever coming to you as Robin, and not simply Tim.

“I’m kind of busy a lot.” he tries to explain, and you notice the mistake you’ve made.

“I-I know. That was stupid. I know you’re busy.” letting your hair hide your face from him, you want to bury yourself down in a hole and never come out. Only you to think Robin himself would want to take you out in his off duty hours.

“At what time do you leave work?” Tim asks.

“Around 11h30. Why?” you reply, confused.

“I’ll bring you a disk tomorrow.”

“What?”

“I’m walking you home again, if you don’t mind.” he asks, begging to say yes and letting him see you again.

“I’d love it.” you whisper.

The rest of the way, you two talked about your music taste, the concerts you attended. You asked him about his costume, was it really as tight as it looked? Nightwing’s looked like it could rip at any moment. His was actually fine, it dressed him well, you told him, getting red once more.

By the end of the walk, Tim didn’t want to leave when you told him you had reached your street.

“So, this is it for me.” you told him, as you arrived at a crosswalk. Just across the street from where you stood was a man apparently  guarding the door.

“Oh.” was all he managed to say. Looking down, he hadn’t paid attention to it, but your hands were awfully close, so he touched your finger with his, playing with them, and, eventually, lacing them together. “See you tomorrow?”

“See you.” you went to kiss him goodbye. Just a peck on his cheek, you had just met him. But just as you, he went for the cheek kiss as well, and so your lips met. You two pulled away, but the magnetic field that seemed to bring you together all night was too strong to resist, and he leaned down to you, holding your neck, and kissing you again.

His lips were wet, and his tongue graciously slid into your mouth, playing with yours. Your eyes were closed, and just like a song, he took you away from your reality, inserting you into your own, where only you two existed. 

Stepping away for breath, still with his hands on your neck, he says.

“See you at 11h.”

“How can I pay you for this? Not the kiss I mean.” you correct yourself. With a laugh he replies, already running off to wherever it is Batman may need him next.

“Bring me some coffee.”

[starshipsofstarlord]

All mine

liam dunbar x reader / masterlist

summary; alec, scott’s new beta has a thing for liam’s girl, and sufficed to say, liam is anything but happy about the predicament / warnings; jealousy, smut, some choking, fucking in a playground, daddy kink, mentions of masturbation, mentions of phone sex, mentions of exhibitionism, oral sex (fem receiving).

the boy with anger issues was feeling a rage boil in his veins; they were in scott’s home, he had came back from college for a break, and thus, alec had joined in meeting with their alpha, though, not all his attention was reprised upon said pack leader.

there was a movie flashing upon the screen, you sat cross legged on the couch, whilst liam had been sent to the kitchen to grab a bowl of popcorn. he could feel his hand putting amble pressure on the plastic bowl, as he watched you explain every dumb thing occurring in the motion picture film.

alec was acting clueless on purpose, he could tell, more so since when he had first joined the pack, he had made such moves on you. and spoiler, eventually they had been successful. you were the same age as scott, meaning that you too had returned to beacon hills for your half term clause in the higher education, and liam wanted you to spend every moment with him, not this stray.

it took all his supernatural strength to restrain the growl threatening to rumble from his chest, his claws bent into the flesh of his palms, drawing a pooling of blood to the tether down from the self inflicted wound. scott smelt the blood, and wrinkled his nose at the scent that invaded his nostrils; he thought liam had his issues under control, but supposedly not entirely.

he couldn’t help himself, alec was trying his best, slyly glancing down your top, and he got he was only a hormonal teenage boy, same as him, but you were his girl. a rumble, resembling the natural force of thunder echoed around the living space, drawing all eyes, human and otherwise, in his direction.

the growl that had erupted from his chest had been possessive, a warning to the young, adopted beta, who quickly adjourned his arm away from the back of the couch, and shuffled from right beside you.

“li, are you good?” in an instant you removed yourself from where you were sat, walking towards him, and smoothing his shoulders over with your palms, watching as he heavily breathed. amber eyes flickered up to you, making you gulp; you now understood what had him so relentless and blunt with his aggression.

“i want to leave.” it wasn’t a question, it was a defiant statement. in turn, you nodded, grasping anything you needed, such as you jacket, and pulling it over your arms, liam quickly heading out, without bidding either of the boys a goodbye.

“see ya.” you waved at the pair, you would apologise for liam’s behaviour later to scott, he of course understood the situation nevertheless, he had been his alpha for a long time now. a hand grasped you as soon as you exited, pillowing roughly into your skin as he dragged you down the street, his pace quick and daring.

“you think i didn’t notice that beta’s eyes drifting down to your cleavage or him practically pawing for your attention.” he had stopped the two of you outside of a playground, you gulped, listening to him with an adjacent inclination.

“liam, there’s no need to be jealous.” your words had the priority of calming his angered exterior, though it happened that you had done rather the opposite. there was a firm line deposited between his dark brows, a frown that was aimed towards you directly.

“me, jealous? oh no, i know that you’re mine, but it comes to the question, do you?” he bit his lip, tensing the bridge of his nose as he moved his face closer to your own. “for all i know, at college, you don’t even let anyone know that you’re in a relationship, it could be your little secret, so you can fuck whomever you want.”

“that’s something i’d never do, you know that!” his accusations were flimsy, that much was liable, though although knowing that all his words came out of a place of secluded insecurity, you still felt the necessity to defend yourself. if you played his game, it would make him subconsciously doubt himself, and possibly believe the things that he was saying were true.

“do i?” the beta pried. liam made directories closer towards you, taking steps to discern your defence, letting his hand ravel up, and close around the front of your neck. your breath instantly hitched, as he wordlessly stated the power he had over you; not to mention, he was stronger, and he was irked, meaning that he would go to any lengths to prove his point, or lack of one.

“liam.” your hands came up to scratch at the exterior of his, worried that he would do some prominent damage, but rather than releasing his grip, he tightened his fist, triggering a hitch in your breath, and a uncoordinated, surprising moan to fly from your lips, as though your body was inherently howling at him for more.

“does my girlfriend like that? i think she likes daddy having his hand around her throat, don’t you baby? are you daddy’s dirty girl?” his slick words made your brain disintegrate into a contortion of confusion; more specifically, riddled with uncertainty, searching for a reason as to why his mature words were affecting you so.

there was no question about the matter, he was well adorned with the specifics of how it was affecting you. the reverberating of your heart thumped in his ears, like drums of a sacred matter, telling him how your hormones crazed, thundering with potential submission, that alternately had your knees quaking, fighting to remain standing.

then, there was the intoxicating aroma that scaled up to his nose from between your legs. that alone was a dead give away, he was lucky that it hadn’t killed him in the dead of night yet. being apart from you for so long had drove him borderline insane, one touch from you had him swooning, wanting nothing more for your hands to drift and intimately pet him.

phone calls, as erotic as some of them were, was just enough. the two of you were sectioned off for education in different counties, the distance pained him, in more ways than one. sometimes he’d wake up with a throbbing appendage between his thighs, begging for attention, more specifically, yours.

his hand got by, completing the job, but it wasn’t the same as the feeling of your sweet velvet walls encasing him likes an umbrella pouch, hugging his shaft tight as he rammed his length inside of you, preening moans of ecstasy out of your sinful mouth. the thought of such scenarios would have hun instantly hard in the school showers, leaving him frustrated for the rest of the day.

and though you had returned for a couple of weeks, he remained prominently stressed, never having enough contact with your skin that he had missed so much. he wished for nothing more than to spend it in a godforsaken rut, trapping you in the confines of his bed as he thrust in and out of you, but it so happened that isn’t how your return had panned out.

the luxury of the bed was not present, in its place was the soft breeze prickling at your skin, making every lingering, and restraining touch that he gave to it that more sensual. it was like nature was biting at your skin, plucking up the courage to adorn your flesh in small bumps, coercing your nipples into being erect, although, that was admittedly not all down to the wispy air.

your boyfriend had turned you on, his methods of doing so far different from anything that he had ever embraced before. whom would have ever thought that the once youngest member of the mccall pack would not forlorn in his youth, but instead want to demean his title as something as sexual as ‘daddy’? you sure as didn’t, but you couldn’t deny, it was kind of hot.

okay, more than hot, a lot more. “answer me y/n.” that’s right, you had gotten swept away with this whole new side to your partner, to say that you were drooling was an understatement, if he pointed it out, you’d blame it on him choking you. choking you! damn, he really had been reading up on some kinky shit whilst you were away.

“i do.” it was an honest answer, traded from you to him. though, it wasn’t entirely what he wanted to hear, you recognised that as he promptly squeezed your air way, causing your tongue to dip out of your mouth as you momentarily gasped for an ounce of breath. to spare you a second to respond, he pardoned his grip, stroking down the side of your face with the back of his stern hand.

“answer properly this time babe, else, i’ll fuck you over the swing set.” gulping, you locked eyes with liam, rubbing your thighs together at his prospect, inhaling heavily, as you felt him soothe his thumb rub upon the crevice of your chin, moisturising your own saliva into your skin.

“i love you choking me, daddy.” the word had a strange affect on your body as it rolled almost effortlessly off your tongue. instantly, verbalising the phrase had you feeling meek under the cold gaze of your boyfriend, a smirk ruling his face, as he clasped his knuckles into the dips of your waist, tugging you close.

“good girl.” he ushered the words into your ear as though he were a pro at doing so, lowering his palms to grab both your ass cheeks, a shocked squeal clawing out of the colander of your throat. “but i’m still going to fuck you over it, and i expect you to grasp onto the chains like you’re holding on for your life, and wail like a banshee that you are all mine.”

a slither of a sound, radiating utter betrothal escaped your withering lips, it was something between noise of a whimper, and a small moan. liam took that, and rightfully so, as approval to proceed with his intentions, and thus, he lead you through the gravel of the empty playground, directing his footsteps to the swings, and pushing you to be in front of him.

he bent your waist a little, so that you were hunched over, offering the perfect angle to generate pleasure for the both of you, as he began to tug your jeans down, letting the tight material meet with the croons of your ankles, and remain tethered around them.

“shit, you’ve already soaked through your panties baby.” liam soothed his fingers over the wet patch that opted through the thin material, brushing directly over your sensitive bundle of nerves, causing your mouth to wantonly drop open, in a silent beckon for more. “i can smell you too, you know, and damn, do you smell fucking divine.”

“daddy please.” the beg fell comfortably from you, there was no sudden recital to saying it once more. peculiarly, it felt natural, the dynamic between you and your partner being a stable structure to begin exploring further aspects that spectated in intimacy.

“sit on the seat, daddy will help you out darling.” trailing around the side of the metal structure, you carefully strode to do as liam has said, perching your ass on the swing, it lightly swaying from the impact of your weight upon the small dipped hammock. “there we go.”

liam knelt, scathing his covered knees upon the ground, as he ran his eager palms along the insides of your thighs, plucking at the band of your panties, before shuffling them down far enough so that he had all the access that he hungered for. the brisk whim that waded through the nighttime air had your pussy clenching, feeling the cold integrate against your folds, as liam puckered his lips.

he blew hot air upon your labia, enforcing your grip around the malleable metal chains to tighten, as you lightly shuffled the way that you were sat, spreading your legs a little wider, as your toes scratched relentlessly inside your socks, digging the front of your sneakers into the tarmac below.

your boyfriend leant forwards, swiping his tongue up your folds, causing you to press your head back, as you airily sighed from the contact, loving the way that his tongue delved around the area of your clit, swirling the bud in his mouth, as his teeth gently pinched the sensitive fumble of flesh.

“li- ah, daddy.” he had nipped at your outer lips, serving his actions as a form to correct how you had labelled him. “fuck, you’re so good with your tongue- shit.” his tongue slipped down into your entrance, thrusting the part of himself in and out of you, as you almost fell out of the swing seat.

“mmh.” your so called daddy hummed, sucking once more on your clit, before pulling his head away, as he stood, dragging you with him to force you to stand, delving his saturated tongue into the depths of your mouth, giving you no other option than to taste yourself on his buds. “what do you say baby?” his hand crawled into your hair as he bit his lip, staring with heavy lids at your flushed expression.

“thank you daddy.” a strong nod, he swiftly rotated you around, giving a light smack to your ass cheek, pinching the flesh, as he hurriedly undressed his bottom half, after fishing a loose packaged condom out of his back pocket. his tongue toyed with his top lip, as he ripped open the plastic square, rolling the condom onto his erect cock, giving himself a couple of jerks, as he steadied himself behind where you had hunched over once more.

he grasped his heavy cock, sliding his length through your smothered folds, teasing you as he tapped your clit, resting his hips flush against your own, as he pressed inside of you, causing an elongated string of obscene sounds to cast out of your mouth, playing a tune out of your melodically fawned lips.

a grunt tore itself out of his chest, as he clenched his fine jaw, digging his thumbs into your ass cheeks, as he began to move; delving deep within you, before pulling out of your tight walls, and rutting himself back inside of you. “fuck, feels so good da- ah!”

your natural sounds of pleasure drowned the surrounding area in an epitome of adulterated musings. adjoined with the sounds of liam’s skin slapping against your own, it was a surprise that no one had intervened, nor walked by. though, liam would have heard if they were in a nearby radius, with his supernatural hearing, that he had gotten through a set of canines digging urgently into his wrist, as he hung solemnly off the side of the hospital.

“you’re all mine, you hear that? those frat boys can keep their pervy gazes off of my girl, otherwise i guess i’ll just have to pay you a visit, and fuck you loud enough for anyone to hear.” he began panting, flowing his breath down upon your lower back. “yeah, you like that idea baby girl, how about i take over in the lecture hall and bend you over that desk, drilling into your tight cunt in front of every one so that they know that you belong to me?”

his half conceived promises, his taunting of you had you rolling closer to the edge, backing your hips backwards as you urgently met with his thrusts, forcing him to hip deeper into your cervix, a light growl prowling out of his chest, as he leant against you, angling his waist lower as he thrust upwards, his chest flat against your back.

“yes- fuck! please daddy, i wou- love that. love for you to fuck me for everyone to see, fill me with your cum, make me cu-um.” his heated breath strained against your skin, as your eyes fluttered, feeling succumbed to a white flush inside your veins, your body halting with it’s stability, resting helplessly over the swing seat, a she kept you steady.

“all mine.” your boyfriend stated, as he made you fall over the edge, ravenously thrusting into you to chase his own high. “gonna fucking cum.” a minor roar yelped out of his mouth, as his eyes strung shut, his shoulders relaxing as he emptied his seed into the condom, pulling out of your sopping cunt, as he removed the layer of protection, throwing it successfully in a bin a few feet away.

hazily, you went to stand, liam helping you pull your bottoms up, as he did so to himself too. he held you up, as he hoisted a passionate kiss onto your lips, a satisfied smile on his face once he pulled away. “i miss you so much when you’re away, i love you y/n/n.”

an appeased expression faulted your expression, as you reached up to entwine your hands together at the back of his neck. “i’m all yours li, or should i call you daddy?” you teased, causing a blush to fathom the apples of his cheeks. he looked down, an embarrassed poise covering his face.

“shut up.” he jokingly prompted, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as he began to walk you home, as you continued to tease him about his newly revealed kink, or multiple.

[watchmegetobsessed]

Floating Through Space - Harry Styles

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

pairing: Harry x Famous!Reader

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

word count: 25.7k

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t wear men’s pants.”

“You’d look better in a dress.”

“Why do you look like a guy?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oi, can I ask for one?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not even once,” you shake your head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

They stay silent and you know you were right.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you home already?”

“Yes, just arrived.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“See?” she smiles warmly.

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

“Harry Styles.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You and Harry?”

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

“Not that it’s something that would just come up in a conversation,” you shrug. “And as I said, he might not even remember it. It was a long time ago.”

“I know you are all about your rebellious past, good for you, but sometimes you’re making my job really fucking hard,” she sighs, grabbing her phone, already typing a message to God knows who. “Starting beef with Harry Styles before you even made a name for yourself? Who does that?”

“It’s not beef!” you protest. “I just gave them my piece of mind.”

“We’ll see what he thinks about it. I have to make a few calls,” she announces before walking out, already on the phone with someone.

