#reading this kinda of stuff pulled me out of my head faster than the people around me have

[ar3s-r4t-qu33n]

The Insomniac - Chapter 1

So… Played the tutorial of Trials and explored the Sleep Room a bit and somehow, in my sleep deprived brain, that was enough to make something so here it is! Not sure if I’ll continue it, I kinda want to ngl but we’ll see. Not really proofread, again, half written when I was passing out and then finished when I was a bit more lucid so I apologise if it’s shit. Also I’m still figuring out a lot of shit about Trials so if I’ve messed up anything about the layout/terminology/lore, please let me know! Hope y’all enjoy!!

Word Count: 3,338

CW: Attempted murder, drugging.

"Please step out of the shuttel."

Reawakening

I cling to the shuttle, knees knocking as one of my hands slips off, almost taking me down with it. It's bloody, still gushing the stuff from the gaping hole in my palm. My head throws my vision through a loop, and I have to swallow hard to stop the bile rushing up my throat to come spilling out of me. It hurts. It's too bright in here. Wherever here is. There's a window to my left, where more of those awful doctors are probably torturing their patients, drilling into their temples and spewing nonsense about the past and the future and 'the programme'. My head spins again. In front of me looks like a counter at a pharmacy, a woman reading behind the desk. She doesn’t appear to have noticed me, but I’m breathing so loudly, I swear she must be able to hear it.

I jolt, stumbling out and crashing against the wall. The shuttle snaps shut behind me, faster and somehow angrier than the last one.

“Please explore the Sleep Room. This is your neighbourhood…”

I squeeze my eyes shut, blood rushing my ears as my head spins yet again, that stupid intercom going on and on and on, barely audible between each ragged breath I force in and out of my lungs. I need to calm down. I need to figure out what the hell is going on and get out of here. My fingers stick to the cool glass and I force myself to steady, wobbly on my feet as I approach the counter.

"You have to learn to crawl before you can run, Honey.” She says, disinterested, again not even glancing up from her magazine.

"I-" My words die in my mouth, vocal chords giving out a pained squeak instead of English, throat constricting in on itself in protest, larynx sending me a strict warning;

Don't speak unless necessary. You need to heal.

I need to get my hands on some fresh tea, lemons and honey.

Rounding the corner, I find myself in what looks like a recreational room, only it's entirely too clinical. Pure white, too much space, and far too few people having far too few conversations. Most just sit, staring off. A man sits near the door, something in his eyes a little more lucid than some of the others, so I approach.

"Where-"

He juts his head towards a metal staircase. "First empty room you see’s probably yours.”

"Thank you." More throaty squeaks, both the inside and outside of my throat burning at the effort.

The slabs have been cold on my now bare feet, but the metal stairs are even worse. Make me wish I had my fluffy slippers. I didn't have time to put them on, I only had my socks. Why would they take my socks? And my nightgown, I realise, reaching the platform halfway up. I'm dressed in something akin to a uniform, gray and drab and not made for me. It clings far too much, meant for a gal a lot smaller than me.

A glint in my peripheral catches my eye and I glance to the right, finding a huge window looking down on the rec room. I can't see much. The glass is strange, not quite a mirror, but not clear, either. As though it resists showing what's within but can't quite commit to the task.

Doctors. Machines. And then a man in a wheelchair. He's focused on the people below me, pondering something, before he pulls away from the window, disappearing down a hallway. Not once did he look at me. It's like he didn't even know I was there.

My room is at the very end of the hallway marked ‘A-2’, beside another metal grid sectioning us off from the rest of wherever we are. The only plain room left, a number written above the unit.

3001

The door swings open almost too efficiently, quickly and quiet, and I quickly shut it again behind me. That voice comes in again, seemingly coming from a television screen in the corner, talking about the space, but I don’t care to hear it. I don’t care for any of this.

The door stands a fraction of an inch above the floor, a tiny but noticeable drop between the hallway and my room. The window in here is the same as the one looking down to watch us; not quite one way, not quite two. My stomach drops as I watch someone pass by, not seeing their every pore, sure, but they're not exactly blurred. They sort of lean in, as though hoping I wouldn't see them, and quickly disappear, footsteps, shoes, hurrying back down the hallway as hushed voices talk. Not soundproof, either.

The room holds little; a basin, wall mirror, desk and chair, bed, a little dresser for clothes, a few shelves and what appear to be the 'essentials' for this place- shampoo, soaps, a wash cloth, kettle, some eating utensils, fan, books, weights, a lamp, toilet paper, some canisters, and a pile of napkins. A toothbrush and tube of toothpaste have been laid out by the basin too.

Taking stock makes me feel better. I don’t know why.

The soap and shampoo are basic, unscented, purely for getting clean, and the canisters hold sugar, in one, and coffee pods in another. My nose twitches at the scent and I move on, sitting on my plain bed, feeling the cheap, sort of scratchy sheets beneath my hand. The other remains in my lap, numb, but throbbing. I've never treated a wound before. And it's not even the only one I have; that... Creature, whatever it was, it felt like it sucked the life out of me, and whoever jumped on me luckily didn't cause too much damage, but my arms hurt from the punching, and there will probably be bruises tomorrow. And then I ran into that woman with the puppet again at right before I escaped, and that drill caught me in the shoulder.

I think I almost died. If that shuttle hadn't closed, she would have killed me.

I approach the basin, seeing myself in the mirror for the first time since that night. I'm a mess. Hair all over the place, lipstick smudged, a dark ring around my eyes where my makeup was. Bloodshot eyes. Temples caked in blood from where they drilled...

I wince at the memory, a headache threatening to hit me, and I force my attention on my hand.

Once the blood is washed away and I've wiped as much as I can from my shoulder and temples, I'm left with a cut along my left shoulder and a hole in my right hand. At least it's not my dominant one. But I'm going to need something to cover it up. My throat is burning now, in desperate need of a drink, but I'd rather die than drink coffee and I don’t know if the water is safe. My legs are shaky as I head back downstairs to the rec room, hunger pains gnawing at the bottom of my stomach. I can smell food somewhere, but it's almost overwhelming how strong it is, the air completely filled with the stench of something I can't quite place, a cacophony of smells that do nothing but confuse me. I need to focus. I need gauze and a plaster.

I try to speak to the nearest person but words just won't form. My throat is practically wringing itself, and my eyes dart around the room in search of something to drink; nothing. None.

It's like my body moves of it's own accord, slinking back to the stairs, leaning against the banister in... Shame.

I want to fucking scream.

I want to yell ‘don't any of you know who I am!? Don't you care!?’ God, in New York, in New Orleans, I was something. I meant something, people knew my name and if they saw me like this, bleeding and parched, they would help me. Someone would help me.

... Am I even still in New York?

"Hey-"

A hand lands on my shoulder and I jump back, hitting the back of my head against the metal, a strangled sort of half gasp, half scream clawing its way out of my throat.

"Hey, hey, woah!" A man several heads taller than me steps back, hands up in defence. "Easy. It's okay. I just wanted to check in on you, I don't think I've seen you around before and... To be honest, you ain't exactly in the best shape."

He's weathered. I can't tell if it's by age or experience, but there is something timeless to him, wrinkles on his forehead, crow's feet, and yet clear laughter lines outlining his full lips. His hair is shaved down to his scalp, a coiley layer of frizz just about starting to grow, and a lightning bolt of a scar runs from his scalp down the side of his temple and onto his right cheek, forking over his forehead and even dipping into his ear.

"Do you need some gauze?"

I nod.

"Do you need someone to wrap your hand for you?"

I nod again.

"Do you talk?"

I nod a third time.