Sitting on a stool, staring into your mug you think back at the time you met him. It feels like a lifetime ago when you were fighting to stay afloat, trying to make through the days, barely hanging on a thread. You didn’t know that five years later you’d sign your first record deal as a solo artist and seven years from that night, you’d be a Grammy nominee. It was a long and challenging time for sure with way more downs than ups until you finally got on track and you’ll never forget where you came from. Not when even as an acknowledged artist, you still face judgment and hatred no matter what you do. Being a solo female singer sometimes feels like harder than being president of the country and there are just so many things that need to change in the world of music, you will never stop fighting for girls that are in the same shoe you once were.

Through the years you’ve followed the career of the boys, especially Harry’s. You read about Zayn’s parting, their so-called hiatus and how they all went solo soon after. Genre-wise Harry’s work is what stands the closest to you, and you’ve witnessed all the backlash he has faced during his time in the spotlight. The shaming for whatever women he chose to date, his choice to get into acting and the way he has been dressing. People just don’t seem to understand they can’t have control over any of these and they’ve tried to bring him down one too many times, but he has been thriving lately, anyone can see that.

Your mug empties out by the time Taylor returns, taking her previous stop at the kitchen island.

“Alright, I set up a meeting with Harry and his manager for tomorrow. They still haven’t decided on the performance and apparently, Harry would like to meet you before giving his answer.”

“Oh God, he remembers me,” you growl under your breath.

“Or maybe he doesn’t and just wants to meet the person he is supposed to perform with. We can never know. We’re meeting them at his manager’s office at eleven tomorrow.”

One night is enough to make you go crazy over such a small thing as meeting someone. It’s not like you are nervous to see him because of who he is, it’s more about knowing what he thinks about you after all these years, in case he remembers you. He saw you as a struggling artist at rock bottom and though your encounter didn’t last long and he didn’t know you on a deeper, personal level, you still fear that he remembers and thinks that you’ve lost yourself over the years.

Authenticity has been a huge issue in your life. Early in your career, everyone wanted to change you. The way you dress, your hair, the style of music you write, nothing was good enough as it was, they wanted you to become someone else, someone who was not you. You fought all attempts until the right person came through and accepted you as yourself, but a tiny voice in the back of your mind kept telling you that they succeeded, that somewhere along the fight you did lose yourself and became what you always feared to be.

Meeting Harry is like meeting a piece of your past and having to face what you’ve become. It’s going to be like a mirror right in front of you and what you’ll see might not be what you expect.

Wearing your bright red dungaree with an oversized vintage shirt and a pair of white sneakers, you definitely don’t look like you’re dressed for a business meeting, but when did you ever? Pushing your hair back with a pair of cat eye shades, you leave a little earlier, knowing well traffic is horrible in these hours. You arrive to the office building just minutes before eleven, Taylor has already texted that she has arrived and which office you should come to. When you finally find the door you’ve been looking for, you take a moment to yourself before knocking.

“Come in!” a male voice calls out and you walk in. Taylor is sitting on the sofa that’s pushed against the wall on the left, a man is sitting behind the enormous desk and then there is Harry, standing by the window, his hands hidden in the pockets of his black slacks, and old Rolling Stones t-shirt hanging loosely on his frame as his eyes meet yours upon your arrival.

“Hey, I would say I’m sorry for being late, but I’m actually exactly on time,” you smirk, closing the door behind you. The man stands from the desk and walking around he meets at the front, holding a hand out for you.

“Perfectly on time,” he smiles warmly. “I’m Jeffrey Azoff, nice to meet you.”

“Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you too.”

“And this here is Harry,” he motions towards the man who has stepped closer and as you look back at him, you’re met with a blank expression for a moment so you can’t figure out if he remembers you or not. But then, a tiny smile tugs on his lips as he holds his hand out for you.

“We’ve met before, right?” he simply questions, and your eyes flicker over to Taylor in a kind of “See? I told you!” manner before you look back at Harry and shake his hand.

“Yeah, we have,” you nod. “A long time ago.”

“Congrats for your nominations,” he smirks, his hand letting go of yours and your let out a soft chuckle.

“Well, thank you. Back at you.”

“Alright, why don’t we start this discussion? We have a lot to go over,” Jeff suggests and you sit beside Taylor while Harry stays near the window, as if he is trying to soak up the sunshine coming through it that’s painting his skin a golden shade.

The concept is simple. The performance would be a mashup from Sleepless and Harry’s song Golden with an exciting and fresh way of mixing the two songs together in the middle, making your song flow into his in a smooth and effortless way. The songs sound compatible and you already have an idea how to mash them together for the transition, but you can’t help but feel doubts over the performance.

“What are your concerns exactly?” Jeff questions.

“Not to come off too harsh, but why is my song the first one?” you ask, earning a few puzzled looks. “If Harry finishes it off, he is going to be the one people will remember more and he’ll get the applause as well. The riffs in the songs allow them to be switched, how come it’s not me who comes second?”

You can see the shock on Jeffrey’s face at how straight-forward you were about your concern and that you even dared to speak up about the issue. He clearly hasn’t had to face anything similar before and when he glances at Harry you follow his gaze as well, but instead of shock, what you see on his face is amusement. He is smirking, tapping his fingers against his chin as he stares back at you.

“She has a point,” he nods and you take a deep breath. For a moment, you really thought this is going to be the part where you are thrown off and Harry makes the performance only his.

“I, uhh—this is what’s been requested,” Jeff answers and you tilt your head.

“Okay, can we make a request to change it?” you simply ask, eyeing Taylor next to you who is typing on her iPad vigorously, taking notes of everything that’s said. She is already used to what you’re like, she is not even surprised you came up with the prompt to change.

“Hold on, so just because you want to be second, you get to be?” Harry questions, but he doesn’t come off as harsh, it seems like he is entertained by the conversation. “Does this mean I don’t deserve to be the second one?”

“That’s-That’s not what I meant,” you answer, taken aback from his accusation and you hate to admit, but he is right. You addressed the issue, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve the spot either.

“Alright, so then we need to seek a solution that benefits the both of us,” he offers, walking closer from the sunlight and you follow his every movement.

“We could do some kind of medley? Do an ultimate mashup from more songs and have more smaller parts split between us, finishing it together,” you suggest and he nods.

“That could work, but I have something else on my mind.”

“And what would that be?” Jeff asks, a little lost about the situation as he watches the two of you exchange ideas.

“We could write a song together, a duet, and perform that instead of our solo stuff.”

“What?” you snap right away. “You want to write a whole new song just for the Grammy’s?”

“Why not?” he smiles carefreely. “We have almost two entire months to do it, albums have been written in shorter periods, I’m sure we can handle just one song. And I think a collaboration would be a hit for the both of us now.”

You look at Taylor who just stares back at you, ignoring the panic in your eyes.

“Don’t look at me,” she tells you. “I can see the collaboration working, it could be a huge hit.”

“And what, we’re gonna release it as a single after the show? Whose song is it going to be? I don’t have an album coming up until next year, do you get to have it on your third one then?”

“We can put it out as just a single. No one has to have it on any albums,” Harry replies. “If we released it after the show, it would be just the right timing. Neither of us had any new songs out in a while.” Clenching your jaw you’re trying to find a way out of this collaboration, though you’re not even sure yourself why. Taylor sees right through you, knowing well you’re planning your escape, but she has other plans apparently.

“Y/N, let’s have a few words outside,” she pushes herself up and pulls you with her. Once the door is shut behind the two of you she starts right away. “What the fuck is your problem? The song is a huge thing, it would be an instant hit with him on it!”

“Why do I need a song with him to stay relevant?” you question, folding your arms on your chest.

“No one said it’s about that. But we both know it would be a great push to your name that Jordan has stomped over not so long ago, calling you a Feminist Nazi.”

“Don’t even fucking mention him!” you whisper yell, refusing to even think about that trashbag of a man that ruined your life with his fake accusations.

“Look, I know what you are thinking, that you’ll be seen as just an object next to him, a pair of boobs and nice legs, but that’s not his brand. He doesn’t need you to be sexy next to him, he is known for his honest and real works that go farther than just twerking and being a hoe. We both know he produces meaningful music, so why are you so against it?”

“I just… I-I’m scared to work with him,” you finally admit and it’s the first thing today that surprises Taylor.

“Scared? Thought you’re not scared of anything,” she huffs.

“I never said that,” you give her a look. “Harry met me when I was nobody, it was just me and my big mouth, trying to find my breakout. What if we start working together and he sees that I completely lost that version of myself? I would feel like a liar, an impostor.”

“You are overreacting,” Taylor sighs. “You’ve changed on your way here, but I doubt you are that far from the girl he met before. I know we didn’t meet just a few years after, but I can assure you, you’re still that big-mouthed pain in the ass who fights every norm in the industry like no one else.”

You know she is right, she is always right. Taylor knows you too well, that’s why you love working with her, but sometimes, her honesty throws you way off, especially when she is stating the truth.

The two of you rejoin the two men in the office and they both look at you with anticipation as you fold your arms on your chest and move your gaze over to Harry.

“I would… love to work on a song with you.”

When you agreed to work with Harry you didn’t think you’d find yourself heading over to his house a few days later to have a writing session, but he offered right away that day in the office and Taylor accepted it before you could protest. You’ve had a day filled with meetings and fittings and now you’re rolling up his driveway after punching the security code in that he shared with you over text.

You’ve exchanged numbers on the spot and just like that, you’ve become one of the few people on this world that could contact Harry Styles anytime they want to.

You chose to be casual for the occasion, wearing a pair of black sweatpants and a white hoodie, you like to be comfortable whenever you’re working on new music and Harry’s presence won’t change your ways about that. You’re not sure what to expect, if you’re being honest you’re still afraid of being alone with Harry and do such an emotional thing together as writing a song.

The front door opens just as you get out of your car, grabbing your bag from the passenger seat. Harry walks out wearing a pair of shorts and a green hoodie, looking like he hasn’t left the house all day.

“Hey, you found the address easily?” he asks smiling as you walk up to him.

“Yeah, everything went fine.”

“Do you want something to drink or eat maybe?” he offers as the two of you walk inside. If you’re being honest, you’re starving, the last time you had anything to eat was between two meetings around ten, but nothing since then, just a granola bar. But you’re a first time guest, you can’t just eat up his fridge, like you’re old pals, right?

However, Harry can see right through you.

“You haven’t had anything in a long time, right?” he softly asks and you purse your lips, feeling awkward already and you haven’t been here for more than two minutes. “I can make you a sandwich, if you’d like.” “Harry, no need, I—“ “No need, but I want to. Come on,” he nods at you, making you follow him into the kitchen. “So, who would have thought we would be here now, huh?” he smirks at you as he gathers the ingredients and starts working on your food while you sit on one of the stools at his kitchen island.

“Not me,” you admit chuckling. “I kind of didn’t think I would see you again, I mean, personally. I was seeing you a lot on TV after that.”

“Now might be a good time to confess that, that night wasn’t the last time I saw you.”

“What?”

“I went to one of your gigs a few weeks later. Stayed at the back, I just really wanted to see you play.”

“And what did you think?” you ask tilting your head to the side. Harry smirks, his eyes meeting yours before they return to the food under his hands.

“You absolutely smashed it. And I felt even worse for taking your time away that night. The people were robbed from a mind-blowing performance and had to see five annoying guys clown on the stage,” he laughs making you chuckle too. “I wasn’t surprised when your name surfaced a few years later. Knew you’d make it at one point.” He joins you at the island and slides the plate in front of you with a warm smile.

“Thank you,” you mumble smiling shyly before you start eating and only after the first bite you feel just how hungry you’ve been. “Now that we are at it, I want to apologize for the way I talked to you guys back then. I feel like I was a bigger asshole than I should have been and the whole situation wasn’t entirely your fault.”

“No need to apologize,” he shakes his head. “You were absolutely right. We had no business being on stage that night and what you said actually made us think about where we came from and appreciate our career more. You were right about having it easy at the beginning. We never had the phase where we had to push our way to the top like other artists, our first days were broadcasted on TV, giving us the biggest push ever.”

It’s good to hear he is not holding grudges against you for whatever went down in the past. You eat in silence while Harry types a response to a message on his phone before turning it with the screen down to pay his full attention to you.

“I actually just messaged Niall that we are working together and he is losing his shit over it,” he chuckles softly.

“You guys still talk?”

“Yeah, sometimes. Not all of us thought,” he adds, pressing his lips together.

“You miss being with the band?”

“It’s… good to rely on someone in certain situations. As a solo artist, you only have yourself and that’s about it. But I think you already know that.”

“I never really liked being in a band,” you admit.

“How come? I think you fit in well with The Gambits.”

You shrug, chewing on your bite slowly. It’s probably not the best time to admit that you prefer working on your own, when you’re about to get into a duet with him.

“I uhh… I always imagined myself being a solo artist and I just couldn’t stay with the guys too long, especially when I got my record deal.”

“Why?” Letting out a long breath you lick your lips looking at him.

“I would have never made it in a band with three guys. It would have always been about which one I’m sleeping with, who am I having an affair with or if I’m lesbian because I’m not hooking up with any of them. This is just how it goes for women.”

Harry stays quiet, taking your words in as you finish the sandwich that was literally lifesaving. You wash the plate even when he tells you to just leave it in the sink, and once that’s done, the two of you move over to his little home studio in the basement of his house.

“So, where do we start?” you ask, making yourself comfortable in one of the armchairs while he grabs an acoustic guitar and sits on the one next to you.

“How do you usually start writing?” he asks scratching his chin before he rests his hands on the body of the guitar.

“Well, most of the times I write when I’m pissed about something,” you huff and Harry smirks at you.

“Nothing pissed you off lately?”

“Not enough to make me write a song,” you point out. “See, this is one of the reasons why I was hesitant to write a song with you. It doesn’t come that easily for me.”

“And what were the other reasons?” You shut your mouth at his question, you weren’t expecting him to pick it up, but apparently, he listens more than you thought.

“It’s… a long story.”

“And we have all the time,” he smiles slyly. “But of course, don’t feel pressured to share. I just thought it would be nice to get to know each other more so we can work together easier.”

Harry starts strumming his guitar gently, playing random riffs as you watch him, chewing on your bottom lip. Taylor asked you to try and be more open than you usually are and though part of you wants to keep the wall high between you and him, something is telling you to try and reach out to him.

“I didn’t want to do it, because I didn’t want to be seen as just a pretty face next to you. In duets between a man and a woman, females are often seen as just an object, a sight for the eyes but not as serious artists. I worked hard to be taken seriously and I was hesitant about collaborating with you even though your music is not necessarily what I should fear.”

Harry looks back at you with an unreadable expression and you feel like he is judging you for standing up for yourself. Your fight for yourself is often mistaken as “being a bitch” or “being too sensitive” and the amount of times you’ve been told to just chill is upsetting.

“Well, good thing then that I won’t write music about twerking,” he then finally speaks up, a smile breaking his blank expression.

“But you do write a lot about sex,” you point out with a smirk.

“That I do, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be sexist at the same time.”

“You’re right,” you nod smiling.

 The writing process turns out to be harder than you thought. You’re not specifically inspired and Harry is the person to just throw things around until he finds something he likes. The two of you put together is kind of chaotic as you try to come up with something useful.

Two hours later you have a raw version of a melody that could serve as a chorus, but nothing else, no full melody, no lyrics. And if you’re being honest, you don’t like that chorus that much either.

“It’ll be fun to just stand on stage for three minutes and do absolutely nothing, because we couldn’t write anything,” you groan, sliding lower in your seat, rubbing your face with your hands.

“It’s literally our first session and we have plenty of time, Y/N. Don’t stress about it.”

“I don’t know how to do that.”

“You don’t know how not to stress?”

“I literally haven’t had a stressfree day since about 2007, so no, I don’t know.”

“You can’t chill even when you smoke?” he asks and you give him a puzzled look. “What, you smoke, don’t you?”

“Cigarettes? I put it down in 2015.”

“No, I’m not talking about cigarettes,” Harry chuckles softly. “You don’t smoke weed?” You shyly shake your head. “Really? I would have sworn you’re the type to relax with a good joint. Want to try it?”

“What? Now?” you ask with wide eyes.

“Why not?” he shrugs and walks over to the little side table in the corner of the room and reaching into it he simply pulls a little plastic bag out with three joints in them.

“Are you just casually keeping joints around your house?”

“I don’t really smoke them, they make me feel sleepy. But some of my friends like it so I keep a few around,” he explains as he takes one out and puts the rest back. “You want to try?”

“I-I’m not sure… I have to drive back home.”

“You can stay for the night, I have three guest bedrooms,” he shrugs before his eyes meet yours. “Again, not trying to pressure you, I’m just offering.”

“Are you gonna smoke?”

“We can share one if you want. I would recommend smoking one by yourself for the first time.”

“Okay,” you nod shortly as you watch him tip-tap the joint a little, rolling it between his fingers before he takes it between his lips and reaches for a lighter. “Wait, shouldn’t we do it somewhere outside? The smoke is gonna get stuck in here.”

Harry stops, thinking about what you said and he nods. Grabbing the guitar he asks you to follow him and the two of you move up and out to the terrace, sinking into his lounge chairs. You bring your knees up to your chest, hugging them tightly as you watch Harry light the joint and take the first few puffs. As he exhales the smoke he holds the joint out for you and you take it, hesitantly putting it between your lips as you inhale for the first time. You can’t help but scowl at the taste, the whole act of smoking feeling strange after years of smoking your last cigarette. You keep it down a little before puffing the smoke out and passing the joint back to Harry.

You keep switching until you make it past half of it and you finally start to feel the effect of it. You feel light, like you’re floating in the pool that’s in front of you, you can almost feel the water touching your skin yet you’re still dry.

“How are you feeling?” Harry asks, blinking at you with hooded eyes.

“I’m feeling… fine,” you chuckle softly as you take the joint from him and drag from it again. “Do you do other drugs?”

“I’ve done shrooms a few times, not often though. I’m not trying to pick up an addiction,” he smiles softly, running a hand through his hair. “Have you done anything?”

“No,” you shake your head. “Didn’t have the money for it before and then didn’t have time later. But I never really felt the need either.”

“And you said you put down the cigarette as well?”

“Yeah. I knew I had to do that sooner or later, it was starting to change my voice and I couldn’t have that.”

“That’s what we always told Louis, that his voice will turn to shit if he keeps smoking,” Harry chuckles softly, dragging from the joint before he passes it over to you, not much left of it.

“Did he ever stop?”

“I think he put it down when his son was born, but I don’t know if he started again.”

You give the joint back for him to finish it and you watch him put it out in the ashtray before he sinks down in the lounge chair, closing his eye for a bit, breathing steadily. You find it amusing how you can still see the guy that handed you a check years ago at that bar, trying to make things right, but he also looks like a completely different person at the same time. He is more mature and open in his mindset and just the way he approaches things in general. The Harry you met seven years ago was still searching his way, but the version lying next to you now is a lot more confident in who he really is.

“Want to take a picture?” he hums keeping his eyes closed.

“What?”

His eyes peel open and turn to face you, a smug smirk on his lips.

“You’ve been staring at me. Take a picture, it lasts longer.”

“You are way too full of yourself,” you scoff and pushing yourself up from the lounge chair you walk over to the edge of the pool, mesmerized by the way the light is dancing on the surface.

You never really thought about what weed would feel like in your system, but it feels oddly tranquil and relaxing. In a way your body feels a little strange, like it’s not even yours, but you also sense everything very… loudly.

“You alright?” you hear Harry’s voice coming from behind, the tapping on his feet signaling that he is walking closer to you.

“Yeah,” you nod without taking your eyes off of the water.

“Do you want to go for a swim?”

“What?” you breathe out turning to face him.

“Do you want to go in?” he rephrases his question with a small smile.

“I don’t… have a bathing suit,” you answer and the moment the words leave your mouth they feel so ridiculous even when you were just stating the truth.

“Okay, but you are wearing underwear, aren’t you?” he smirks. “Or I’m completely fine if you want to go in naked,” he adds smugly.

“Shut up,” you chuckle. “Can you… maybe give me a pair of shorts? I’m fine without a bra when I come out but I would rather have my underwear on dry.”

“Sure,” he hums and turning around he jogs back into the house while you stay right there, staring at the water again.

With each passing moment you get calmer, the outside world and everything in life that’s not happening right in this moment eases into nothingness, your mind numbs in the best way possible.

When Harry returns he is wearing a pair of yellow swimming shorts, two towels are thrown over his shoulders and he has a pair of white shorts in his hands.

“This is the smallest thing I have, I think it’ll be fine,” he comments handing you the shorts.

“Thanks,” you nod before he shows you the way to the closest bathroom where you change out of your clothes leaving them in a neatly folded pile on the counter, you put on the shorts that are a little big on you, but once you’ve tied the strings it seems to be staying up steadily. Your simple black bra is not showing more than what a bikini top would, so you feel fine walking out in your attire.

Harry is sitting at the edge of the pool, his legs moving around in the water. His head lifts hearing your steps and he smiles at you, standing up when you arrive.

“Fits fine,” he nods, taking a look at the shorts.

“Yeah,” you chuckle.

Walking over to the steps you dip your feet in first, testing the temperature before you start going in further, Harry following you right behind. Just as you expected, the water feels smooth against your skin, warmly caressing and swallowing your body as you get in, the surface reaching your chest. You let your arms move around, feel how the water runs through your fingers, it’s amusing and you enjoy it probably more than you should. It’s just water, but right now it feels like a pile of clouds.

“I know I suggested to smoke and then swim, but please don’t drown into my pool, I won’t be able to talk myself out of that,” he chuckles, easing him into the water until it reaches his neck.

“My life is in your hands, Harry,” you smirk at him before you follow him and let the water swallow your whole body up to your neck.  “This feels so nice.”

“Yeah? You like it?” he smirks.

“Mm, like I’m… floating through space.”

“In a sense, you are floating in the water,” he chuckles. “You don’t feel sick, right?”

“No, I’m fine,” you smile at him shortly.

You move over to the edge of the pool, laying your arms to the side, holding yourself up so your legs could float in the water. You watch Harry dive under and swim across the pool, reaching the far end before he pushes himself over to you.

“When I went to see you perform there was a song I really liked, but I never found it anywhere later.”

“Which one?”

“The chorus went like… Crashing and crumbling, I’m fighting for my breath, Today won’t be the day I’m meeting death…”

You suck on your breath, surprised how well he remembered the lines even after so many years. He recalled them perfectly, even singing the melody a little with them.

“I never recorded it in studio,” you admit quietly.

“Why not?”

“Because it felt too emotional and I didn’t want it to be just out there.”

“What was the name of the song?”

“It’s called Till I Die. I wrote it when…” You take a deep breath, feeling heavy just by talking about it, but something is urging you to share it with him. “I left from home right after I graduated high school, broke contact with my parents completely and I had a few very rough years, trying to just… keep myself alive, I guess.”

“Can I ask why you left your parents?”

“We had very different visions of what I should become. And I didn’t intend to live the life they imagined for me. My parents are very… traditional, my career in their eyes is just some kind of circus when I’m the clown on the stage. They don’t take any of it seriously and they made it very clear at the beginning that they don’t want me to become a musician. I was supposed to become a surgeon, my dad is one and my mom is in criminal law, they both worked very hard to get to where they are, but they don’t think that’s exactly what I’m doing as well.”

The last person you shared it with was Taylor and though it feels odd to open up about these old wounds again, but having Harry as the one listening to you just feels right.

“You haven’t talked to them since you left?”

“No,” you shake your head.

“And they didn’t even try to contact you?”

“Well, I made sure they couldn't. Changed my number first thing I set my feet outside the house and I never left them any of my addresses. I know it sounds cruel, but I didn’t want to do anything with them after the shaming they put me through when I told them I don’t want to become their perfect little daughter. They told me that I could consider myself disowned from the family if I dare to even write a song.”

“Woah, that sounds really tough.”

“It was,” you nod. “I wasn’t asking them to support me in any other way apart from just being there for me. It’s not like I wanted to spend the money the put aside for my tuition to buy guitars and tour the country, I just wanted them to… accept who I am, but apparently, I asked for too much.”

You feel tears forming in your eyes, but you wipe them quickly. It’s been long since the last time you let the thought of your parents, you’ve been good at keeping these feelings bottled up and in the deepest end of your mind. It’s not like you’re going around and just share your trauma with anyone you meet, but it felt comfortable to share it with Harry.

“I’m sorry about that. Everyone should have a support, especially in our job.”

“I had… myself,” you chuckle bitterly. “Became pretty good at relying only on myself.”

“I’m guessing it’s another reason why you prefer working alone, right?” he smiles at you softly.

“You could say that,” you nod into the water.

“I know it’ll sound cheesy, but… if you ever want to talk, I’m here,” he offers.

“Oh, are we becoming friends?” you ask chuckling.

“We’ve known each other for long enough to be friends, am I right?” he smirks, splashing some water in your way.

“We met a long time ago, but that doesn’t mean we know each other. Everything I know about you is from articles and gossip sites and I think you can only say the same thing,” you point out.

“Okay, then let’s get to know each other.”

“What, do you want to play 21 questions now or something?” you huff.

“Damn right,” he smirks.

And that’s exactly what you do. Swimming around in the pool you ask each other questions, some are funny, some are more serious and you slowly start to get to know each other, seven years after meeting for the first time, but in a way it feels like it’s been just last week when you were talking in the alleyway.

The weed soon dies down in your system, leaving you incredibly tired and it’s only then you realize it’s already past one am. Pulling out of the pool, you both grab a towel drying yourselves up before making your way back into the house.

“The guest bedroom next to mine has a bathroom so I think that’s the best one. I can give you something to sleep in if you’d like,” Harry offers as you follow him down the hallway.

“I think I’m fine in my sweats, but thank you.” He shows you the room, tells you how to change the AC if you feel too cold or hot and then bidding goodbye he is about to go to his own room when you stop him.

“Thank you for… today. I know we didn’t get far with the song, but… I liked hanging out with you,” you admit with a shy smile, leaning against the doorframe.

“Don’t worry about the song, it’ll be fine. And I liked it too. We can make it a regular thing, if you want. You can come over, we’d chill and try to cook up something for the song.”

“I, uhh… Yeah, that sounds good,” you nod, he shoots you a smile before turning around and disappearing in his room.

The morning doesn’t turn out at all any awkward, especially because you don’t get to stay around too long. You have a meeting at eleven so you have to leave in time to go home and get changed before that. Harry makes you coffee, which is lifesaving, the two of you sit at the terrace as you drink it and you arrange to meet in two days to try and have another, hopefully more successful session for the song.

You genuinely enjoyed your time with Harry and to think that you didn’t only smoked weed for the first time with him, but also opened up about your parents, you feel a kind of connection forming and you can only hope you’re not gonna regret it later.

You move on with work after leaving from Harry’s that morning, you have some fittings for upcoming photoshoots and an interview scheduled, so there’s not much time for you to sit around. Tonight you’re supposed to meet Harry again at his place for another session and you feel buzzed about it. You meet Taylor for lunch, sitting on the terrace of your usual place she is talking you through everything that’s coming up the next week, just like you always do so then you can put work aside and have a real chat.

“So how did the writing session go?” she asks, digging into her salad that she always asks with extra chicken.

“The writing? Not so well. But we had a good time,” you truthfully admit.

“Good, good! You’re finally making friends!” Taylor grins, satisfied with the news. You just roll your eyes at her, turning back to your food right when you notice that your phone has been blowing up with notifications.

Huffing you grab it from the table with the pure intention of muting it down completely, but then you see that several people have texted you the same link and it bugs your curiosity so you open one of the messages and tap on the link.

“You have got to be kidding me,” you groan, feeling your rage already pushing up your spine, clouding your vision in red.

“What?” Taylor snaps, reaching for her phone out of reflex.

“That fucking asshole dragged my name again!”

“Who? Jordan? That fucker never learns?” Taylor hisses, her thumbs vigorously typing on the screen immediately.

“Someone asked him about me on Twitter and he dared to call me a lying bitch! I can’t fucking believe this man!”

You and Jordan worked together on a project a while ago. You were supposed to write lyrics to a song he was composing and it was meant for an upcoming popular Netflix show, so the anticipation around the song was huge, especially when word got out that Ariana Grande might end up singing it. During your time working together he very blatantly tried to hit on you, which you politely shut down, because one, you didn’t intend to date someone you were working so close with and two, you just simply weren’t into him. However, he couldn’t take rejection the way a mature, almost thirty years old man should. It started off very subtly, but once you’ve had a chat with him to stop posting obnoxious and suggesting things about you on his social media, because it’s making it hard for you to be taken seriously as an artist and that people will just see you as another celeb which you don’t want to be, he just completely lost his shit. He called you different names on Twitter a few times, the worst were Feminist Nazi and a cock teasing slut, and he just somehow never fails to mention that you lied about your intentions with him, when you were clearer than daylight that you didn’t want a thing from him other than work.

When you realized he isn’t going to be stopping anytime soon, you took him to court, dragged his ass in front of the judge and won the case, which ended with him having to pay you thirty thousand dollars and he was ordered to clear all his platforms from your name for good. You really thought that taught him a lesson, especially because against your will, the case got some publicity and he ended up making headlines about the fault accusations he made about you, but it seems like he didn’t have enough.

You wouldn’t worry that much about his new tweet, knowing that he is the one lying, but the trials took a toll on you. It was at the beginning of the time when you were making yourself a name and even though you won, his accusations stung for some people and some even thought him to be the victim. You fell out of two brand deals and an important interview in the upcoming months which was a major setback and all for what? Because a man couldn’t accept rejection? The sad part is that if it would have happened the other way around, he wouldn’t have had to suffer any effect of it, people don’t tend to question a man’s words when he is showing this charming and nice persona to the public. If you accused him the same way you would have been dragged and titled as a sour crybaby and Jordan’s life would have carried on the same way.

The peaceful lunch soon falls through as Taylor turns on her beast mode to at least get the tweet down as soon as possible, already contacting the legal team you worked with before. It has to be against what you agreed on at the end of the trials, he can’t just go around and drag you again without any consequences.

In just about twenty minutes, the tweets disappear from Jordan’s feed, but you know it was already late the moment he posted it. If something gets out on the internet it never goes away, there are probably hundreds if not thousands of screenshots floating around that will preserve his words forever.

You part ways Taylor as he heads to an immediate meeting with the lawyers you worked together previously, she tells you to try not to worry about it, but you can’t just turn it off in you, that’s not how it works.

Making your way home you keep riling yourself up about it, thinking about what it’s gonna cause you this time, what opportunity is going to be taken because a man has called you a lying bitch, even after winning the previous trial against him that proves how big of an asshole he really is.

Changing into a casual attire you head to Harry’s place a little earlier, hoping it’s not a problem you get there an hour before you were supposed to. Arriving you’re a little taken aback seeing that there is another car parking on the driveway that’s not his and you immediately regret coming here, but before you could leave, the front door opens and Harry walks out. You couldn’t have left without noticing, the security system must have signaled your arrival when you punched the opening code in.

“Hey, everything alright?” he asks instead of questioning your early arrival.

“I uhh—I’m sorry for being early, I could go—“

“Don’t be silly, come on in!” he waves at you and you walk up the stairs. “Two friends are here but they were just about to leave soon,” he explains as you walk in.

“Sorry for crashing the party,” you let out a soft chuckle.

“The more the merrier,” he smiles. “You seem a little stressed, everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just… It’s nothing,” you shake your head.

“Oh my God, is that who I think it is?” you hear a woman’s voice from behind and turning around you see a smiley brunette walking towards you, a shy looking guy following behind her.

“Sarah, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Sarah, my drummer, and that wanker over there is Mitch, my guitarist.”

“Nice to meet you.” Shaking hands with both of them you realize they look familiar from pictures you’ve seen from Harry’s tour.

“I saw that ugly tweet today, that guy needs to be kicked in the balls,” Sarah sighs with a sympathetic smile, Harry’s ears perking up.

“What tweet?” he asks, eyes switching between you and Sarah.

“Oh, just… Jordan Wells thinks it’s fine to drag people with absolutely no truth behind his words,” you answer with a tight-lipped smile.