"Alright, okay," he chuckles, "My cell's this way, and luckily for you, I've got some supplies saved up. We haven't had anyone new come in in a while now." He begins walking and I follow, turning down a hallway to that first row of rooms. His is in the middle, and the second he opens the door, I am in awe.

I have no idea how he's managed to do it in a place like this, but there's paper on the walls and a carpet on the floor, the whole floor, filling that slight gap between the two rooms. His shelves are lined with things, including a medkit that he grabs and behind digging through. His dresser is full of clothes, some bloodied, others pristine, and some of his trinkets do catch my eye. They're... Oddly macabre. Toys that are just off or oddly perverse, statues of things I have never seen in my life, and, oddly enough, a bag of pistachios, half eaten.

"Sit down. I'll be as gentle as possible." He pulls out the desk chair for me. "Feel free to grab some water, too. Safer to get it from the stations in the hallway than the sink, but the way.”

As he begins to wrap my hand, I take the cup and drink the whole thing down in one, finally dousing the flames within.

"That better?" He asks, amused.

I nod. "Thank you."

His smile fades "Look, I hate to be rude, I do, but," he secures the gauze. "You look really bad, ma'am. Worse than most new folks."

I motion to my shoulder and he takes a look.

"Blood loss. Checks out." He begins to rifle through the first aid box again.

There’s a thousand questions running through my head, some I know he could probably answer, others I’m certain he can’t, but somehow the least important one comes out first. "How did you know about my hand?"

He holds his right hand out to me, a scar almost perfectly in the centre of his palm. "I'll give Gooseberry one thing; she has impeccable aim." He crosses over to my front again. "We all have one. There's a certain order to things here, you know, them academics and doctor types love routine." He rolls his eyes with a smirk. "But every single person here has a scar." He presses his hand against mine gently. It dwarfs mine, almost, larger, stronger, calloused. "And now you do too. Means you're one of us," His eyes flick to the still-open door, quickly enough that just I barely catch it. "And not one of them."

He returns his attention to my shoulder.

"I'm sorry, that's a lot of information at once, huh?"

I nod, losing my words once more.

"Don't you worry, they usually give you a few days before they start hounding you to go back in-"

"Go back in!?" I try to turn around, but his sturdy hands hold me in place.

"Easy." He warns. "I'll explain more to you once you've settled, but unless you wanna pass away in your sleep tonight, I'd suggest you let me take care of this."

I still, but my heart is thudding along in my ears, I can feel it in my neck, the soles of my feet. What else could possibly be in that house that would make me wanna go back? I already destroyed everything, my documents, whatever was in that other box. It was too dark for me to rifle through it, I had more important things on my mind.

“I barely got here.” I mutter, quite by accident.

He sighs. “Like I said, you’ll have a few days to recover, maybe someone will take pity on you and do a few runs in your stead. But you will have to go back in. Everyone has to go back in.” He secures the bandage. “Maybe you’ll find a full group to go with, that’ll give you better chances.”

“Can’t I go with you?”

He’s suddenly bashful, gaze falling to the floor. “Not, um… not really. It’s really nothing personal, but it’s better for me if everyone survives, and I’ve been doing this with folks who know what they’re doing for quite some time now. You ain’t ready for that sort of thing, clearly. Better if you find someone with a bit more experience who’s willing to go at your speed.”

None of what he’s saying is making any sense to me. How much better can you get at shredding documents and avoiding crazy people? I’m sure if I went back in, with a proper layout and knowledge of what the hell I was doing, I could do it perfectly, without getting hurt this time.

“You’re all set.” He says, stepping back from me. “You’d best get yourself some food. I’d suggest avoiding Dory for the time being, she ain’t too fond of new people bothering her. I recommend you be nice to the Cook, since he’s the one feeding you, and I have heard he’s happy to spit in the soup if someone pisses him off enough. Don’t use that hand too much if you can help it as well. Oh, the showers are through the cafeteria, same as the toilets.”

A knock has us both turning to the door, where a woman, an older lady with greying hair and spindly hands is waiting.

“Sparky, the boys wanna play chess, you coming?”

“I’ll be right there, thanks for letting me know.”

She spares me a quick once-over before leaving.

The man, Sparky, I assume, leads me back out to the rec room before patting me on the back and heading upstairs, leaving me alone once more.

It’s even quieter in here now, maybe it’s tea time or perhaps people are turning in or have somewhere to be, but it’s completely quiet save for the echoes from above. I am hungry. Thirsty again now, too. Maybe I should go up to the cafeteria, so if I can get something. See about getting my hands on some tea. I’d even take Earl Grey at this point as opposed to my usual spiced chamomile. Anything, so long as it soothes my throat.

“Hey,”

I turn to my right; a man is behind a thick pane of that strange glass, completely on his own. He’s dressed as though he’s been prepared for a struggle; helmet, mask, even gloves. He’s surrounded by what look to be little cages, a small hallway behind his cramped office. I can’t help peering down it as I get closer, searching for anyone out there.

“Sorry, just… Fuck. You just got here, didn’t you?” He says, leaning forwards in his chair. “You got that look about you, like… I don’t know, like you’re still human.”

My throat tightens. “What does that mean?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing. Just enjoy it while it lasts, I guess.” He points to the shuttle beside me. “This here’s the egress. Once the whitecoats are done twisting you into shape, this is how you get back out into the world.”

It looks like it, too. Lush plant life is escaping the gridded floor, thin smoke reminding me of a rain forest or jungle, but the second I step just slightly closer to it, bars slam into place, blocking my way out.

“I’m… sorry to say it,” I can’t look away from it. The exit, the way out, it’s right in front of me, right before my eyes. All it would take is this guy pressing a button and letting me through, and I’d be free. “But you got a lot of rough roads ahead of you.”

My lip quivers pathetically, that burning, constricting feeling in my throat finally giving way to tears, hot, escaping my eyes as I turn back to him. “I can’t do this. I- I’m not supposed to be in a place like this, I mean it. I didn’t… I have a family back home. People who are looking for me, they know that I can’t do this, you just have to call them up, if you call my dad, he’ll tell you I’m not built for this.”

“I’ve heard this before, miss-”

“I’m Roxie Morgan.” I say, gripping the edge of his counter. “I’m a singer, I live in New York, people know who I am, they know my face, they will miss me if I don’t come home, you have to let me out of here- I’m going to die!”

For a moment- I swear, I swear- his pale blue eyes soften, hands clenching in his lap as he looks at me, as I cry in front of him, letting him see the whole of it, the whole of me and my fucking terror, I see his chest seize up, as though caught red-handed, as though he could actually do something.

And then he looks away.

“I… I’m sorry, Ma’am, but I’ll need release tokens to let you out. There’s protocols, there’s rules, and you’re just gonna have to follow them.”

No…

No. No, no, no, he can’t, he can’t make me do this, no one can make me do this.

“I can’t go back in there. I could have died, do you hear me? I almost died in there! That woman almost killed me, she almost killed me! Someone almost killed me-”

He presses a button. “I need a sedative please, as soon as possible.”

“You can make it stop! You can let me out, you can get me out of here please, please just let me go, I shouldn’t be here! I’m not supposed to be here, I-”

A strong arm wraps around my wrist and a stabbing pain shoots through my upper arm. Immediately my body fails me, legs giving out and someone hooks their hands under my arms, dragging me backwards.

As my eyes fall shut, I see that man behind the glass just staring at me, wide-eyed, haunted, almost, as though he’s never had to do that before. As though he’s in trouble, a brand new trouble he’s never experienced before.

            I wake the following morning with a mouth dryer than sand and a splitting head ache, a dried dribble of blood stuck to my arm. I’m starving at this point, stomach screaming at me to get up and feed it.