“Jordan Wells? The name rings a bell,” Harry hums.

“He is a music producer,” Mitch chimes in.

“I think he was supposed to write for 1D one time, but the deal fell through. Guess we didn’t miss out on anything,” he jokes and it brings a genuine smile to your face.

“You surely didn’t,” you comment under your breath.

You chat with Sarah and Mitch for a bit before they decide to head out, but Sarah asks you to come around sometime they are hanging out and you gladly say yes, wanting to know her and Mitch better, they seem like great company and even greater musicians, it’s always good to meet people who are like you.

As Harry walks his friends out you make yourself comfortable on the couch, reading Taylor’s texts about the update on the recent actions, she has gotten in contact with Jordan’s team and legal steps will be taken if Jordan doesn’t show any sign of improvement in the very near future.

“Hey, want something to drink? Wine or beer maybe?” Harry walks in as you look up from your phone.

“Wine sounds fucking fantastic,” you breathe out earning a soft chuckle from him. You follow him into the kitchen and watch him get a bottle of white wine with two glasses. “I hope Sarah and Mitch didn’t leave early because of me.”

“Oh, not at all. They knew you’d be coming over and would have left around this time, so don’t worry about it.”

He joins you at the kitchen island with the two glasses handing you one and you take a sip from it with a satisfied hum.

“So, want to talk about this Jordan ordeal?”

“There’s not much to talk, really,” you shrug. “He is a jerk and I just can’t seem to get rid of him and I didn’t even date the guy…”

“What did he do this time?”

“Oh, he just casually called me a lying bitch on Twitter, so that’s fun,” you let out a fake laugh, raising your glass before taking a big swig from it.

“Not that creative, if you’re asking me,” he jokes making you laugh. “It’s a very plain choice of words.”

“Yeah, not as good as his best which was calling me a feminist nazi.”

Harry almost chokes on his wine as you say the words, coughing a little while you watch him with an entertained smirk.

“That’s… an interesting way to express his opinion about you,” he answers diplomatically.

“Right? I was thinking about getting a sign of it, like a Live, Love, Laugh one, in the middle of my living room.”

“Would be a wonderful touch of décor,” he smirks. “Alright, I have a proposal for today’s session.”

“Shoot it.”

“You seemed to enjoy your weed experience the last time, I thought we could give it a try again, but we would try to write this time as well.”

“You want to write while smoking?” you ask raising your eyebrows at him.

“Only if you want to. I just thought it would relax you a bit, might even come up with some interesting ideas for the song.”

“Are you trying to turn me into an addict?” you narrow your eyes at him and he just holds his hands up innocently.

“Told you, no pressure,” he smirks angelically.

“I feel like I’m not even coming here to work but to meet with my new dealer,” you chuckle making him laugh. “Okay, we can… give it a try.”

 An hour and one joint per person later the two of you are lounging in his living room, he is sprawled out on the loveseat with a guitar on his arms while you are curled upon the sectional, fumbling with the strings of your hoodie.

“We should just… fucking steal a song,” you snort, finding your comment hilarious.

“Which one were you thinking about?” Harry smirks your way, his fingers gently strumming some random melody on the instrument.

“I really want to have a Madonna song to be mine,” you sigh dreamily.

“You’re a fan?”

“Oh, I grew up on her. I have an elaborate choreography for Hung Up,” you snort.

“You need to perform it for me.”

“No fucking way,” you laugh shaking your head. “Not even weed can make me dance for you.”

“Come on, I need to see that choreography, you can’t just hint it and then never show it to me!”

“Nah, not happening,” you laugh, sliding lower down in your seat, your head resting against the armrest of the couch.

You listen to him play the same melody over and over again with your eyes closed and though you really like what you are hearing, no words are forming in your mind that could serve as lyrics. Your phone buzzes on the cushion next to you and grabbing it you see a text from Taylor.

Taylor: Lawyers are on the case, we’ll have more tomorrow, don’t stress about it too much. Night! Xx

Sighing you drop the device back next to you, covering your eyes with your arms.

“You alright?” Harry softly asks.

“Nah, I just want to… disappear,” you sigh, tired of this fight you’ve been fighting for way too long.

“Is this about Jordan? He is a fucking ass, most people know it.”

“But not everyone!” you snap throwing your hands up. “And that fraction that still believes that he is saying the truth is enough to ruin my life. I’m fucking fed up with the injustice women have to face because of the patriarchy we are forced to live in!” Pushing yourself up you run a hand through your hair, hugging your knees to your chest. “It’s so fucking upsetting, like everything I do goes straight down the drain because of one little thing and I’m stuck with trying to rebuild my whole future plan.”

From a sudden urge, you move down to the floor, lying down on the fluffy rug that runs under the couches and the glass coffee table. It feels nice, kind of grounding to lie flat on the floor, especially because your senses are all messed up again because of the weed, but in a good kind of way.

“You worry way too much on longterm things. Try to stay in the moment a little more,” Harry tells you, putting the guitar to the side so he can move his feet to the floor, leaning onto his knees. “You can’t control this much what happens in the future, you should only care about today. And today, you’ve done good, you made it through another day, you did what you had to do and that’s it. Stressing about tomorrow or the next week or next year is just way too much to deal with all the time, twenty-four-seven, three-six-five, that’s just no way to live.”

Lying on the floor you stare up at the ceiling seemingly blankly, but your mind starts to swirl over what he just told you. The worlds are running around, mixing and mingling until something starts to form, making you gasp.

“Grab the guitar,” you tell him, sitting up abruptly. He pulls his eyebrows together, but does as you told him to, holding the instrument on his lap as he waits for you to instruct him more. “Play that… that melody you’ve been playing, but a little faster.”

He turns his attention at the guitar, trying the strings out a few times, feeling the melody under his fingers before he starts playing it just how you asked as you slowly start to sing the lines you have just thought about.

“You made it through… another day, you made it through another day… You did it, let’s celebrate…”

The lines fit perfectly with the melody he has come up with and the more you sing, the wider his smile grows as you move along in the forming song.

“Some days you feel you’ll break, but you made it through another day, yeah, you did it, let’s celebrate…”

“Don’t fucking stop!” he chimes in, never stopping the riffs, trying out new things as you go, slowly perfecting it together with the lyrics.

“Twenty-four-seven and three-six-five, you made another day, you made it alive! Made another day made it alive!” You sing loud and clear, completely lost in the melody Harry is playing, the lines just flowing out of you, like a dam has been taken down and now everything washes over you at once.

When the chorus is about to come up however you run out of ideas, your eyes meet Harry’s and he sees that you’re stuck. His eyebrows knit together, tongue runs along his lips before he starts playing the melody of the chorus and takes over the singing as well.

“So today, baby, remember it’s okay! We’re all floating through space, today, baby, remember you’re okay! We’re all floating through space…”

He plays a little with the lines, repeats them, tries a few times before he stops singing, you are now standing up, watching him end the melody, neither of you saying a word as he room grows silent. A sudden urge drives you to go closer and you sit back down to the floor in front of him, your eyes casting over the now silent instrument on his lap. Looking up your eyes meet his and you feel like the air is kicked out of your lungs.

You’ve heard so much about moments when you feel yourself pulling towards someone, when it’s like a magnetic field but you never actually experienced it until now. Staring back at Harry you feel that pull everyone has talked about and you finally understand what they were trying to say. It’s like there’s a string coming from your chest that’s connected to him and he is tugging it without even doing anything.

Reaching forward he tugs a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers dancing down the side of your face as you catch his eyes wander down to your lips. Sucking on your breath you feel the moment, you know what he is thinking about because you think about the exact same thing. Kissing him. You are desperate to find out what his lips feel against yours, what he tastes like, what it’s like to have him so close to you.

“You want to kiss me,” you whisper and it’s not a question, more like an observation.

“I do,” he admits with a soft smile, but doesn’t move closer. “Can I?”

“I don’t think it’s an appropriate thing to do in our situation,” you breathe out, though you don’t agree with the statement fully.

“You think too much,” he chuckles softly, leaning closer just a tad bit, but there are still a few inches between the two of you. “Do you want to kiss me?”

“Yes,” you admit.

“Then we should just do what we want to,” he suggests with a small smirk and he looks ridiculously handsome with his dimples and shining green eyes that are glued to you.

“And then what? We’ll just go on like it never happened or there’s going to be more happening? How are we supposed to—“

You don’t get to finish, because Harry closes the distance between you and him and presses his lips against yours, swallowing the rest of your stammering speech. Whatever doubts and hesitation you felt just a moment ago, it all vanishes into nothing as you melt into his kiss, his lips caressing yours gently, softly capturing them, savoring and tasting you with caution, giving you the chance to pull back anytime, but nothing in your body can make you stop kissing him in this moment.

His palms cup your jaw as you push yourself up, slowly making your way to straddle his lap after he has blindly put the guitar to the side, hands coming to rest on his shoulder for leverage. His other hand grips your waist, pulling you close until your chest is pressed up against his, lips never disconnecting in the kiss.

Kissing him feels like second nature, like it’s not even the first but the hundredth time, but on the other hand, every touch and tiny sparkle is so new and unusual, you’ve never felt like this before.

Harry slowly pulls back, pecking your lips a few more times before he stops, nuzzling his nose against you in an adorable and innocent way that brings a smile to your lips.

“Doesn’t it feel good to just do whatever you feel like doing?” he asks with a soft smile, making you laugh.

“Kind of.”

“Nothing has to change. Or something can, it’s up to you.”

“You are so upsettingly cool and respectful,” you blurt out chuckling and it makes him laugh, his head falling back against the back of the couch.

“I’m sorry, I guess?” he smirks with a shrug.

“See? Respectful!” you grin, your hands moving up to cup his face. The pad of your thumbs gently tap against his dimples that are showing thanks to the wide smile on his lips right now. You can’t stop yourself from leaning down and kissing him again, even though your rational side is trying to make you stop. You just can’t, his lips are screaming to be kissed and who are you to deny that?

You’ve been running errands all day. Following an early meeting you ran to your favorite vintage store to get another armchair for your living room. Then you went grocery shopping because your fridge has been ridiculously empty the past two days and later you had a quick fitting for a few outfits you are supposed to wear in the near future. You’ve ran into a few fans too, having small chit-chats with them, taking photos, so it’s been a busy day.

It’s been a week since you and Harry have kissed and despite your fears, it hasn’t been awkward at all. He didn’t bring it up, but you don’t feel like he is pretending it never happened, which is kind of a great balance. He is giving you just enough time and space to figure out what it really meant to you, because quite frankly, you have no idea.

Obviously, you find him attractive. You’d have to be completely blind to say that he is not handsome and just simply good to look at. You’re attracted to him and not just to his looks, but to his whole persona.

It’s just you’re not sure it’s a smart idea to start anything with the man you’re working with and though you know Harry is nothing like Jordan, part of you is still scared the whole thing will happen all over again if you get involved with another man from the industry.

Workwise, everything is going well. You’ve successfully finished the song you started that ominous evening and have started recording it in Harry’s home studio, working some more on the melody, bringing a lot more into it than just a single guitar. What more, you’ve been coming up with new ideas for other songs, lyrics popping up in either your or Harry’s head and you just keep sharing them with each other, saving them for later once the song for the Grammy’s is done.

Heading back to your place you get a call from Harry, his smiley face appearing on the screen of your face as you accept the call and his accent fills the car through the speakers that are connected to your phone through Bluetooth.

“Hey, hope I’m not calling in the middle of a meeting,” he greets you and you can tell he is smiling.

“No, I’m just on my way home. What’s up?”

“I’m meeting with Sarah and Mitch for dinner tonight, thought you’d like to join us.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude on your time with your friends, I feel like you’ve been spending all your time with me.”

“But I like spending time with you,” he chuckles softly, a blush making its way to your cheeks at his words.

“Are you sure you want me there? What about Sarah and Mitch? I crashed your last meeting with them as well.”

“You didn’t crash anything, Y/N. And I’m positive I want you there, I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t. And just so you know, Sarah asked if you’d be joining us, so I assume they wouldn’t mind it either.”

“Oh, well, okay then. Send me the time and place.”

“Wonderful!” he beams, his enthusiasm making your chest warm.

By the time you arrive home he has already texted you the details and you have just one hour to spare before you have to head out. You opt for a quick shower and an outfit change, switching up your ripped mom jeans and simple t-shirt to one of your favorite jumpsuits. It’s a little baggy, but the waist is cinched in with an inbuilt corset, giving the whole fit a very interesting twist.

Arriving at the restaurant Harry has texted you the address of, the waiter escorts you to the terrace at the back that’s a lot more secluded and you feel yourself relaxing that you probably won’t get photographed. Harry is the only one who is already at the table, sitting with his eyes fixed on his phone, but he immediately puts it aside when he sees you approaching, a wide smile stretching across his face.

“Hey! You look amazing!” he greets you pulling you into a quick hug.

“Thank you,” you smile shyly. He is wearing a pair of brown slacks, a simple white shirt tucked into it, a knitted cardigan thrown on, a typical Harry outfit. “And thanks for the invite,” you add as you take the seat next to him, assuming Sarah and Mitch would like to sit next to each other.

“Don’t even mention it. We’re friends, it’s really nothing. I’m glad you could make it.”

The way he called you friends is giving you mixed feelings. Part of you is happily jumping up and down at the fact that he considers you as a friend, given how you don’t have many of those. It’s been hard opening up to anyone since you’ve made a name for yourself, you’ve ran into occasions a lot when people wanted more than just your friendship from you and it made you rather closed off when it comes to making friends.

On the other hand, you can’t help but feel a little disappointed. Is that all you are? Just friends? More importantly, is that all you want to be, or more?

Sarah and Mitch arrive soon after, joining you at the table and the waiter takes the orders before leaving the four of you alone. It seems like they genuinely like it that you’ve joined, so you can enjoy the evening a little more relieved.

Sipping on some amazing wine, you eat and talk and you feel like you’ve known these people your whole life. You especially like Sarah, she is so open-minded and funny and you think they make a great couple with Mitch who is obviously more closed off, but it’s obvious how much he worships his girlfriend.

Sometime in the evening, when you’ve already had two glasses of Chardonnay and you’re feeling a lot more relaxed and comfortable, you move closer to Harry without even noticing, leaning against him gently and his hand rests on your knee, giving it a soft squeeze under the table, making you want to move even closer to him to feel more of his touch, to get more of him.

Neither Sarah, nor Mitch questions the two of you being a little cozier and you’re thankful for the safe and stressfree environment they are providing, not making you overthink what you do, just letting you enjoy the moment.

At the end of the evening, you can’t shake the thought that you don’t want to say goodbye to Harry just yet. He pays for everyone’s dinner, leaving a generous tip for the waiter and you stay back at the table while Sarah runs out to the restroom and Mitch takes a quick call from his father, leaving you alone with Harry. His hand is still resting on your leg, a little farther up, but still in a very safe zone in the middle of your thigh.

Turning to face him your eyes meet his, his green irises glistening in the soft lighting and he looks so beautiful, you just want to kiss him again.

“Do you have plans after this?” you find yourself asking.

“Not that I know of.”

“Do you want to come over to my place?”

“That sounds like a nice plan,” he smiles at you warmly and you just know that if you weren’t out in the public, he would have leant in for a kiss and you wouldn’t have stopped him.

When Sarah and Mitch return all four of you head out and they don’t question when you follow Harry to his car. They say goodbye and Sarah makes you promise to join them some other time too and you happily say yes to the invitation.

Not much is being said on the way back to your place, he plays some music quietly as you navigate him through the streets.  

“Welcome to mi casa,” you smile as you key the two of you into your apartment you’ve been living in for the past few years.

It’s nothing luxurious, just a tad bit bigger than what one person would need as a home. You would have been fine living in your previous home you lived in before you’ve gained fame, but you needed a much bigger closet so you were forced to move. It’s a two bedroom apartment with one big bathroom, an open concept kitchen and a spacious living room. And of course, a closet as big as your bedroom. It’s the perfect size and you haven’t even thought about buying a bigger place just because you can, it would be a waste of money and space. The interior is very much vintage with all your mismatched furniture and colorful walls, but you think it’s quite cozy and just the ideal space for you.