On my way through to the cafeteria, I can’t help but look at that window again. He’s not there, it’s a different guy this time, but I can’t imagine that he’s just gone. No, he’s likely gone home, his shift ended, and he’ll be back at some time in the future. He has to come back.

Because he’s my ticket out. No matter what it takes, that man is going to get me out of here.

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

An attempt was made...

Idk, it's a sort of flash sudden thing, I usually edit and draft a lot more before I feel like I want people to read it but first time for everything ig. I'm so fucking scared rn man-

[trashdeviant]

I really hope things get better for you, you deserve to be happy. We love you 💕

I didn’t realize how badly I wanted to hear this... thank you

[cjsinkythoughts]

It’s All in the Perspective

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 4491

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, Gun Violence, Minor Character Injury, A Peek at Angry Bucky, Explosions (if that’s a warning), Mentions of Stevie (I really miss him, guys)

A/N: So! Here it is! Part 4.3! After long hours of laboring and slaving away - kidding, kidding. I had a bit of trouble with this part, not gonna lie, because there’s a lot of feelings I wanted to try explaining. To do that, there’s a little sort of twist at the end that, once I decided to put in, made the chapter much smoother to write. I wasn’t happy with it at first, but now I’m satisfied.

There’s a lot of things happening in this one; it’s longer than I had anticipated because of the little snippet at the end I added. It’s got a few scene-for-scene things, but I kinda blew past it just to get to the characters’ emotions and stuff. Plus writing action like the shipping yard scene is hard when you’re not focusing entirely on that scene, which I wasn’t.

You’ll notice that the last little bit with Ayo (the Wakandan) isn’t in this. That’s because I couldn’t really find a way to fit it in and I’m assuming it will fit in better with next week’s episode.

Not beta’d, so please excuse any mistakes! Thank you wonderful people for reading and commenting! I enjoy hearing your opinions and what you like about the show and the series! Enjoy the final Part for Episode 3 and stay tuned for an announcement tomorrow about the One Shots I’ll be doing in relation to this series!

FATWS MASTERLIST

cjsinkythoughts MASTERLIST

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

You and Bucky kept sneaking glances at each other as you walked through the dock, weaving between the different colored shipping containers with Sharon leading the way. Every time you caught his eye, his ears turned red and he looked away, scanning your surroundings. Not that you were any better, immediately turning away when he turned your way.

You almost kissed him. Fuck. You couldn’t let that happen. He was your friend. Your teammate. He was the best friend to the man you fell in love with, who just so happened to be your best friend. Your best friend who left you. Your best friend who you promised you would watch out for Bucky. 

Bucky…who you also fell in love with. Whether or not it was because of Steve, the fact of the matter was: you loved him. You loved both of them. And you’d never loved anyone like that before. And one left. And the other was trying to navigate through his shitty life. And you weren’t any better. Which is why, you decided in that moment, that no matter how much you wanted to - and holy shit did you want to - you wouldn’t pursue. 

Yet. Maybe. Ugh! When did feelings become so complicated?!

When you started having them.

You silently grumbled to yourself, shaking your head clear. You had to focus and be in the moment. Now was not the time to sort out what to do about the suddenly rising emotions towards the cerulean eyed brunette currently burning with you with a gaze you refused to return.

“Alright.” Sharon stopped, making the group stop as well. “He’s in there. Container 4261. I’ll keep an eye out while you guys talk to Nagel. But hurry; we’re on borrowed time.”

You each grabbed one of the earpieces she held in her palm, slipping it comfortably in your ear. “I’ll stay back with you.” Sharon went to talk, but you cut her off. “I’d feel better knowing it’s not just you out here.”

She pursed her lips, before nodding. “Alright. If that’s what you want.”

“Doll-”

“I’ll be fine, Buck.” You insisted, checking your gun to make sure it was loaded. Bucky stayed quiet, nodding in begrudging acceptance.

You and Sharon headed off as the boys went towards the storage unit. “Just like old times, huh?” Sharon raised an eyebrow at you.

You grinned, shoving your gun in the thigh holster she let you borrow. “Let the good times roll, babe.”

“Absolutely.” Sharon winked, before you two split up to cover more ground. It wasn’t long before Sharon announced company and you took off sprinting in her direction.

You got to her just as more thugs approached her from behind, immediately lunging into action.

“Hey, so, we never finished that conversation!”

You grunted as you roundhouse kicked a guy, hooking your knee over his shoulder and pulling him to the ground by the neck “Really?! You wanna do that now?!”

“Sure! I’m not too busy!”

You rolled your eyes at her reply, seeing her knock a guy unconscious before she turned around to knee another one in the face. “What were we talking about?”

“Why’re you holding back?”

“It’s complicated!” You elbowed a guy in the ribs, flipping him over your shoulder and twisting his arm till a sickening crack sounded.

“Because of Steve?!”

“Yes - no! Kind of!” 

Sharon was on the floor choking a guy out as you slammed a guy’s head into a shipping container, pushing him at another guy. “You loved him didn’t you?! And I mean, like in love with him!”

“Who?!” You laced your fingers around the back of his head and brought his face down onto his knee.

“Director Fury!” You gave her a look which she snorted at. “Steve, you dumbass! Who else?!”

“Yeah! No shit I was in love with him!” You ran up the side of a storage unit to do a backflip and land on some guy’s shoulders, choking him out. Before he fell, you rolled off, tripping a guy in the process and elbowing his throat.

“Well at least you’re admitting it now!”

You were hit in the back of the head, thrown into a wrestle with another guy on the ground. You bit his hand, making him cry out, before you headbutted him. 

“You couldn’t even hear his name without having to remind people you were ‘just friends’!”

“We were just friends, Share! You know that!”

You heard her shoot of a gun a few times as you smacked someone in the back of the head with the butt of your gun, trying to save ammo. “You really never did anything about it?!”

“No!”

She glanced at you incredulously from across the way, bodies now littering the ground. “And you don’t regret that?”

“No.” You sighed at her look, relenting. “Yes. Kind of. I dunno. I mean…he’s happy with his decision, and for me that’s enough.”

“But doesn’t it hurt?”

“Of course it hurts. It hurts like hell. But-”

“But you still have him so it’s all good.”

You bit your lip, shrugging. “Something like that.”

Sharon tilted her head, confused. “So why don’t you tell him?”

“I dunno. I don’t think either of us is ready.”

“C’mon. I saw you two earlier. You should’ve just kissed him.”

Rolling your eyes, you frowned when you noticed something missing. “Ah shit. My ear piece. It must’ve fallen out earlier.” You looked around, but Sharon stopped you, nodding her head between a couple shipping containers. 

“Don’t worry about it. Mine broke a little while ago, too. Let’s go get the guys. Tell them we need to leave.”

You nodded and started running with her to the unit Nagel’s lab was in. You followed her around the corner, only to widen your eyes and shove her out of the way. Two gunshots rang out, Sharon catching the guy right between the eyes, while the man’s bullet grazed your shoulder.

“Ow, fuck.” You hissed, hand immediately going up to clamp your wound.

“Dammit! You shouldn’t have done that, you idiot!”

You gave her a look. “You’re welcome.”

Rolling her eyes, she quickly tore off part of your shirt. “Hey!”

“First off, this is my shirt. Second, I’m just making it more of a crop top. Third, it’s your own fault, so quit your whining.”

“Touchy touchy.” You grumbled, wincing when she tied it around your arm.

“Just come on. And hey,” she turned to you as she sprinted with your wrist in her hold. “My advice? Don’t wait. Seriously. I know it must be weird, the whole he’s his best friend, he was your best friend, now he’s your best friend, thing you’ve got going on, but there’s nothing else stopping you. Steve made his choice. And he’d be fine with whatever you choose as long as you’re happy.”