“Would you like something to drink?” you ask, walking into the kitchen to get yourself some water.

“Some water would be great, thank you.”

Filling up two glasses you hand him one as you lean against the counter, silently eyeing each other. It should be clear to him that you had intentions with asking him to come over, especially after being your cozy with each other during dinner, but you’re a little lost in what you should or even want to do. You just know you want him close.

He drinks up his water, his eyes meeting your gaze as a small smirk tugs on his cherry lips.

“You want to kiss me,” he states, using the exact same words you used the night when you kissed for the first time.

“I do,” you nod, feeling a little breathless.

“Then do it,” he simply answers, making you smile.

“Cool and respectful, as always,” you grin at him as he moves closer, stopping just a few inches away from you, your feet almost touching. Reaching up his fingers gently caress the side of your face and you feel yourself already melting under his touch.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, a shiver running down your spine at his words. You close your eyes for a moment, giving yourself the chance to pull out of it, but you realize you don’t want that, not even the tiniest bit. Opening your eyes they meet with his gaze before you move closer, closing the distance between you and him, lips meeting in a warm and chaste kiss.

Though it grows a little hungrier, you can tell he is still holding back a little, giving you the chance to stop whenever you want to, but you don’t intend to. Pushing yourself closer to him, your arms curl around his neck as his hands grip your waist, your tongue meeting his as you deepen the kiss and melt into his embrace.

Pulling back you grab his hand and head to the bedroom, going back to kissing him the moment you reach it. You easily slide his cardigan off his broad shoulders, pulling his t-shirt out of his pants before taking it completely off, throwing it somewhere to the side. You smirk against his lips, hands wandering down his naked chest and you can’t push down a moan as you feel the warmth of his chest muscles under your touch.

When you feel him try to blindly figure out how to get you out of your jumpsuit with not much luck and this clears your head for a moment to realize what is about to happen. Pulling back your gaze meets his and he stares back at you with caution, ready to stop whenever you tell him to, but that’s not what made you pull back.

“Harry, I…” “We don’t have to do anything,” he softly tells you, his fingers dancing down the side of your face until they reach your chin and he pulls you in for a delicate and slow kiss.

“I want to,” you whisper. “It’s just that… I want you to know that I’ve never… I’ve never been with a man before.”

Searching in his eyes you look for any sign of what’s going on in his head wishing you could just simply read his thoughts.

“You’ve never been with a man?” he asks, seemingly not as surprised as you expected him to be. You nod, licking your lips, waiting for any kind of reaction, a part of you expecting to be upset, though you know he has no right to be mad at you for any of it. “Do you want me to be the first man?” he then asks, with a loving and warm smile as his hand on your hip pulls you against him playfully.

“Yes.”

“Then help me get you out of this jumpsuit, because I can’t figure it out for my life,” he chuckles making you laugh too.

You show him where the corset opens and then get you out of it with joined forces, finally leaving you standing in just your underwear. Harry’s gaze runs down your body, a look of hunger and passion shining through his green irises as he pulls you close again, kissing you with a lot more vigor this time.

Soon enough, his slacks slip to the floor and you climb to your bed, Harry following closely, climbing on top of you before rejoining your lips. Your knees open up wide for him, allowing him to sink his hips between your thighs, his crotch meeting your heated center, a moan slipping out your lips when you feel his erection rubbing against you through the material of your underwear. He kisses his way down your jawline and neck, gently sucking on the soft skin, peppering kisses along your collarbones before he reaches your chest. He easily unclasps your bra and slips the straps down your arms before getting rid of the barrier that’s been keeping him away from your naked chest.

“Fuck, Y/N, you are so damn beautiful,” he breathes out shakily, before his lips wrap around your right nipple, his hand cupping your other breast. You keep whining and whimpering as you feel his tongue swirl around your nipple before his mouth moves over to the other breast, giving it just the same amount of attention.

He kisses down your stomach, glancing up at you as he hooks his fingers into the elastic of your panties silently asking for your permission to go further, still so respectfully looking out for you. As an answer, you lift your hips up so he can easily slide the material down your legs and throw it to the side.

“Oh fuck!” you moan when his tongue and lips press against your bud, playing with it oh so perfectly, making you shudder. If you didn’t think Harry was perfect, his tongue work is now surely making a statement on that.

With every lick, kiss and suck he pushes you closer to your release that’s nearing in a fast pace like never before. Reaching down you lace your fingers through his chocolate curls, tugging on the lightly, making him moan against your core. You’re not sure how long you’ll last, but you want to cum with him inside you, so you pull him up, lips meeting again as you still taste your own juice on him. It’s heavenly.

Without breaking the kiss you reach down and into his underwear, palming his fully hard cock, earning a satisfied growl when you wrap your hand around him. The feeling is quite unknown, you’ve only once had to face a penis before, it happened back in high school when you were still figuring out what sexuality meant to you. Gave a wobbly and quite short handjob to a guy from the grade above you, never even talked to him again. The experience left a major effect on you, never even got close to being intimate with a man, but being with Harry now is putting everything into a whole new light.

“Do you have a condom?” he mumbles against your lips, clearly just as excited to carry on as you are.

“Yeah,” you nod and let go of him, rolling to the edge of the bed so you can dig into the drawer of your nightstand, successfully finding the little silver packet. Tearing it open you hand it over to Harry and get back to your previous position as you watch him kneeling up, rolling the condom on carefully. Your lips part when your eyes fall on his cock, seeing now how big he really is. Harry catches your eyes and leaning down he kisses you softly.

“Tell me if it hurts and I’ll stop, okay?” he kindly tells you, but you smile at him coyly.

“You might be the first man I’m with, but your dick won’t be the first thing to be inside me,” you answer with a smug smirk and it brings an amused look to his face.

“You are so fucking hot,” he murmurs, pressing his lips against yours in a hard kiss as he settles himself back between your legs.

Though you really tried to sound confident the other moment, you still feel a little nervous about it and Harry senses it right away. Holding himself up on one arm he cups your face in his other, kissing you slowly, taking his time with his lips, as if he is trying to make you forget about everything else but his lips.

“Are you still sure about this?” he softly asks, looking for any sign of hesitation in your eyes, but there’s none.

“Yeah, I want this. I want you,” you nod and reaching down between your bodies, you take him in your hands again, positioning him to your center.

Harry captures your lips in another passionate kiss as he pushes into you slowly, filling you up inch by inch. You gasp at the sensation, feeling a little tight around him, but not in an uncomfortable way.

“You alright?” he asks once he is almost fully in.

“Yeah, go ahead,” you breathe out with a small nod. He pecks your lips and slowly pushes all the way in before he starts to move out and then slide in again, picking up a not too fast but still firm pace with his movements.

You gradually get used to the feeling of him sliding in and out of you, it’s surely a whole different experience than using a dildo or any kind of toy you are used to. The thought that it belongs to him is bringing you a sense of intimacy you haven’t felt in a long time.

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you dig your fingers into his hot skin that’s coated with a thin layer of sweat as he keeps moving, slowly picking up his pace as you both get closer to the endgame.

“Harry, faster, please!” you plead, legs coming to wrap around his waist so he can thrust in deeper, making you go completely nuts from the way your orgasm is already forming in the pit of your tummy.

He obeys without a second thought, slamming into you faster and harder, making you continuously moan his name, the room is filled with moans and panting, the slapping noise of his hips meeting yours.

Harry buries his face into the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking on the soft skin, definitely leaving a mark, but you couldn’t care less. You just grab a handful of his hair, shutting your eyes closed as you feel yourself nearing the end.

“Harry, I’m gonna cum,” you pant, barely hanging on.

Instead of stretching it out and trying to play with you, Harry clearly wants you to combust. Reaching down between your bodies his index and middle fingers find your clit and he starts circling on it, adding that little extra you needed to fall over the edge.

Moaning and whimpering under his massive body, your orgasm washes over you in waves, bringing you such an intense satisfaction you’ve never felt before. He keeps up his thrusting and just a few moments later his movements fall out of his rhythm and mumbling your name over and over again, he gasps as he rides his high while you’re still trying to catch your breath following your own.

With a heaving chest Harry rolls off of you, gets rid of the condom and throws it to the small bin you keep next to your night stand and then lies flat beside you as you both just silently stare up at the ceiling, very much in the best kind of after sex haze.

“How are you feeling?” he then asks, rolling to his side, his hand coming to rest on your bare stomach. Turning your head to the side you crack a smile at him.

“I feel like I’ve just been properly fucked,” you bluntly answer, making him laugh wholeheartedly. Rolling to your side his arm falls to your waist as you scoot closer, your face only a few inches from his. He is so pretty up close, his features never fail to amuse you, hard to believe he is a real human, lying right next to you.

He closes his eyes a little, letting his head sink into the pillow as his fingers delicately dance up and down your side and back. You feel like you owe him to say something, dropping a major detail about yourself in a heated moment.

“I had two girlfriends,” you speak up, his eyes fluttering open to your words. “The first one was when I was eighteen, we dated for almost a year, then I briefly dated a guy, but it was barely just a month. And I had my second girlfriend when I was twenty. We were together for two years.”

“Are you still friends with them?”

“I still talk to the second one. Her name is Mila. We broke up because she moved to Spain for a job for a year and we didn’t want to do long-distance. Then we just… grew apart, but we still talk sometimes. She lives in Atlanta now, she has a girlfriend and she told me that she is planning to propose soon.”

A soft smile tugs on your lips as you talk about her. She was an important person in your life in a time that was truly challenging. Mila supported your dreams, she went to a lot of your concerts and she was the first one you called when you got your record deal even though you weren’t together anymore. She has seen you go from performing in dodgy bars to rocking the stage of arenas.

“Congrats to her,” Harry smiles through tired eyes. Reaching up he tucks your hair behind your ear before leaning closer he envelopes your lips in a soft kiss.

“We really shouldn’t have done this,” you hum, though you can’t wipe the satisfied smile off your lips.

“Why not?”

“Because we work together.”

“So what? We aren’t allowed to like each other?” he smirks cockily.

“You like me?”

“Thought I made that pretty clear,” he chuckles rubbing his eyes. “But yeah, I do like you, Y/N. A lot.”

“I… like you too,” you admit shyly. Leaning in he kisses you again before pulling you to his chest as he lies on his back.

“Can I stay the night or you want to throw me out?” he hums closing his eyes. Chuckling your snuggle to him, making yourself comfortable, enjoying the warmth of his body after so spending so many nights alone in this bed.

“You can stay, but you have to behave.”

“Oh I will behave my best, don’t worry.” A chuckle rumbles through his chest as you both fall silent and soon enough, drift off to sleep.

You wake up tangled in the sheets, but no one else is lying in bed with you. Blinking the sleep out of your eyes you look around and though there’s no sign of Harry in the room you spot his clothes on the floor. That’s when you hear the pots and pans clinking somewhere outside and you smile to yourself. You pull a t-shirt on with a pair of clean panties before heading out, finding Harry in your kitchen, wearing your pink fluffy robe and nothing else as he is making what seems to be pancakes.

“I don’t remember hiring a chef,” you joke walking closer, sliding a hand down his back as you lean against the counter next to the stove.

“Good morning,” he smiles. “I really wanted for you to wake up but I was afraid my growling stomach might wake you up,” he chuckles as he flips the pancakes in the pan with the spatula.

“Found everything you needed?” you ask, walking over the fridge to grab the orange juice.

“Yeah, you have a neatly organized kitchen,” he hums. “Sorry for snooping around though.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Pouring the juice to two glasses you hand one to him which he thanks softly before placing the golden pancakes to the plate on the counter and pours another bunch into the pan.

Sipping on your juice you watch him move around, making breakfast in your robe and you can’t help but smile at the sight of this fine man in your kitchen. Harry catches you eyeing him and he cocks an eyebrow at you.

“What’s gotten you so smiley?” he asks, his voice still a little groggy and husky.

“I just… really want to kiss you,” you shrug placing the glass to the counter.

“I think we are over this whole asking for permission thing,” he smirks, stepping closer he leans down and kisses you gently, tasting like orange juice and something sweet, he has probably ate one of the pancakes. His hand that’s not holding the spatula finds your waist, the t-shirt bunches up on your side as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss before you hear sizzling coming from the stove.

“Whoops, not trying to burn the place down,” he chuckles as he turns to the pan and flips the pancakes. You wrap your arms around his waist and kiss his jawline before stepping away from him to set the table for breakfast.

“Do you have any plans this weekend?” he asks over breakfast.

“I have a meeting with my label on Saturday, but nothing else.”

“I’m having a few friends over Saturday evening, kind of a late Grammy nomination celebration. Want to come over?”

“Yeah, that… sounds good,” you nod smiling.

“I was thinking that maybe you could spend the night and then we can finish recording on Sunday.”

“Alright, I’m in.”

Harry takes a quick shower after breakfast before heading out, promising to call you later and though it still feels a little odd that he says goodbye with a kiss, you very much like this new setup between the two of you.

Friday evening Taylor is over at your place, she loves helping you sort out promo stuff you get sent all the time, especially because you let her take whatever you don’t want, half her closet was meant to be worn by you.

Sitting on the floor with boxes surrounding the both of you, you’re digging through them with a bottle of wine, some 90’s music playing in the background, it’s a nice and relaxing evening.

Your phone lights up with a text on the coffee table and you already know it’s from Harry. You haven’t stopped texting since he left from your place just a few days ago.

Harry: Do you think it’s a look for the Grammy’s?

He attached a photo of himself in all denim, looking very much like 2001 Justin Timberlake at the AMA.

Y/N: Should I match and pull a Britney?

Harry: Is that even a question?!

“Okay, who’s the girl?” Taylor asks, making you tear your eyes away from the phone’s screen.

“Huh?”

“Last time I saw you smiling like this at your phone you were talking to that girl you met at that award show. So who is it this time?”

“It’s… not a girl,” you admit, placing your phone back to the coffee table.

“Oh, did a guy finally manage to sweep you off your feet?” Taylor gives you an amused look, genuinely surprised to hear that this time it’s a guy that has you wrapped around his finger. “What is his name?”

“Harry,” you shortly answer and see her eyes widen.

“Wait, is it… Harry as in Harry Styles?”

“Yeah,” you admit with a soft chuckle.

“Oh my God, I knew I could feel some sexual tension between you two at Jeff’s office!”

“There wasn’t any, what are you talking about?”

“You didn’t see it because you were too busy trying to blow off the duet, but it was radiating from him.” She gives you a look, putting the sweater she’s been examining to the side. “So, how are things? Are you guys an item, or…?”

“We didn’t label anything, he just said he likes me and I like him too. And he… spent the night the other day.”

“Wait, what? Spent the night as in—“

“Yes, we had sex,” you confirm blushing.

“That’s like huge! The first man you’ve been with!”

“I know,” you chuckle.

“How was it?”

“Fucking amazing,” you truthfully admit with a sigh. “I didn’t think it could be this good with a guy. Maybe it’s just because it was with him.”

“He surely looks like a guy that takes good care of his girl. So what’s gonna happen? Are you guys together?”

“I don’t know. He doesn’t seem to care about names and labels, he just likes to do whatever he wants and if I’m being honest it’s kind of refreshing. We are just… enjoying whatever we have.”

“That sounds very liberal,” Taylor chuckles. “But I’m happy for you. You’ve been alone for way too long, I think he might do good to you.”

“I really hope,” you nod with a sigh.

“How is the song writing going?”

“We’re finishing up recording on Sunday. I’ll send it to you when it’s done and we can start all the paperwork and everything.”

“Amazing, you are doing great, Y/N, I’m proud of you,” she smiles and climbing over she wraps you in a tight hug.

“Thanks, Tay,” you smile at her. “Alright, now do you want these lace socks or should I burn them?” you ask holding up a whole pack of them, making her laugh.

Harry said it’s just a chill get together, nothing fancy so you decide to wear a khaki maxi skirt with a shirt tucked into it that was a gift from a fan, your first album’s name embroidered to the front. It’s one of your favorite pieces and you like wearing things your fans make you, gives the whole fit a plus.

Arriving to Harry’s place you spot that there are a few cars already parking on the driveway. You leave your overnight bag in the trunk, grab the bottle of wine you’ve brought and head inside. Unlike every time you’ve been here, the silence is now switched up with soft music and chatters, quite a few people lingering around the house already.

Just as you walk farther inside, Harry appears on the stairs and his face lights up at the sight of you.

“Hey! Did you just arrive?” He jogs down the rest of the stairs and walking up to you he pulls you close for a quick kiss without hesitation.

“Yeah. I know you said not to bring anything, but I hate coming to parties empty handed,” you chuckle softly, holding the wine bottle up.

“Thanks. Have you eaten? Jeff is grilling outside, but help yourself with anything.”

“I’ll be fine, thanks.”

“Sarah and Mitch are already here, but come on, let me introduce you to a few people.”

Harry takes your hand, lacing your fingers together with his. He drops the wine off in the kitchen before joining all the other guests. It’s really not that many people, just about thirty of his close circle. Musicians, people he has worked with and stayed close with, people he has known for long. Everyone seems welcoming and open, many already know who you are and it’s always a good conversation start, so there are not many awkward silences, especially because Harry is always near you, making sure you feel comfortable around his friends and it means a lot to you.

“Hey, everything alright?” Harry asks, when he finds you in the kitchen, refilling your glass. He walks up to you, placing a hand to your waist as he kisses into your hair.

“Yeah, your friends are nice,” you smile at him.

“I know, that’s why they are my friends,” he smirks, so full of himself. “Want to hear something interesting?”

“Always.”

“I was talking to Adam and our song came up and then out of nowhere I referred to you as my girlfriend.”

Seemingly he is testing the waters, trying to see how you react to the title, even a little afraid of what you might say, but it doesn’t scare you.

“Yeah? That’s interesting indeed.”

“Are you okay with it? I wasn’t really thinking about it, just slipped out.”

“It’s fine,” you smile at him softly.

“You don’t have to call me your boyfriend, call me whatever you want. It’s just a habit of mine, I guess,” he explains, popping some nuts into his mouth from the little jar on the counter.

“Alright,” you nod. Harry stares back at you for a moment before a smile stretches across his face and leaning down he kisses you shortly before taking your hand and walking back to the living room with you.

The last guests leave around midnight. After bringing your bag up to his bedroom you start cleaning up while Harry walks out the last couple leaving. You start loading the washer and put away things you’ve cleaned before.

“Oh, thank you for cleaning, but you don’t have to. I can take care of it later.”

“It’s nothing, I want to make myself useful,” you chuckle softly as you start the washer. Harry comes up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he kisses into your neck.

“I have other ideas for that,” he murmurs, his nose nudging the side of your face.

“Yeah? What kind of ideas?” you teasingly ask, closing your eyes when you feel his hand slide under the waist of your skirt, moving down your abdomen until it reaches your core.

“Fun kinds,” he chuckles lowly. His other hand turns your head so his lips could meet yours, you’re still pressed up against him, melting against his chest with your back just right, like you’re two puzzle pieces.

“Fuck,” you breathe out when his fingers wander into your underwear and they start doing their magic. “Harry!” you whine, reacting intensely to his actions.

“I fucking love hearing my name from your pretty mouth,” he growls, kissing you hard before his lips part from yours and he starts bunching up your skirt.

You don’t protest, in fact, you lean forward, grabbing onto the edge of the counter as he pulls down your panties and you hear the zipper of his pants. Glancing over your shoulders you see him pull out a condom from his pocket and you can’t push down a laughter.

“Did you keep that in your pocket all evening?”

“Wanted to be ready when I finally got you all for myself,” he smirks, pulling his cock out of his boxer briefs, rolling on the condom.

His hands come in contact with your hips and ass cheeks, giving them a light squeeze before you feel him lining himself up with you. His palm slides up your back as he pushes into you, both of you moaning at the fulfilling sensation.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” he breathes out as he pushes all the way inside before starting to pull out.

“Go hard, Harry. Please!” you whimper as he starts thrusting into you. Harry lets out a growl and slams into you, making you gasp at the harshness of the movement, but that’s exactly what you wanted.

The kitchen is filled with the noises coming from the washer next to you and the slapping noise of Harry’s hips meeting your ass with every forceful thrust he makes. His ring clad fingers dig into your hips, probably already making them red, but you couldn’t care less. You hold onto the edge of the counter, but then you move one hand to cover his on you, needing to touch him in some kind of way.

Leaning forward Harry kisses your back between your shoulder blades through the thin material of your shirt and you moan his name when he hits the perfect spot inside you.

“Shit, Harry! I’m g-gonna cum!” you gasp, perking your ass up more so he can go as deep as possible.

“Let go for me, baby. Come on!”

“I want to cum with you.”

“Yeah? Then hold on for a little longer, I’m almost there.”

You try your best to keep everything inside you under control, your orgasm is really on the edge and you can only hope he is nearing his end too.

“Harry! Please!”

“Fuck, okay, okay, cum for me! Let me feel you!” he moans and his words bring you the release.

You clench around him, moaning and whimpering and it finally pushes you into his bliss too. His thrusts slow down but they are hard and go deep, helping you ride the last bits of your high.

He pulls out and gets rid of the condom before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you up from your position so he can kiss your lips.

“How about we take a shower while the washer finishes?” he suggests, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Mm, good idea.”

Once the song is fully finished you submit it to your label after an agreement that it should come out through yours, but it wouldn’t be tied to your or Harry’s upcoming album. Everyone seems to love it, Taylor is over the moon when you show her the final version and Jeff is just as happy about it. Having only three more weeks left until the Grammy’s, you send them your request to perform the duet instead of the medley they asked. Their answer comes the next day and they are more than happy to have you premiere your new duet at the show. Everything seems to be on track.

Following a rehearsal for the Grammy performance, you’re staying over at Harry’s, just eating takeout and having a lazy evening after a whole day of working. You’ve put on a new Netflix movie, but every time you look at Harry you feel like his mind is somewhere far away.

“Want to share what’s on your mind?” you ask softly, not wanting to be pushy, you’re just trying to be there for him.

“I’ve just been thinking.”

“About what?” He looks up at you, clearly hesitant whether he should share it with you or not.

“About what you said about your parents.”

“Oh,” is all you can say. Pausing the movie you turn all your attention to him. “What about it?”

“I was just talking to my mom the other day, she is coming here for the Grammy’s and I thought about how you… won’t have your parents there with you.”

“There’s a reason for that.”

“Yeah, but then I thought about how you said you haven’t even let them contact you since then and that maybe they’ve changed their mind about the whole situation. You’ve clearly proved them wrong with building yourself a career, maybe they can now see that what they did was wrong.”

You remain silent, chewing on his words. You’ve been great at not thinking about your parents these past years, it feels weird to have a conversation about them out of nowhere. Harry takes your silence as a warning sign, though that’s not the case.

“You know what? I’m sorry for bringing it up. It’s not really my business, I shouldn’t have brought it up, sorry,” he shakes his head.

“What… would you do if you were in my place?”

Harry looks at you, surprised you are willing to continue the conversation. His hand finds your thigh and he gives it a gentle squeeze.

“I think it might worth a shot to just… contact them. See if they want to maybe get in touch again.”

“And what if they don’t?”

“Then… you know you made the right decision leaving. I know it’s scary, but I think you should take a chance.”

“I’ll… think about it,” you nod shortly.

“Take your time, do whatever you feel comfortable with.” He pulls you into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you get comfortable in his embrace before starting the movie again.

Two weeks before the show you are headed to a fitting with Harry, your matching sets are nearly done, but they needed you to try them on and make sure they fit just perfectly. True to your and Harry’s extravagant fashion, this performance won’t lack any over the top fits either. It was clear from the beginning that you would be matching, but you made it clear that you want to bring it to the level where you’d be wearing the exact same outfit, so now there are two sets of suits in the making, the pattern of the whole two piece is recalling a kind of space vibe, blues, purples and black meeting in the colors with hundreds of embroidered stars and planets littering the fabric with additional crystal stars to make it even more extra. It’s truly one of a kind, especially paired with the sheer, tulle shirt you both will be wearing underneath.

“We look fucking great, babe,” Harry smirks as the two of you stand next to each other, examining yourself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror on the small podium.

“We really do,” you smirk, satisfied with how the performance is coming together. It’s gonna be the perfect way to celebrate both your first Grammy nominations, a huge milestone in your and Harry’s career as well.

Grabbing his phone he quickly takes a picture in the mirror of the two of you, pulling you to his side as you smile into the camera through the mirror. Then you leave him alone on the podium as they are pinning his pants to make it the perfect size. Stepping to your bag you fish your phone out and reading just the first few words of Taylor’s last message she sent about ten minutes ago, you feel all blood rushing out of your face. Tapping on the notification you start reading.

Taylor: Please don’t lose your head, but we are dealing with this.

She attached several articles and you start digging through them.

“Is Harry Styles dating his new duet partner?”

“Harry Styles cozied up with Y/N Y/L/N at dinner with friends.”

“Can we expect some hot make out sessions at the Grammy’s from Harry and his new beau?”

And then there’s the absolute worst.

“Is Y/N Y/L/N going to take Harry Styles to court too?”

“Shit, shit, shit,” you mumble under your breath, vigorously typing back to Taylor to take them down. Two pictures have been leaked from the time you had dinner with Sarah and Mitch, it’s so odd because it’s been weeks since then, where were these pictures all along? Not that it matters, all you want is for them to be gone.

Against your better judgment, you go online and check your social media even though you know you shouldn’t snoop around now that it’s out there. No surprise, you and Harry are trending, but the reactions are very much mixed.

The impact of your case with Jordan is still major. It doesn’t matter that you won, people are still questioning whether he said the truth or not and now they are afraid you might drag Harry down just like you did with Jordan. That you are just trying to use his fame to get more attention and then ruin his career, making a victim out of yourself again, because apparently that’s what you’ve been doing.

You’re not only being dragged, but all of a sudden, nothing is about the music and the art you are making, people just want to know if you’re fucking Harry Styles or not. A lot of the times you’re not even named, only referred to Harry’s new lover or what’s worse, his hookup. You’ve lost all the credit you worked so hard for and for what? Because you dared to have dinner with a man?

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Harry asks walking up to you. Your eyes snap up at him and he immediately sees the shock and anger in them, setting panic in him as well. “What is it?”

“The fucking… pictures,” you hiss handing him your phone so he can see the articles for himself. He scrolls through them with furrowed eyebrows, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip before handing the phone back once he has gotten to the end of it.

“Let’s finish this up and head home, okay? We’ll figure it all out.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and you nod, trying your best to keep your anger at bay while the designers finish up on the outfits.

An hour later you walk into your place, talking on the phone with Taylor, discussing the situation though there’s not much you can do at this point. It’s all out, the pictures can’t be taken down. She suggests to just keep quiet for now, she’ll call Jeff to see what could be done as damage control.

Throwing your phone to the bed you feel your whole body shaking from the anger, it’s agonizing to know there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine. We’ll figure it out,” Harry speaks up, trying his best to calm you down, but it’s not really working this time.

“Stop saying it, you don’t know that for sure. I can’t believe this bullshit is happening all over again,” you breathe out shaking your head.

“Again?”

“Yes! I’m being fucking dragged for something I shouldn’t be.”

“People will always have controversial opinion on everything, you can’t get them all to like you.”

“It’s not about liking, Harry!” you snap. “I couldn’t give a damn about people liking me, but they discredit my work. Have you read those articles? I’m seen with a man and suddenly, I’m not even seen as an artist anymore. I’m not even my own person in some of them, just a girl who is linked to you. How is that fair?” “It’s not, but stressing yourself about it until you’re sick is not gonna help anything,” he retorts in a firm voice.

“So I should just sit around and so nothing while watching all my work go to shit?”

“Nothing is going to shit! This is how it goes, there’s always something people talk about but they will forget about it in a week. That doesn’t take anything away from what you’ve proved through your career.”

“Now that’s a lie. Because if they did forget about things in a week, they wouldn’t be bringing up the whole Jordan thing now. I dared to stand up for myself against a man and look where it took me to! I’m the drama queen, the lying bitch who likes to ruin men for apparently no reason and they see me as a threat when it comes to you too. People are talking about how I’ll take you to court as well, they think I’m just using you even though they know nothing about me! And the worst part is that it wouldn’t be like this if I weren’t a woman. Whatever happens, however we react to the situation, it will never have the same effect on your career than it will have on mine.”

“So what, you’ll just live your life without ever doing anything that’s gonna upset people? There will always be someone who’ll judge whatever you do, you can’t do anything about that and if you let them get to you now, they’ll know they can mess with you easily.”

“So I’m just supposed to ignore everything? And not do a single thing about it? It’s easy for you, you’ll walk away from this without a scratch on your name, because you are a white man who can do no wrong in the eyes of the world.”

“Okay, now you are being mean for no reason.”

“I’m telling you the truth,” you retort. “And you know what else is part of the truth? That I’m not even having it the worse. There are women who are even more targeted because of their religion, their skin color, their nationality or sexuality and people don’t even realize how hard it is for any of us. I’m sick of the injustice we have to live with just because of our gender!”

“I do acknowledge the problem on hand, I’m aware of it and I’m all for doing against it, but we are not gonna solve it instantly, it’s a long process. Sometimes we just have to pull back a little, be smart about things.”

“They will never stop about this,” you shake your head, stubbornly clinging onto your opinion. “I won’t be seen as a serious artist anymore, just some girl who was linked to you. It’s fucking done, over.”

“Y/N, what are you trying to say?” Harry asks with caution.

“Exactly what you are thinking about,” you reply with a bitter laugh. “I can’t be a respected artist if I’m with you.”

“That’s not true. It will die down, they will see that you are more than just who you’re dating and everything will be fine.”

“What’s not fair is that I have to work for it to be fine while you are still the same artist you were before it all blew up. Don’t you think it’s unfair?” you call him out and part of you knows you’re being mean and unnecessarily rude to him, but you just can’t control it any longer. You need to let it out and unfortunately, he is the one who is here to take the blame.

“It is, but what are you expecting me to do about it? Release a statement asking people to only talk about my dating life to make it equal? What can be done is that we try to fight this together, show them that you’re more than just a woman who is linked to a man in any kind of way.”

“Yeah, like realization is just gonna hit them,” you snap. “I’m at a turning point in my career, Harry. Whether I win a Grammy or not, this time is going to have an impact on my future. If I’m seen as just a girl linked to you, I’ll never make it. I’ll be forgotten and dragged again and I can kiss my career goodbye.”

You know you were way too harsh, but it’s what you think to be the truth. You didn’t fight your way to this point in life just to be seen as a man’s girlfriend rather than the artist you truly are. And right now, you can’t see yourself get out of this situation without letting go of Harry.

“Y/N, please don’t let this ruin what we have. We can get through this, you can’t let them control your life this much. Who are they to tell you what to do? That’s not the Y/N I know, come on!”

He tries to step closer, reaching out for you, but you take a step back, wanting to keep the distance between the two of you.

“I would prefer to be alone now,” you sternly say, folding your arms on your chest, closing yourself off from him as you don’t even look at him, because if you did, you know you would break.

“Y/N, please don’t do this, we—“

“Alone!” you snap, cutting him off.

He stares at you, hoping you might change your mind, but you’re quite set on this. He knows you well enough to know you won’t budge anytime soon. He lets out a shaky breath and slowly turning around, he heads towards the door as you’re already fighting your tears back. He stops right before he is about to walk out.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N,” he quietly says before walking out, the door shutting closed behind him.

The sobs start immediately and you fall to the ground, tears soaking your cheeks, already missing him more than anything in your life. You really thought it would be different this time, that things might get better, but you were naïve.

The next two days go by in a blur. The whole fucking internet is filled with those damn pictures of you and Harry, nothing has been about any of your Grammy nominations or even about your music, you’ve officially became the woman Harry Styles is dating.

Harry was titled as a Grammy nominee in every goddamn writing that surfaced, he was completely credited for his work while you could be happy if your name was written correctly. With every new article, your faith in having the career you worked so hard for lessened until you felt hopeless. You’ve officially became a dumb celebrity, just a woman who was known to be dating a man in the industry.