You shook your head. “But Bucky’s still healing-”

“So? He’s already been on dates. I think you’re just using that as an excuse to protect your heart from hurting again. Trust me; Barnes isn’t going anywhere.”

Not able to respond since you were making your way to the guys in Nagel’s lab, you bit your lip, hating that she got the last say in the conversation. She definitely planned it so she would. “We’re outta time, fellas.”

As if things couldn’t get worse Zemo - that fucking snake, you knew he was gonna do something stupid - took out a gun he got from who knows where. You sure as hell didn’t let him have a gun. Before you could stop him, he shot Nagel, your best, your only, lead.

“Goddammit!” You growled as Sam and Sharon restrained him. “You fucking-”

The explosion came next, again happening faster than you could react. Bucky grabbed you and pulled you underneath him, covering you with his body as glass and metal flew around you. With ringing ears, you groaned, squinting your eyes open.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

You were vaguely aware of the alarms going off, a red light blinking behind Bucky’s head. You nodded, his worried eyes softening just slightly at your response. “We gotta get out-”

“I know, I know. C’mon.” He helped you up, eyes catching sight of the makeshift bandage on your arm. “Dammit, what did you do?”

“I’m fine.” You pushed his hands off. “Go help Sharon. We’ve gotta move. Now.” He huffed, but nodded and moved over to get Sharon. You tried to see where Zemo went through the smoke, but he was already gone.

You four made it just before the whole thing combusted due to the chemicals in the lab. So much for any evidence or leads.

The moment you got out, you were thrust into a gunfight, rolling your eyes as Bucky and Sam, once again, did their own thing.

“Are they always like this?”

“Usually it’s worse. Wait until they start arguing about who was right.” Sharon gave you an unamused look to which you nodded at, ducking when a bullet whizzed by you. “I know. It’s so annoying.”

Sure enough, when Bucky ran out of bullets, the bickering commenced, making you huff and Sharon shout at them. “Are they serious?”

You shot a few more bullets before your gun started clicking. “Dammit. Unfortunately.”

“I’m out!”

“Me too!”

Another explosion and a person you couldn’t see clearly through the haze caused a distraction for you guys to get away, Sam practically shoving you and Sharon into an open shipping container as Bucky took care of a couple more bounty hunters.

“What happened? Both of your comms went out.” Bucky growled once he came in behind you, grabbing your forearm to study your wound.

“It’s just a graze. Chill your ass down. I lost my earpiece and Sharon’s broke.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed, his voice low with warning. “What. Happened.”

“We rounded a corner, the guy was there. I shoved Sharon, he shot, she shot, I got hit, he’s now dead. Happy?”

“You promised.” He snapped, finger tightening on your arm. “You said you’d save yourself first.”

“Buck, let go.” Grabbing his wrist, you tugged a bit, wincing slightly. “Seriously. Stop. That hurts.”

He blinked, his features slacking and his fingers immediately dropping your arm. “Doll, I-I…fuck.” He turned to go punch through the back wall to get out of the unit you were in.

Before you could respond and tell him it was fine, the Baron himself drove up in a slick blue convertible. You groaned at Bucky’s response to Zemo. “We need him.” God, you were getting tired of hearing that.

“You’re lucky I don’t bash your head in.” You growled at him. 

“If you try that shit again-”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Sam raised an eyebrow when Bucky got into the passenger’s seat with no hesitation, looking at you. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but you shrugged and slipped into the back with Sam. Bucky and you always took the back seat. You had ever since the dumb little blue car Steve got.

You hugged Sharon in parting, knowing she couldn’t come with. “Hey.” She looked at you sternly. “Take a leap.”

“We’ll see.” You told her, sitting down and buckling.

“Do better than that, Y/L/N. And get me that pardon you promised me.” She told Sam, pointing at him..

“Thanks for everything.” She nodded, before jogging off in the opposite direction you’d be heading. Sam turned back to the front, an annoyed expression crossing his face. “You’re not gonna move your seat up, are you?”

“No.”

You snickered as Sam shot you a glare, Zemo starting to drive the car out of the shipping yard, away from the chaos.

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

You collapsed onto the seat in front of Bucky, leaning onto the knee he had propped up against the back. He glanced up at you, face blank, before looking back down at his metal hand he was cleaning.

“Here. Let me see-”

“I got it.” He grumbled, shifting away from where your hands reached for his.

Your eyes widened, stunned at his reaction. “Bucky, just let me-”

“I said no, Y/N.” Your name. Again. You can’t remember him calling you ‘doll’ since before the shipping yard explosion.

“Are you okay?” He merely grunted. You straightened off his leg, swatting his knees with the back of your hand. “Hey.”

He shifted again, planting his feet on the floor. “Stop.”

“No.”

He shot you a warning glare. “Y/N-”

“Stop calling me that.”

“It’s your name, isn’t it?”

“What is wrong with you?” You scrunched up your features in confusion and concern. “Is this about my arm? I told you it’s fine.” You got no response except his eye flickering to your now properly bandaged shoulder. “Why are you acting so weird?”

He shrugged. “I’m not.”

You scoffed in disbelief, jaw dropping. “You’re not.”

“Nope.”

“Fine.” You stood up, brushing your legs off, the bare skin having splotches and smears of dirt and dust. “If you wanna be like that, go ahead. Brood. Be a child. When you’re ready to talk to me about whatever the hell is bothering you, like an adult, I’ll be in the back room.”

You only took two steps before he called out for you. “Doll.” You turned around, an expectant look on your features as you crossed your arms, shifting your weight to one foot. He looked up at you nervously, before looking down and picking at the metal plates of his hand. “I got scared.”

Your features softened, your head tilting gently. “Scared?”

“When you stopped talking. You and Sharon…you were talking. But both of your comms went down around the same time and I…it scared me. I-I don’t get scared anymore. Not the way I did when your voice stopped. I didn’t mean to hurt you…” His voice got quieter at the last sentence, his eyes looking to the purple handprint on your forearm.

“It was an accident, Buck.” You reassured him, settling back down in front of him. “It’s fine. You were still reeling it in from the bar. I know it’s hard for you to judge your strength like that. Steve had problems like that too.” You looked down at the rag he was holding, putting your hand out.

He licked his lips, before handing you the rag. You got off the couch to shift so you were sitting between his legs, his chest to your back. Holding his metallic hand between both of yours, you set to work, gingerly wiping away the grime, picking at the filth that wedged itself between the plates.

“He,” you chuckled, shaking your head at the moment you were remembering. “He accidentally gave me a concussion once when we were sparring. At first it was awesome; he got me my favorite take out and took me to the movies and all that. But then he just started getting annoying. Wouldn’t even let me reach for the TV remote on the coffee table a yard away.”

“Can I ask you something?” You hummed, tilting your head slightly when you felt his chin hooking on your shoulder, giving him more room. “How long did you love him?”

Freezing, you raised an eyebrow and turned to face him. “What?”

“You and Sharon. When you were talking…your comms were on.”

“How-” You swallowed thickly, a lump suddenly forming in the back of your throat. “How much did you hear?”

“Yours went out right after you admitted you were in love with him. Hers went out after you said you were just friends.”

Holding in a sigh of relief, you went back to cleaning his hand. “I don’t really know exactly when it happened. After the Battle of New York, maybe. So 2012, I guess? I dunno. I was getting up from falling for him, though. A few years later.”

“Was?”

“I - yeah. I kind of…fell again.”

He hummed, leaning back, taking his chin off your shoulder and unwinding his arm from your waist. “He’s an easy person to fall for. Hell, I’m pretty sure I had a crush on him once upon a time.”