On the evening of the second day you have enough. You just read yet another degrading piece of you that was clearly written by a man, they once again talked about your case with Jordan, joking about history repeating itself and you swear you could scream and throw a tantrum like a baby at how useless and helpless you feel.

You put your laptop to the side and reach for your phone, dialing Taylor’s number.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” she asks right away, knowing well how hard these past days have been. She came over the evening you sent Harry away and tried to comfort you, but nothing could help you that night.

“Hey, I want to ask you to do something and not try to talk me out of it.”

“Oh God…” she sighs, already knowing you’re about to do something stupid according to her.

“I don’t want to perform at the Grammy’s.”

“What? With all due respect, are you fucking stupid?”

“I’m not stupid. But I don’t want to do it.”

“Well, this has got to be the most ridiculous move you’ve ever tried to pull. Why do you want to throw such a huge thing away?”

“I can’t… sing that song with Harry. If I stand on the stage and sing with him… I just can’t do it, Tay.”

“Of course you can! Suck it up! I know you miss him and it fucking sucks what’s happening, but you have to do it!” she tries to convince you, but you’ve already made your mind up.

“No. I’m not doing it. Please let them know that it’s going to be just Harry performing.”

And with that, you end the call.

Taylor knows better than to try to fight you, she doesn’t call back though you know she wants to murder you right now probably, but she’ll come around, she always does. You make yourself a tea hoping to relax your nerves with it though you know nothing can help you now. You wish you had someone to rely on, someone you could talk to right now, but usually Taylor is that person to you and lately Harry has been your support, but you can’t call either of them. The rest of the people you consider friends… they are just not that close to you. You’re left alone, again.

As your gaze wanders over to your phone, a thought pops up in your mind that makes your hands sweat. You think back to the conversation you had with Harry about your parents and you can’t shake the urge off to finally make that call.

“Fuck it,” you breathe out and grab the device, opening up the contacts until you find what you’ve been looking for. Your thumb hovers above the call button for a while before you finally tap on it and start the call. It rings four times before a voice speaks up on the other end.

“Halo?”

“Hi mom,” you reply and hear a gasp from her at your voice.

There’s less than a week left until the Grammy’s. For your own sake, you haven’t been online outside of answering work emails, you just can’t deal with the shit show your life has become on the internet.

You haven’t left your home unless you really needed to go somewhere, did most of your meetings over the phone or videochat and postponed a fitting as well. You’ve officially caved yourself up in your apartment and you are not planning on leaving anytime soon.

Taylor keys herself in, she hasn’t even mentioned that she might drop by, but you’re not surprised. She is probably here to try to bring you out of this pity party you’ve been holding for days. When she sees you lying on the couch in sweats and messy, unwashed hair, she sighs, shaking her head.

“You really need to pull your shit together, Y/N.”

“I’m fine,” you mumble, pulling your fuzzy blanket up to your chin.

“No, you’re not. This is not the bad bitch I know.”

“Bad bitches have bad days too.”

“This is not a bad day, you look like a fucking zombie. This is not what a Grammy nominee should look like days before the big show.”

“Doesn’t matter, it’s not like I’m performing or anything,” you shrug, but the look in Taylor’s eyes make yours go wide. “Taylor, I’m not performing, you informed them about it, right?”

“This is why I’m here,” she sighs walking closer, sitting on the other end of the couch. “I never cancelled on your performance.”

“I told you I’m not doing it!” “I know, but I was hoping you might come around. But you seem to be still acting like a stupid bitch, so that didn’t happen. However, I’ve gotten an interesting email today.”

She pulls out her phone and opens the email before handing it over to you. Shooting her an unhappy look you start reading.

-

Hi Taylor!

I got your email address from Jeff, wanted to write to you myself. I’ve officially pulled out of the Grammy performance so it’s going to be only Y/N in it. We are also working on a statement to release over the whole ordeal and my lawyers have been after the bigger gossip sites to get the articles down. I want Y/N to have the Grammy experience she deserves and I know it can’t happen with me in the performance. Tell her that I’m sorry for ruining it for her, she deserves so much more. I’m sorry she was brought into this.

I hope to see you soon, take care!

Harry

-

With parted lips, you look up at Taylor who is smiling softly at you.

“He… pulled out for me.”

“He did. Talked to Jeff on the phone, they have already let them know Harry wouldn’t be performing, they will make it official tomorrow.”

“But he deserves this just as much as I do. He is a nominee too.”

“Well, seems like he values you more than his own success.” Taylor lets out a long sigh and scooting closer she places a hand to your knee. “Look, I know you’re upset about how the media treats you just because you were seen out with Harry, and I know that you’re afraid of getting labeled as just the girl he dates and not get taken seriously as an artist, but you can’t let them stop you from living your life how you want to. There will always be judgment, there will always be men who are worse than trash and want to bring you down, but you are stronger than that. Pushing Harry away and being alone for the rest of your life is not a solution. What you can do to put them to their place is give them a big fuck you, date the hottest man in the industry and continue being the bad bitch that you are, fighting against the way you are being treated. Speak up, show them who they are dealing with, share your truth, like you always do! But you can do all of this with Harry by your side. You deserve to be happy and he makes you happy, don’t make yourself miserable because we live in a world where men are still placed above women. Fight for the change but don’t forget to think about yourself as well in the process.”

You feel the tears sting in your eyes. The weight of this past week is just way too heavy to carry, but Taylor is right and you are realizing that you’ve made it harder for yourself. The sobs come before you could stop yourself and Taylor pulls you into a hug.

“I know, I know. It fucking sucks, but you can’t let them win,” she soothes, running her hands up and down your back. “Show them how big of a bad bitch you are and get the man too.”

“You think Harry still wants to be with me?”

“I think that man would be on his knees for you in a heartbeat if you asked,” she chuckles pulling back. “Statement about the performance will be released tomorrow. That’s how long you have to figure it out,” she tells you with a knowing look before leaving you alone with your thoughts, however you don’t have to think long what you have to do.

You have not been the only one these past days took a toll on. The fight the two of you had left Harry completely drained, angry and helpless. He hated that he was the reason you weren’t credited as the talented artist that you are and he couldn’t stop thinking about ways to make it better. That’s when he came up with the idea of pulling out of the performance.

Now he is ready to spend the remaining days until the award show hidden from the world, not even leaving the house. Everyone close to him knows he is better not to be disturbed now, so he is quite surprised when the security system lets him know that someone has arrived.

As you drive up to his house you spot him immediately, stepping out the front door with a shocked look on his face, probably expecting you to be the last person to be there at the moment. You wipe your sweaty palms against your thighs as you walk up to him, feeling anxious to see him and talk to him, especially after the last conversation you had.

“Hey, I’m sorry for coming here without calling or anything…” you shyly start, stopping in front of you.

“Don’t be silly. Come… Come on in,” he clears his throat inviting you inside.

You’ve walked through this front door so many times in the past almost two months, but this is the first time you feel so odd, standing out, like you have no place in here and it’s all thanks to yourself.

“Do you want something to drink? Are you hungry?” Harry walks past you but then turns to face you, talking to you with such warmth and kindness, even after how you acted, putting blame on him for something he has no control over. It completely breaks you and can’t stop your eyes from watering as you look at him. You really hoped you’ve run out of tears in the past days, but it seems like that’s not the case at all.

“Harry, I’m so sorry,” you breathe out shakily and you step closer to each other at the same time, he envelopes you in his strong arms and you fist his shirt at his chest. “I know it was none of your fault, I just got so desperate and afraid that it might ruin what I worked so hard for.”

“I know. And you were right about everything. Everything you said was true and I’m sorry you have to deal with it.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t right to be mad at you just because you have different privileges, it’s not like you can change who you are. So I’m really sorry about that, and also for pushing you away when you were just trying to be there for me. I was so stupid,” you breathe out, wiping the tears sliding your cheeks down away.

“You just panicked, it’s okay. Don’t apologize for wanting to protect yourself.”

Resting your forehead against his shoulder you wait for your sobs to die down before you look back up at him. Reaching up he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, smiling down at you warmly and that smile alone ensures you that you are exactly where you are supposed to be, with the right person.

“Taylor showed me the email you sent her,” you bring it up, clearing your throat.

“You deserve it all to yourself so people can see how amazing of an artist you are.”

“I’m not doing it without you,” you shake your head stubbornly. “We wrote the song together and we’re gonna perform it together or else I’m not doing it either.”

“Y/N, you know if we step on that stage together they are gonna twist the whole thing and make it about something else. I want you to have this opportunity for your career without me ruining it with just my presence.”

“Fuck them, if they take it as something it’s not. They are not gonna take the chance away from us to perform our song. If they are such fucking dumbasses that they make it all about what’s between us, that’s their own personal problem. If I need to, I’ll go on a Twitter rant and tell them this myself. I want you on stage with me or else I’m not doing it either.”

Harry breathes out through his nose, pressing his lips together as he stares back at you, probably realizing you are dead serious about pulling out of the performance and he is right. He doesn’t even know you were the first one to cancel on it, you’d do it again without hesitation.

“I guess we are performing then,” he cracks a small smile and throwing your arms around his neck you pull him down, lips smashing against his, the kiss mingling with giggles and smiles.

Harry wraps his arms tight around your waist, pulling you up from the ground as he spins you around, making you squeal as you hold onto him.

“I have to call Jeff to call the Grammy’s not to post the statement,” he hums against your lips and he pecks them a few more times before letting go of you to quickly make a call to his manager.

You move over to the couch in his living room as he talks to Jeff, who is luckily very understanding about the sudden change. Hugging your knees to your chest you watch him pace the floor, exchanging a few more words with the man on the phone before ending the call, his gaze dropping to you again. Sitting beside you, he kisses your temple, dropping an arm around your shoulders as you lean against him, head resting on his chest.

“I called my mom,” you drop the bomb suddenly and you can feel him tense up for a moment, probably shocked by your words.

“You did?”

“Yeah.” Lifting your head your gaze meets his as you carry on. “She was… very shocked to hear my voice.”

“I bet,” he hums. “What did you talk about?”

“I just… asked how they are doing and told her that I’ve been thinking a lot about them. She sounded genuinely touched by it and said I’m always welcomed for dinner or lunch if I’d like to see them.”

“That’s amazing! See, I told you they would love to hear from you!”

“Yeah,” you smile at him softly. “I think I want to go over sometime after the Grammy’s.”

“I’m sure it’s going to go well.”

“Would you please come with me?”

Your question catches him off-guard he seems surprised that you would want him there, but then his expression softens as he leans down and kisses your forehead.

“I would love to, if you want me there.”

“I do,” you nod.

“Then it’s settled,” he smiles warmly as you lay your head back to his chest, his fingers gently dancing up and down your arm and for once in your life you finally feel settled, like everything is going to be fine.

Highlights of the 63rd Annual Grammy Awards: Y/N Y/L/N blows up stage with new hit duet

The killer duo surprised us all with a brand new duet titled Floating Through Space, performed it together on their big night. Wearing matching galaxy themed suits, Y/L/N and Styles have closed off the evening with probably the most success, the latter winning two out of his three nominations, receiving the award for Best Music Video and Best Pop Vocal Album with his latest album, Fine Line, while Y/L/N was titled best new artist, becoming a Grammy winner early in her career.

Tabloids blew up earlier this month when the two singers were photographed cozied up at dinner with friends, speculations started about their possible romance, but Y/L/N has made a clear statement on the question with her red carpet appearance before the award show. Wearing a head to toe black Gucci gown paired with a dramatic cape, the message “I’M AN ARTIST, ASK ME ABOUT MY ART” painted onto it in red, making a bold statement about her opinion on the way the media has been treating the star.

Both singers remained silent on their alleged romance, but proved to be the best of their time with their joined performance with their new emotional duet. Following the song’s debut on stage it was released to the public as a single right away, taking over all charts with its overwhelming success.

Listen to Floating Through Space now on Spotify and Apple Music!

Your knuckles are turning white from the tight grip on the steering wheel as you stare up at the home you grew up in. It looks almost the same, sometime through the years you haven’t been around your parents have painted it a light blue color from the paste yellow, but it’s still… the same.

“Hey.”

Turning to your right you look at Harry who is smiling at you warmly as his hand reaches over and squeezes your knee gently.

“It’s going to be fine. I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you, you’re still their daughter.”

“That’s not what they told me the last time I was here,” you whisper, feeling your throat closing up.

“We all say things in the heat of the moment. Seeing how happy they were about this lunch proves that they regret what happened.”

Nodding you take a deep breath to get ready for whatever is going to happen. Leaning over the console you pull Harry in for a kiss and it calms your nerves a little. Getting out of the car he takes your hand and squeezes it to let you know he’ll be right by your side all along. As you walk up to the front porch a sense of strong nostalgia washes over you.

You didn’t have a bad childhood, your parents provided you so much growing up, it’s sad to think what it has become. In a way you feel more anxious than walking the red carpet a week ago for the Grammys even though you’re just meeting your parents, but this is a turning point in your life that needed to come sooner or later.

“I’m right here, baby. It’s going to be fine,” Harry murmurs, kissing your forehead before you ring the doorbell, feeling weird that you come here as a guest, not as someone who belongs here.

You hear footsteps approaching on the other side, two frames appear through the clouded glass of the front door and then it flies open, pushing all air out of your lungs, clinging tightly onto Harry’s hand. There’s a moment of silence and just staring at each other before the tiniest smile tugs on your lips.

“Hi mom, hi dad.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[storiesofsvu]

Unexpected Judgement Ch 5

Warnings: Language.  This chapter’s pretty short but I had to split it here cuz the next one’s gonna be long enough without tacking all this on too.

**

The better part of your morning was spent in Casey’s office with her and Lucy (you’d asked her Mom to wait outside to make sure Lucy wasn’t being coached or anything). Despite her wanting to keep Lucy from having to take the stand, the defence was pulling out all the stops possible, which meant she had to fight just as hard to get the proper justice. She was glad Lucy had taken such a liking to you, and that you were there to keep her calm and focused. Not to mention you were quick to give Casey a warning look if her line of questioning was getting too harsh. 

When Lucy asked how that many people were going to fit in Casey’s office you realized you’d need to make a little trip across the street. You let her play around a little bit, making sure she was comfortable before you let Casey put her up on the stand. For an eight year old, she did surprisingly well at Casey’s questioning in the big room, you only hoped she’d be able to do the same for the cross examination.

“This really is the room we’ll be in?” Lucy asked quietly as she hopped down from the box, reaching out to grasp at your hand. You turned to Casey for the response, knowing that she might have just found an empty courtroom to practice in.

“Yes.” She nodded, “The judge will be right up there, beside where you’ll be sitting.” 

“Are they gonna be mean to me?” Casey let out a small laugh, 

“No, Judge Donnelly’s not going to mean to you.” Thankfully Casey was quick to turn her back, packing up her bag missing the shot of panic that flew across your face, quickly pulling yourself together, you said you were going to walk Lucy and her Mom out. Casey nodded, saying she’d meet you back at her office in an hour to go through your own testimony.

Saying good bye to Lucy you took a few minutes to unscramble the wires in your brain. You popped into a coffee shop across the street, grabbing an extra one before you made your way back into the courthouse. You were quick to track down Donnelly’s chambers, 

“Hey, I’ve got to testify for the Alder case, you won’t need to recuse—“ You froze when you noticed another body in her office, of fucking course Casey had to be sitting in a chair across from her desk. Her brows furrowed, perplexed at your comment, turning to Liz.

“Why would you need to recuse?” She asked, hesitancy in her voice.

“I don’t. It’s not a conflict of interest.” Liz spoke first to Casey then to you. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you made small movements towards her desk, placing the extra coffee down. “Thanks. You’re just a witness, it would only be a conflict of interest if you were the victim or the defendant.”

“I…still don’t understand..”

“Haven’t you two been working together all morning? Y/N’s my daughter.” Fuck. Casey felt her heart jump into her throat, absolutely racing as she did her best to keep a neutral face. How in the hell had she managed to not only sleep with but end up in a relationship with her bosses daughter.