You chuckled at that, raising an eyebrow over your shoulder at him. “I never said I fell for him again. But, yeah. You’re right.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “You like someone else?”

“It’s…complicated.”

“Oh…” He cleared his throat as you went back to his hand. “Uh…so you don’t still love him? Steve, I mean?”

“He was the first person I really loved, Bucky. A part of me will always love him.”

Bucky fingers twitched in your hold, the fingers on his other hand tapping against his thigh. “You know…he loved you too.”

You sighed, closing your eyes. “Don’t do that.”

“It’s true-”

“He left, James. If he loved me, why would he leave?”

You could feel his hesitation as his next words left his lips. “I-I dunno.” That was a lie. You could hear it in his voice. If there was one person Steve trusted more than you, it was Bucky. Of course he knew.

“Listen, I really don’t want to talk about this-”

“It’s in the notebook.” You bit your lip as Bucky shifted, pulling out the little notebook from his pocket. “He made lists - he liked lists. He made lists of things you said that made him laugh. Songs that reminded him of you. Little quirks you do that he noticed over the years. He missed you every time you went on a mission and prayed you’d get back safely.”

“James, please-”

“He didn’t want me to let you know. But I had to tell you. You have to know. He loved you.”

You let out a shaky breath as he placed the book on your thigh. You stared at it for a moment, before grabbing it and placing it in his left hand, closing his fingers around it and standing up. “I think…I’m gonna go rest for a bit in the back room. Holler if you need me.”

You didn’t wait for a response, moving quickly to the small back room of the plane which you got dressed in only a couple days ago. It only had one arm chair and instead of a door there was a curtain, but you were fine with that, plopping down in the chair and reclining.

Why? Why would he bring that up? Did he hear more than he said? Was he trying to let you down easy before you could even tell him how you felt? Did he get spooked after dancing? After the almost-kiss?

You never thought of Steve in the wrong. After all he’d done for the world in his life, he deserved to be selfish - to be happy. And Peggy gave him that. But why? Why would he leave if he loved you so dearly? If he really did what Bucky said? He wouldn’t. He’s not cruel. He wouldn’t up and leave, without even saying goodbye, knowing how deeply you loved him and feeling the same about you. This was Steven Grant Rogers for crying out loud! He wouldn’t…right?

But Bucky…he wouldn’t lie to you. He wouldn’t tell you that, especially knowing how much you missed the lovable blonde. And you knew his words held at least some truth. Actions spoke louder than words, and as something Bucky said repeated itself in your mind, you started slipping into a memory, your eyes shutting and your breaths evening out.

“He missed you every time you went on a mission and prayed you’d get back safely.”

~

The incessant knocking made you groan, shouting that you were coming and mumbling curses. You barely threw open the door before his worried voice hit your ears. “Are you okay? Were you hurt?”

“Stevie.” You sighed, rubbing your eyes and looking over at the clock on the wall. “Bubs…it’s two in the morning. I just got back, like, an hour ago.”

He shuffled, pink lips in a pout, eyes round and distressed. “I know, honey. I know. I’m sorry. But I heard you got hurt-”

You shook your head, a small giggle of amusement leaving your lips and you lifted your right hand, letting him see the black split holding your ring and pinky fingers. “I jammed my fingers in a door. The doc said I’ll be fully healed in a month at most.”

His eyes darted across your face and down your body, scanning for any more injuries. After glancing at your hands again, they finally landed on your eyes once more. Next thing you knew, you were being held against his chest, his face in the crook of your neck. You hummed softly, running your fingers down his spine, moving the two of you deeper into your apartment so you could shut the door.

“Don’t ever do that again. I gotta have faith in something and if you come home hurt, it’ll be crushed.”

Your eyebrows knit together. At his strange wording. “What’s that mean?”

“It means you have to promise me you’ll stay safe, honey.” He pulled back and held your face between his hands. “Please.”

“I can promise I’ll try my best.” You teased lightly, smiling at him and booping his nose, making him grin, although it was strained. “Why don’t you stay here tonight? We’ll turn on some TV in my room and you can keep me safe while I get much needed sleep.”

That made his grin relax into a real one, his head nodding in agreement. “Sounds perfect.”

“C’mon, bubs.” You took his hand, leading him to your room. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and you’ll catch some zzzz’s too.”

~

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

“What the hell was that?”

Bucky turned to Sam, who was gaping at him in utter disbelief, looking from the assassin to the doorway Y/N just walked through. “She needed to know.”

“Buck, she’s been dealing with some shit. And we both know something’s going on that she isn’t telling us. Her “zoning out” isn’t just zoning out, and we know that. She doesn’t need you confusing her even more.”

“Confusing her?”

Sam blinked, his troubled expression falling into a deadpan. “Are you fucking with me? No. There’s no way you’re that naive. Seriously?! Man, c’mon!”

Bucky scrunched up his face. “What?”

“She likes you, man! Everyone knows it!”

The brunette shook his head, forehead creased. “No. No, you heard her, Sam. She’s in love with Steve.”

“Was in love. As in past tense.”

“But-but she said- she likes someone else-”

“Barnes!” Sam threw his hands up, exasperated. “You are someone else!”

“I thought you two were already-”

Bucky pointed warningly at Zemo. “Watch it. Wait, wait-” He turned back to Sam. “But I heard her-”

“Bucky…man…” Sam sighed, shaking his head. “Listen, I can’t tell you everything. I’m not about to break my girl’s trust like that. But you gotta hear me when I tell you she likes you. What do you think almost happened at the party?”

“She - I - it was…an accident?”

Sam spluttered, eyes wide. “An accident? You two grinding and nearly making out was an accident?!”

“Woah! We were not…grinding-”

Zemo hummed. “Hmm…you kind of were.”

Bucky glared at him. “Thin. Fucking. Ice.” He whipped back to Sam. “I just remind her of him.”

“What?! That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard! You remind her of Steve? Yes, granted your both dumbasses, but she knows both of you enough to know there’s quite a few big differences.”

“Wilson-”

Sam held up his hand, shutting Bucky up. “You like her. Yes or no.”

Bucky huffed, looking down at the hand she was holding only minutes ago. “Yes.” He finally relented. “Since the first couple months in Wakanda.”

“Steve liked her. Yes or no.”

He ran a hand through his hair, nodding his head. “Yes. Yes he liked her. I wasn’t lying about that.”

“So explain something to me.” Sam crossed his arms. “Why is it that Steve isn’t here, and you are?”

Bucky crossed his arms, brooding - although he’d never admit it - while staring out the window. “Steve…knew. I liked her. And, yes, he loved her, but he also loved Peggy. So he…”

“He told you to take your chance with Y/N, and he went back to be with his first love.”

HYDRA’s former fist nodded with a sigh. “Something like that.”

“You need to tell her.”

“I can’t.”

Sam groaned. “Why not?!”

“Because!” Bucky took a breath, trying not to shout and alert the sleeping girl in the room over, his ears tuning into her slowed heartbeat to make sure she was okay. “Because Steve has her heart, Sam. The whole thing just…I’m jealous of him. Because he got her first. And then I get mad because he didn’t do shit about it. And then I feel guilty because all the shit he put up with for me and here I am complaining…and then I just get…depressed because he’s not here. I used to be the one who fixed his problems. But after I got out…he’s been the one fixing mine. And I just…I don’t know what to do.”

Sam shook his head, rolling his eyes. “I get it. That’s valid. But stop whining and moping around about it. It happened. And you need to get your shit together. If not for your sake, for hers. Because she lost him too. And she’s probably feeling those exact same feelings.”

“But…she’s his girl-”

“No. She’s not. He made his choice.” Sam nodded towards Bucky. “Now you gotta make yours,  Buckaroo.”

He shot him a glare. “You can’t call me that.”

“Why not? Y/N calls you that.”

“Y/N has a plan.”

“We both know that’s not true, Buckaroo. Hey! That one rhymed!”

Bucky shook his head with a scowl. “I will beat your ass, Wilson.”

Sam scoffed, shoving Bucky’s head playfully. “Stop being a dumbass and tell her. Buckaroo.”

“That’s it!”

Bucky tackled Sam to the ground, Zemo giving them an amused expression before leaving to talk to Oeznik. They were so wrapped up in their wrestling session, they didn’t notice the woman leaning against the wall, tired eyes barely opened as her eyebrows raised, unimpressed.

“Are you fellas done?’

They both stopped, shooting up when they noticed her. “Doll, I-”

She shook her head. “Don’t, Buck. Not right now. I’m just really tired.”

“Did we wake you?” Sam winced.

She shook her head again, yawning. “No. I just needed to use the restroom.”

Bucky couldn’t help the small smile as she rubbed her eyes, stretching her arms overhead, making that ripped crop top ride higher up. She was too cute. And she didn’t even realize it.

“Sleep well, doll. We’ll try to keep it down.”

She nodded, turning and waving over her shoulder. “You two try getting sleep, too, alright? Goodnight, Sammy.”

“Night, cher.”

“Sweetheart?” She peeked through the curtain, tilting her head slightly. “You know I love you, right?”

A small smile quirked up her lips, but it was sadder than the ones his question usually elicited. “As long as you know I love you.”

He nodded, returning the half-smile. “G’night, doll.”

“Goodnight, Buckaroo.”

[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!

[narcissisticmf]

training | peter pevensie x fem!reader

description: y/n attempts to learn how to sword fight.

trigger warnings: subtle seductive behavior, violence, sword fighting, foul language, etc. read at your own risk.

word count: 1.1k

It was heavy. The cold metal handle between your petite fingers weighed down your entire arm. Pins and needles were felt beneath the surface of your skin as you made an attempt to lift the blade, keeping it upright before the leather sack of sand in front of you. It hung low from a tree branch out in the field. You hung it there that morning, rather early due to having no desire in being seen by the other Narnians.

Letting out a grunt, you took all your strength in lifting the sword and swung it towards the leather sand bag. Unfortunately, your upper body muscle wasn't strong enough so you stumbled to the side, where your sword's blade swung.

"Why's this shit so heavy?" You grumbled and made an attempt to lift the metal sword again, only having it weigh your shoulders down. You took in a deep breath through your flared nostrils and lifted the sword, blade up with your two hands wrapped around the end of it.

"Focus, Y/N.." You whispered to yourself and gazed at the leather sack, noticing how it stood still even without the wind being able to move it. You took the opportunity to move the swords blade back over your shoulder. Perhaps you hadn't spread your feet wide enough apart the first time, so you stood your ground as steadily as you could before swinging the blade across the leather sack. Your legs stumbled forth after your swing, the sword's tip kissed the ground.

Your warm eyes gazed at the leather sack and noticed a subtle dent was made. You groaned in defeat and stood straight, fixing your posture. With the sword's blade facing the ground, you held it's handle and continued to stare at the leather sack, wondering if it was you or the bag that was the problem.

The dry grass crunched behind you. Your heart sunk into your stomach as you quickly turned around, keeping the sword behind you and out of sight of whomever was heading forth. You were already embarrassed enough about being unable to sword fight and someone watching you practice would make you feel even more pathetic.

"They said you'd be out here," Spoke the voice of Narnia's High King, Peter. You released a nervous breath, your stomach tied in endless knots. You kept the sword behind your back, hidden from Peter's view.

He walked towards you, noticing how nervous you looked. You did your best to remain at ease when his eyes diverted to the leather sack hung from the tree branch.

"Who's they?" You got the courage to ask.

"Susan and Lucy, they said you had something important to do," He stopped walking any further and stood before you, his deep blue eyes gazed into yours. "Might I ask, what was so important that you had to miss lunch?" His voice was soft and it made you release a calm breath, one you didn't realize you'd been holding back in your throat.

"Uh.." You parted your lips softly, "It's nothing, really."

Peter's expression remained the same, but more so this time that he didn't believe a word that came out of your plump lips. "Y/N," Peter stated in an I-know-you're-not-telling-me-the-truth tone. "What's the leather sack for?" He gaze bounced from you to the bag, then back to you.

"I was.. punching it?" You cringed your teeth softly as Peter pressed his lips together. His eyes flickered downwards, noticing your arms were folded behind your back.

"What's that you're holding behind you?" He looked back up to you.

"It's just my hands, I've got nothing behind me," You shook your head and begun to back up further when Peter stepped forth, coming closer ever time you stepped back.

"Then let me see your hands, Y/N," Peter mentioned with a soft smirk.

"No!" You recoiled when you realized you rose your voice, "I mean, they have bruises from the.. leather, yeah. Sorry for yelling, my king."

"How many times have I told you to call me Peter?" He cocked a brow, a small grin appearing upon his lips.

"Maybe a thousand, probably more," You released a soft laugh.

"Now tell me the truth, what were you doing out here that was so important, you had to skip out on lunch?" Peter asked, as you were now back up against the tree's trunk.

You let out a soft sigh and dropped the sword to your side, turning your cheek away from Peter's reaction when it fell against the grass. Your face was flushed with embarrassment, you felt so small especially against the tree with Peter so dangerously close to you. You could hear the pitter-patter of his heartbeat even.

Peter leaned down to retrieve the sword and held it up. He gazed at the blade and then turned to look at you, seeing as you were more nervous than he could comprehend. He smiled softly and gently tossed the sword down. Taking is right hand, he reached up to turn your chin so that you'd make eye contact with him. That alone flooded your stomach with butterflies.

"That sword is too big for you and why didn't you tell me you wanted some training, love?" The petname made you shutter as you stared at him, it was as if he was getting closer and closer but the space between you had already ceased.

"It's embarrassing, Peter," You released a soft whine.

You were cut off from your whine when Peter pressed his forehead to you own. "I find it wonderful that you want to learn how to fight properly with a sword. I'll have one made especially for you, but you have to promise me that you won't go sneaking off to try and practice alone because you're embarrassed, okay?" He looked through his brow to stare at you comfortingly.

"I promise," You nodded gently, feeling the butterflies within your stomach flap their wings faster the closer Peter got. His breath fanned against your own as you leaned your head back against the tree trunk to comfortably look up to him.

"Good," He smiled softly and pulled his head back, still standing close enough to you. "Now, you're probably hungry.." He stepped back and held out his arm for you, "Lunch, my lady?"

You couldn't fight your growing smile as you locked your arm with his as he begun to lead you back to the tent where food was served.

.

a/n: hello beautiful people! so this is my first narnia x reader blurb and i hope you guys liked it! i'm just testing this kind of stuff out, i'm not sure if it'll be a regular thing i'll do but i kinda liked writing it but idk!! 🥺 you guys tell me what you think and if you want more of this stuff! thank you for reading and please be safe! treat people with kindness. — angelina.

[hyuukais]

Hey, Lifeguard!

Juyeon loves his job. It’s the entire reason he was introduced to the attractive resident surfer, Y/n. And as a beach lifeguard he’s got to know swim safely, right?

Word Count: 1.6k

Genre: Juyeon x Reader, lifeguard! juyeon, surfer! reader, slight fluff

Warnings: mentions of blood, drowning, and the ocean, juyeon kinda almost drowns

Author: My contribution to ficscafe au pairing event ! took far longer for me to finish than it should have 💀 also thank you so much @taecup-fics for beta reading this !!