“I…didn’t realize you even had a daughter…” The shock factor slightly waring off, she started to connect some of the dots in her head, realizing why you’d been at that gala after all. How you were so connected within the NYPD, and had no problem understanding the legal jargon she thew at you. There was a flurry of emotions in her head, she was partially furious that you’d never mentioned it, and part of her was suddenly very concerned for her job.

“I’ve always preferred keeping work and home separate, you know that.” You could practically feel your relationship imploding in that matter of seconds, and that certainly terrified you. The moment you’d found out Casey was an A.D.A. you knew your Mom was her boss, but you’d been in so goddamn deep you didn’t want to mention it. Of course it would end up like this. You jumped when your phone blared through the small room, you quickly answered it, feeling Casey’s eyes burning into your skin as you took the call.

“That was Benson, they need me down at SVU, can we push my trail prep ’til later?”

“Sure.” You practically winced at the coldness in Casey’s voice. You made it halfway out the door before Liz called out to you, 

“Sweetheart, speaking of pushing things back, are you able to move dinner to next week?” 

“Yeah, ‘course.” At this point you’d agree to practically anything to get yourself out of her chambers. You still had regular monthly family dinners to keep updated on everything and actually get time to spend together. “Wouldn’t miss it!”

“You missed the one after the summer gala…” Liz half smirked, “I only hope it wasn’t because you went home with some disgrace of a defence attorney.” God you felt like you were about to fucking puke. You gave a shaky laugh in response, gesturing that you really did have to go, finally able to escape. Your heart was still racing by the time you got to the precinct, barely able to comprehend the case at hand that Benson was going over. You took a minute to excuse yourself and get your brain back onto professional track before you were finally able to talk to the victim. This was going to be one hell of a headache.

[musebluebird]

Ivan didn't mind being insufferable. At least his brain wasn't going to atrophy from boredom and lack of stimulation. Most people didn't have the intellectual level required to respond to sarcasm and irony so quickly but Lydia always seemed to find a way to return to him all the missiles he threw at her "Maybe you want to look at yourself in the mirror, sweetheart, your father is cut by the same knife," Ivan replied as calmly as possible. In any case, the money that paid for Lydia's education, to name something, was dirtier than Ivan's money was. Mainly considering that Ivan's business was mostly legal for him. Okay, underground fighting probably wasn't the most legal thing in the world but nightclubs were solid. Ivan couldn't leave the clandestine fights though because otherwise he would end up fighting with anyone like a drunk in a bar. He needed to decompress and specially having sex around wouldn't be as easier as it used to be.

He clicked his tongue "Naive would be the word I was looking for" He mocked with all the intention that she knew how innocent her death threat sounded. She was almost adorable in Ivan's books. By no means did he underestimate Lydia's intelligence, he knew she was smart and cunning but there was no way she could plan something against him and Ivan wouldn't find out about it. He didn't think she would do something like that but if she did, not even with her father help she could do it without him seeing it coming from a mile away. "Good luck finding someone willing to help you with that, honey" He replied wondering if it was going to be a long time before they could finish moving on the dance floor and they could sit down. "Let me give you some free inside information." It wasn't a threat, It could rather be a warning, if she wanted to try, Ivan was going to have a lot of fun watching her do it "Friendly warning, my love, I grew up in the streets, that means that everyone knows me and I know everyone and if I don't know someone, someone I know will know" No hitman would take a job like that. There were certain street codes that Ivan believed Lydia would never understand, not out of understatement, but because she hadn't grown up living by them.

When he saw her move, Ivan opened his mouth to ask what the hell she was doing. He could feel her ass against his cock. As if he wasn't about to die of a serious case of blue balls, Lydia had the audacity to sway so that her butt brushed against his cock. Ivan didn't think she was doing it with that intention but still she had to know that he was just a man after all. Ivan did his best to keep his cock from seizing up and not looking like a teenager in the middle of their wedding before leaning down to brush his lips against her ear. "Be careful, you're playing with fire, sweetheart," he muttered under his breath, fully meaning to let her know that he knew exactly what was going through her greedy little mind. At that precise moment, Ivan strongly considered loading her onto his shoulder and carrying her away from there just to fuck her brain out of her. He could almost imagine her tightening around him. Ivan's mind was going places he shouldn't go. He definitely shouldn't be thinking about how sex with his wife would feel like. How warm she would be, how wet she would feel. Damn. He was going to need a cold shower after all that show was done. Ivan cleared his throat "Well, if you fake passing out the main rumor will be that I got you pregnant before the wedding so I wouldn't be that far from 'kids' in people's minds" He replied like they didn't just have a moment. Yeah, back to the taunting, he could handle the taunting but he couldn't handle his wife's ass against his cock.

"I am not ashamed and I am not a fool either, so watch your mouth.." The words spewed out automatically, without even a second for an additional comment. Though she knew her threat was an empty one at that, especially when thrown at Ivan - it felt good to do it. For fuck sake. Did he really need an answer to match everything Lydia threw at him? If she wasn't so pissed off, she'd be impressed; it wasn't every day she met someone who could keep up with her, who gave as good as she got. Did it really need to be him, though? Of all goddamn people. Everything she did seemed to be his source of entertainment and it made her want to scream. It was a miracle, really, that she'd managed to keep herself so composed for now. "Are you thick? What do you think? Be conveniently sick. I can be a good actress, you know." At least she was honest. The masochist comment made genuinely earned a laugh from her though. "The only masochist here is you, my dear. You ought to look in the mirror. What else do you describe someone who offs another person and arranges to marry the traumatised, scarred bystander in the hopes she'll keep her mouth shut, hm? Bit rich coming from you." The way he almost always added a term of endearment at the end of most sentences solidified her theory that he was purposely pissing her off. Ivan really was insufferable, wasn't he? Normally, she could appreciate someone who bantered back and forth with her, put them in her place and remind her that her name was Lydia, not sweetheart or princess or whatever other stupid fucking word that came from his mouth. She didn't exactly have a choice here though, when it was all coming from her husband. About to go off on another tangent, it was safe to say he caught her completely off guard with the mention of children. Our children. Now she was genuinely feeling nauseous, colour draining from her face. "I don't and won't have to think that far ahead because our children will never exist," she stated curtly. "If you think for a second I am going to have children with one of the most depraved, diabolical men I know then you can think again." Having children never was an option for Lydia; she was too dedicated to her work, too ambitious and kids would simply get in the way of that. The world was a shitty enough place to be without dragging some innocent souls to be corrupted by darkness. Not a chance. Over her dead body. She didn't care whether he was kidding or not, that was a resounding no. And the thought of enduring the pain of childbirth was enough to put her off anyway.

As much as she hated to admit it, she had prepared herself for that sort of reaction from her husband. "What do you mean 'kind of?'" she muttered under her breath. Definitely missing the important facts then, more offended that he called her thoughts of attempting strangulation 'kind of cute'. What did it fucking matter anyway? Like she ever wanted to know anything he thought of her. A little. "You shouldn't be so cocky, you'll meet your match one day. Could be me; I could quite easily make your death look like an accident if I wanted to. You wouldn't see it coming. With access to the right resources, the right people, anything's possible," she said playfully, as if she was merely joking. Although if she really wanted to waste the energy, it was feasible. With her knowledge and skills as a forensic pathologist, the career she lived and breathed, it wasn't completely out of the realm of possibility. It would take meticulous time to plan, a lot of energy and pretenses to keep up with and honestly? Lydia couldn't be bothered. It was fun to ponder over it though. But that would mean she was as bad as he was, and that simply was not true. And if she really had been considering it, she wouldn't explicitly unravel her plans. But maybe it would push his buttons, either way, she was half intrigued to see his reaction. Would he go berserk? Would he laugh in her face? It was easy to underestimate her.

Yet it didn't stop the lingering tension festering between the two. Curiosity had gotten the better of Lydia, ever so slightly, and she couldn't help her mind drifting to the what-ifs... and she had an idea. Swiftly turning around in time to the music so her back was facing him, still moving along to the music, she took his hands and pulled them towards her around the front, settling her own on top. And now, if she just leaned back a little, and just positioned herself correctly... If Ivan asked what she was doing, she would simply tell him she got fed up of looking at his stupid face. Pretend to be completely innocent if she was lowkey trying to push the boundary a little, test the waters with not-so-subtle teasing. Though to everyone else, they looked like a typical couple of newlyweds who couldn't keep their hands off of each other. "Who says we have to stay? It's supposed to be our wedding, after all...we should go whenever we want..." she mused, humming thoughtfully as she slowly swayed away with the music. And her mind was wandering again... wondered if he was capable of putting those large hands to good use. It only made her restless. Lingering for a moment before she turned back to face him, her fingers still entwined with his, she tried to hide the small smirk from curving her lips. "Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" she said coyly. "And it wouldn't be completely fake - I still feel queasy from you mentioning kids," she murmured, actually genuinely entertaining the thought, contemplating the suggestion. Our bed should have weirded her out, should have repulsed her but part of her wanted to just throw her morals out of the window just to have her way. To put these thoughts to bed. What night is better than her wedding night? It would be just sex - it didn't mean anything. Still, her stubbornness won out for a little bit longer. It would pain her to give in to him, to let Ivan win. "But hmm, no, I think I'm alright waiting it out a little longer. I can't be bothered by the hassle of the theatrics or having you carry me anywhere." Again with playing hard to get.

[artzee-bee]

Devil’s got a weak spot | Lucifer Morningstar x reader

Fandom: Lucifer (Netflix)

Request: ”Can you do this please.Lucifer is vulnerable around the reader ,And Lucifer loves the reader. Lucifer is wounded to defend the reader. reader bandages his wounds and blames him because it happened to him for her.And they have been friends for many years and the reader knows that he is the devil ,And asks him why he is vulnerable and injured and finally lucifer confesses to her how much he loves her . Thank you. Your writings are wonderful. ”

Genre: angsty with fluffy ending

Warnings: canon typical violence and bad writting probably

~~~

You laid back the seat of Lucifer’s car as much as you could, hoping to get lost in the shadows. Without wanting to, you got sucked into one of his and Chloe’s investigations, but because you weren’t a cop, you had to stay in the car while they took care of business. Well, Lucifer at least. Decker promised that she was on her way with backup but Lucifer couldn’t wait, so he ventured into the old house alone.

You two were on your way to an art exhibition when Chloe called, all but pleading Lucifer to go investigate this specific house, saying she’d be on her way as soon as possible

“Our guy is there!”

“How could you possibly know that, detective?”

“Lucifer, right now is not the time! Please, you need to go!”

As instructed, he turned the car around and drove straight to the location. He didn’t have time to drive back to the other side of Los Angeles to drop you back home, and you were too terrified to be left alone on the streets like that, so you went with him. He was the devil after all so what bad could happen? He’d take care of you! Lucifer didn’t seem too worried either, as he kept telling you that everything would be taken care of in no time and you two could go on with your night, but the further away you got into the woods, the more unsettled you felt. You didn’t want to alarm Lucifer so you kept to yourself but as soon as he got up and left to look inside the building, you felt your heart beating out of your chest in panic.

You stared at the car ceiling, trying to remember the breathing exercises a friend taught you long ago, to no avail. With every deep breath you took, you could hear your heart beat louder and louder in your ears, until you heard something else. Different. Shuffling.

You tried not to move, knowing the safest thing for you would be to stay where you were, concealed by the darkness, but you had to know what was going on outside! Maybe it was just some animal, rummaging through the woods. You couldn’t be sure it was anything threatening at all unless you took a look!

Standing up in your chair slowly, you peek out of Lucifer’s window and see a man dressed in black, digging a hole in the ground. He seemed to be about your height, but much more buff. Broad shoulder with a thick beard. You pulled out your phone, thinking this is crucial evidence that Chloe and Lucifer must have! You recorded every move of the man, from the car. Your flashlight wasn’t on, obviously, which made the quality of the video pretty sucky, but it was definitely readable. You watched slowly as the man dug out what looked like a backpack or a small luggage. He quickly grabbed it and walked away, down the street you and Lucifer had come from. You tried to follow him with your camera as much as you could but eventually, he left your view. In a spur of curiosity and bravery, you opened Lucifer’s door just slightly. Enough to be able to peak your camera out and continue recording the man! It felt like an important job, like you were part of the team and, curiously, you found the feeling of panic diminishing, replaced instead by power and pride!

The car door swung open suddenly and your phone was snatched away by a tall blonde man, dressed in all black. He quickly dragged you out of the car and gagged you with a cloth. All of this happened so suddenly, you barely had time to react or fight him off. He was much stronger than you anyways, so when he slammed you face first onto the hood of the car, you could resist him in any way that mattered.

“Y/N!!” you heard Lucifer come from behind you. He must have just exited the house. 

Everything was so confusing and you could barely process your surroundings. You got yanked away from the car, and turned to face Lucifer.

His hair was messed up and his nice shirt, the one he had bought just last weekend and had been so excited to show you, was now ruined with blood and gunk and mud. He looked out of breath but his fists were clenched, ready to fight.

“Not a single step further!” the blonde man said, as he glued the barrel of his gun to your temple. Your knees went weak.

“I’m not going to do anything!” Lucifer said, raising his hands in surrender “Surely we can come to an agreement!” “I highly doubt that!”

“There must be something that you want! That you’ve been dreaming of for years now! I can make it happen!” you saw right through Lucifer’s act. His voice was calm and somewhat conspirative, as it always was when he was granting people favours, but his eyes spoke of fear and uncertainty. Uncharacteristic of him. 

“Tell me, what is it you truly desire?”

You repressed a smile as you felt the man slightly relax his grip around you. He fell into the devil’s spell. Eventually, the words flew out of his mouth.

“I want my mom back”

“Oh, well that can be arranged! Just let me know where she is and I can guarantee that…”

“She’s dead”

“Oh…” Lucifer’s smile faded

“Yeah, I’d love to see how you’re gonna do that!” you felt the vulnerability of the man translate into his body language. As you were still pressed against him, you felt his grip loosen significantly and decided this was the one chance you got. You kicked your foot back, hitting the man right in between his legs, forcing him to let go of you completely. You took off running towards the woods behind the car but you didn’t have a chance to get far before you heard Lucifer attack the man. You looked back at the fight, only to see the blonde fire his arm into your friend’s leg. For the first time ever you saw something on Lucifer’s face that you had never seen before: pain. He screeched in agony as he pulled away from the man but before the fight went any further, another shot was fired, hitting the blonde man in the shoulder. This one came from behind you. Chloe had arrived at the luckiest of moments. You were sure that had it not been for her, you would have been dead and the guy would have probably gotten away again. Now however, he was in the back of a cop car, on his way to the precinct. Decker and the rest of her team began scouting the place for evidence while you sat outside with Lucifer, carefully tending to his wounds.

“Why?”

“What do you mean darling?” “Oh, where do I even begin!” you joked, but could feel tears brimming in your eyes “First, why did you get hurt like this? You are invincible! You always have been, I mean hell, I’ve seen you get caught in a crossfire before and walk out of it just fine! What was it about this guy and this guy's weapon that made the DEVIL bleed!” you said, showing him the bloody cloth you had been using to clean off the wound “And second, why did you attack him like that? That was reckless! I mean you got SHOT for fuck’s sake!”

Lucifer took a deep breath before answering “ It wasn’t him or his gun. It was you! I am vulnerable when I am around you”

“How is that even possible?! “ “Amenediel had some ideas about that…” he tried to laughed it off

“Like what?” you could tell he was avoiding the subject but you weren’t having it! You were deeply concerned for the safety of your friend and him keeping secrets from you was not something you could tolerate any further

“He thinks I choose to be vulnerable when I’m around you…”

“Why would you do that? That’s ridiculous!”

“For the same reason that I attacked that man Y/N” he said, meeting your eyes for the first time since you had been left alone “Because I love you. And you aren’t just a friend to me”

You looked at him in astonishment and were unable to suppress the giggling fit that took over you. You shook your head lightly before leaning up to kiss Lucifer’s lips. He tasted of black coffee and cigarettes and fit perfectly against you. He kissed you back shyly, as if he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to.

“You should have just told me instead of taking a bullet in the leg, you know? I understand how some people would find that more romantic. Risking your life for the other person and all that, but I prefer you safe and healthy. Understood?”

“Yes ma’am” he said with a smile

“Come here!” you replied, leaning back into him for another kiss.