It’s a useless morning for Juyeon already. The stretch of beach he's meant to watch was almost entirely empty, with most of the people he’d seen merely runners or bikers passing by. So, it seemed, the early breeze was left to the two or three surfers out in the waves. The vacant seas, probably perfect conditions to move however they wish. Riding any good wave they can get without having to worry about running into regular beach goers. He watches them from his lifeguard tower, one specific surfer catching his eye.

Y/n floats about thirty meters out from shore, waiting. After being out here for about 30 minutes, that’s all they’ve really done. Wade and duck under when a new wave comes. That’s just a part of their routine, as Juyeon’s come to know. Having met them three years ago when he first took up this summer job, the two quickly became somewhat acquainted. Y/n was a common face amongst the waves who became a lot more known to Juyeon after the first two or three times he’d had to run out to help them. Realizing both were attending the same school in September, a stronger friendship bloomed. The two would talk often on days the beach was calm or empty, such as this one. And by the time his first summer here came to end, Juyeon found his feelings slowly growing for the surfer.

As the water once again begins to recede, he notices a flash upon their face. A smile. Y/n paddles frantically, racing against the rushing current. The water pulls up. Suddenly, it’s breaking, just seconds behind their scramble. The crash sends the board forward and Y/n pushes up. Beamed against the early morning sun, they swerve and sway amongst the white. Juyeon had seen them ride before. Each time more enraptured than the next, watching their grace atop the water. He could always tell they knew exactly what they were doing, but this time it looks like a struggle. The wave moves much faster than anticipated, soon overtaking the board. He stands in alarm as Y/n’s forced beneath the surface; instinct kicks in and he prepares to run—but not before their head pops up. Despite the wipeout, they seemed more annoyed than anything, and swam to the abandoned board. The new waves pushed them towards shore.

Sand flies behind Y/n’s feet as they’re running to a towel piled with their stuff. It sat only a few feet away from Juyeon, and it gives him a better view of their mopped hair.

“You all good?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, a bit out of focus, I guess. Though, I think my leg got caught on a shell or coral of some sort.” They twisted their hips to display a gash running across their calf. Blood pooled from it, causing Juyeon to suck in a breath.

“Hold on,” he turned to rummage through his guard bag and pulled out an antiseptic wipe and bandage. The sand collapsed under his knee as Juyeon knelt down to their leg.

“Oh, how chivalrous of you, but at least take me on a date first.”

He laughs, beginning to apply the towelette and rid their skin of red. “I’m just doing my job. I bet you would like it if I did take you out though, wouldn’t you?”

“Who says no to free food?”

“Who said anything about food?”

“Well then, what kind of date are you thinking of?”

“Oh, a lot of things, but I guess you may never know.”

Y/n says nothing in return as he stands, their leg now plastered with a rainbow band-aid. Looking at them, he notices the flush of embarrassment fallen over them.

“There, all fixed up. Now be careful going back out. Don’t wanna use up all my nice band-aids.” They chuckle, making him smile before continuing. “But, I wanted to ask if I will be seeing you at the end-of-year beach thing this Friday?”

“What?”

“The boys, and I, I guess, are throwing this hybrid beach-frat party for the end of the year. I was wondering if you wanted to come.”

“Oh? Are you actually asking me on a date?” They jokingly bring up the topic from earlier, not respecting the response he gave

“Maybe. So, will I see you there?”

Y/n’s eyes visibly widen at the implication, “Oh, um, yeah. Sounds like a date!”

“Great! I shall see you on Friday then.”

Loud shouts echo in the dark. Students laugh and mingle, chattering amongst friend groups. A huge, sweltering bonfire rose from the sand. People danced and sang around it, some chasing each other dangerously close to the flames. There were even a select few wading in the sea. A party was in full swing and Juyeon was trapped in the middle. Strangers were crowded into his side, limiting his ability to move away from the mass of party-goers. He tried his best to squeeze around the crowd. Though he made sure to look around as he did so, eyes peeled for a glimpse of Y/n somewhere at this party. Finally, he made it out of the more packed area around the fire. With fewer people loitering around, he took the chance to sit. From a farther vantage point, there was still no sign of Y/n, yet he didn’t doubt that they’d arrive shortly. Instead, he opted to turn his attention towards the night. Far from the brightest streetlights, stars twinkled clear in the sky. Some remain dimmer under the illumination of the blaze, but are nonetheless visible. Waves fall in ambient noise cruelly contrasted with the pumping bass. Enough sounds clashing that Juyeon barely hears the shift of someone making their way to his side.

“Hey, lifeguard!” Y/n’s shoulder knocks against his as they plop on the beach, scaring him a little.

“Jesus, you scared me!”

“Haha, sorry. I saw you sitting alone so I came over.”

“Ah. Yeah, the crowd’s a bit much for me; The stars are really nice, though.”

“Mm,” they hum, looking upwards. Juyeon took the chance to take in their features. Light reflects against the color in their irises. It dances across the white and black, blending with the fire's orange tinge, like an entire galaxy held within just their sight. “The moon as well.”

“Mhm.” Red flares against his ears as they turn to face him. “So, um, do you wanna go for a swim?”

“Hm? I dunno, isn’t it a bit too dark for that?”

“Well, why don’t I go out and check and you can make sure nothing bad happens to me.” He winks, turning towards the shore and stripping himself of his shirt.

“Ha! Don’t die!”

Waves rack against Juyeon’s body. The current pulls stronger than usual, but he turns around to make his point.

“Y’know, it’s not too bad!” Though, he’s silenced as another wave smacks the back of his head, eliciting a laugh from Y/n. He continues on moving further and further out, eliciting a laugh from Y/n. They watch as he tries to continue moving out. It gets harder to see, the ocean mirroring the night’s pitch black and the tide significantly rougher. Regret settled in his chest, but he was unable to make the decision to turn back. A new wave rose ahead, smacking down ferociously. Juyeon was knocked under. Swept up in the rush, his head was unable to come back up. Ice ran atop his skin. Darkness completely prevailed in an attempt to shut out the burning salt. He felt trapped, jerked, rolling along with the rush of water, unable to fight. Everything happened so suddenly, nothing had kicked in to tell him to move. To push upwards. To strain for a breath as oxygen ran thin. Shock-stunned, his mind couldn’t register the tight grip squeeze around the stomach. As air hit his face, realization set in. Juyeon had been out quite far, yet now found himself tumbled into shallower tide, Y/n’s panicked face falling close above his. Their hands held tight upon his shoulders. Lips trembling inches from his cheek.

“Oh god, I,” They scrambled away, panic now presenting itself in their voice. “Are you okay? I, just, I saw you go under and you weren’t coming back up so I panicked and went out to try and help and oh god, are you hurt, did something cut you or-”

“No, no, no, no, I’m okay! I’m okay,” he latches on their flailing hands, trying to calm them, if only a little. From here, he began to take it in. Their drenched clothes, shaking hands, wide eyes. Finally, he sits up with them but does not let go of their hands.

“Are-are you sure?”

“Yes, and Y/n, thank you for trying to save me.”

“I mean, your job requires you too but, I know you’d do the same for me.”

“Eh…”

They smack his arm, laughing in unison.

“Oh shut up! Just know you owe me now.”

“Oh do I?”

“Yes.”

“Well, then what exactly do I owe you?”

Y/n stands, sand and cloth clinging like a second skin. Their hands fall down to Juyeon’s in a silent offer to pull him up. “How about a date where you don’t almost drown? I mean, when you said something other than food, I definitely did not think you meant this.”

He grabs on, raising up, just as sandy, hands not leaving even when fully standing. “How about we start now? I do have some better ideas, I promise.”

“First,” Palms found purchase upon his cheeks, Y/n pushing up towards him. And in one swift motion, their lips landed atop his, moving softly almost cautious despite how headfirst they jumped into the position. Juyeon melted. His arms fell to their waist without much thought. Warmth spreading down, it filled each vein and hole, swelled in his heart and across his skin. As the kiss broke, their hands shakily pulled away, obviously just as flushed.

“So, uh, yeah, let’s get on to that date.”

[magniloquent-raven]

soulmate au part 3!!!!

(read part 1 and part 2 here)

it takes three weeks for anything to happen.

they see each other at school, exchange glances in class, brush past each other in the hallways, fingers grazing as their shoulders bump, incidental touches that wouldn’t draw attention but still leave billy tingling and giddy and embarrassed at himself but…

he’s still getting used to having a soulmate. a real, tangible person he can reach out and touch.

and maybe he’d get used to it faster if he could touch him more, but life keeps conspiring against them. they can’t seem to get a second alone. when it isn’t steve’s kids are crawling all over him 24/7 it’s neil breathing down billy’s neck because he ran out on one fucking class.

well, and then had to lie to neil about why, which was probably what put neil on high alert, but still.

three goddamn weeks.

and neither of them have been patient about it. steve keeps writing billy notes. in the middle of class scrawling things like you have nice eyes and i wanna spend time with you and billy can fucking feel how smug steve gets about making him blush. it’s all he can do not to make a scene in front of half their peers. sometimes he’s not sure if he’d punch steve for being an asshole or kiss him for being sweet.

or both. he can do both.

but mostly he wants time, and somewhere to just...be. with steve.

and he gets that, three weeks after their conversation in the parking lot. steve’s parents will be out of town, and his kids have some stupid game night planned. max keeps asking to go but pretending she isn’t, badly feigning disinterest, and best of all, neil and susan are planning a weekend trip to visit susan’s bedridden aunt a few hours away.

billy is determined to take full advantage of those thirty-six hours. neither of them will acknowledge it directly, but he knows max will tell neil he was home all weekend if she has to. he has no reason to be nervous about being caught, or anything else. it’ll be fine.

it’ll be fine.

he tells himself that over and over but it doesn’t stop him from checking every corner of the house in case neil’s hiding behind a door somewhere before he can even think about getting ready to leave.

he checks again after he’s showered and dressed.

thankfully max is already gone, so she’s not there to see him pacing around like a neurotic rat in a maze.

it almost worse that he isn’t just anxious, he’s excited. and it’s making him twitchy.

there’s no plan. they aren’t going on a date or anything. he’s just...going to steve’s house. steve’s empty house. he’s going to be alone with his soulmate. the list of reasons why that scares him is endless.

and he’s not sure if he’s more terrified of the possibility that steve won’t ask about the makeup thing or the possibility that he will.

knocking on the harringtons’ front door is. an experience. it shouldn’t be. it’s just a fucking door. but billy’s palms are sweating and suddenly he has no idea what he’s even going to say, and he keeps glancing over his shoulder even though he doesn’t really know what he’s looking for, and it feels like he’s been standing on the porch for a fucking eternity but—

his worries don’t exactly melt away when steve opens the door but there is a warm flutter in his chest that’s...new. and distracting.

and steve smiles at him all sunshine and chocolate, and the second the door closes behind them he grabs billy’s hand, wide-eyed, questioning, watching billy’s reaction.

his palm is just as sweaty as billy’s and it’s gross, but also kind of comforting.

“hello to you too,” billy snickers, and steve visibly relaxes, lacing their fingers together properly.

“hi,” he breathes quietly, his gaze soft, but intense, focused. “waiting sucked, okay. i’ve been wanting to do that forever.” he shakes their joined hands for emphasis.

“...that all you were waiting to do?”

steve’s grin turns sly, and his gaze drops a little. “no.”

billy wants to kiss him. he wants to be kissed. he wants steve’s mouth on him, somewhere, anywhere, right now. it’s a nice mouth. he’s spent a lot of time looking at it, and thinking about it, about the way the steam from the showers turned his lips so, so red, wet and slick and both too close and too far away, wondering what he’d taste like—

but steve turns away, taking all the air in billy’s lungs with him. it’s so jarring a shift that billy actually sways a little before he gets ahold of himself and lets steve tug him by hand and lead him upstairs.

the wallpaper in steve’s room has to be some kind of hate crime, but billy doesn’t have time to dwell on it, because there’s a beige bag sitting conspicuously on top of steve’s neatly made bed. the clear plastic top is zipped shut, dusty with age and spilled powders, but billy can still make out tubes of lipstick and eyeliner pencils through the haze.

he stops in the doorway and stares at it, thoughts at a stand-still.

steve’s still clutching his hand, tighter now, and no longer pulling him along. “i—uh. the bag was my mom’s, i think. found it crumpled up under the sink, so, like. she probably doesn’t even remember it exists. and the stuff in it is...new.”

“...new,” billy echoes faintly.

“yeah. yeah, i—i bought it. had no idea what i was looking for though, so i hope i did alright.”

billy blinks at him.

“was—was that okay? i know maybe isn’t exactly a yes, but i kinda hoped it could be, y’know? it’s—it’s totally cool if it isn’t. if you’re—if you’re not up for it. or…” he trails off awkwardly and grimaces.

billy takes a breath. “i’m up for it,” he assures steve with more confidence than he feels.

and steve absolutely beams at him. “yeah?”

“yeah.”

turns out steve not knowing what he was looking for meant he bought...everything.

as billy pokes through the mess he tries not to feel too apprehensive. or at least tries not to let it show. too much. he chews his thumbnail, picking up an eyeliner pencil with the other hand. it’s good shit, all the products are, with fancy names for colours and designer labels. it’s all leagues better than the drugstore clearance shelf crap he lifted as a kid. which doesn’t make this any less nerve-wracking.

“it’s been a while since i did this, so. don’t expect it to be, fucking, art or anything.”

steve shuffles closer from his spot at the foot of the bed and touches billy’s knee. “the eyeliner earlier this year…?” he gestures vaguely at his own face, eyebrows raised.

“friend of mine did that,” billy mutters.

and then his whole goddamn life came crashing down around him because of it.

his anxiety spikes, and he drops the pencil back into the pile, shoving the bag away. “i can’t fucking do this,” he snaps, and he’s halfway standing already when steve reaches for him, alarmed.

“billy, wait—” the hand on his elbow is soft, gentle, but he still flinches away. steve withdraws, fingers curled, lips parted, shock and hurt at war on his face. “i’m sorry. i—shit, i’m sorry—”

“don’t.” billy shakes his head, pulling away further. his lungs hurt. there isn’t enough air in this room. “just—forget it. this was a mistake.”

he’s through the door and heading down the stairs before he can think about it, before steve can respond. he wouldn’t have heard him anyways, not over the echoes of his father’s voice that follow him no matter how fast he flees.

but he stops just short of leaving. stands on the ugly little mat by the front door and stares down at it, his forehead inches away from resting against the wooden doorjamb.

he doesn’t want to leave.

he doesn’t want to go anywhere but back upstairs.

and...he kind of hates it. he has no reason to want that. he barely fucking knows steve, and he certainly doesn’t owe him anything. not a look at his authentic self or even a fucking apology. nothing.

so why does he want to give him all of that and more.

why.

it’s fucking terrifying and ridiculous and confusing and…

“billy?” steve calls out tentatively, far enough away that billy doesn’t startle. he’s making his way down the stairs.

if he’s gonna run, it’s now or never.

now…

or…

he turns around, and leans back, his shoulder thudding heavily as he hits the wall. his eyes itch, and rubbing them doesn’t help.

“billy…” steve’s right in front of him now, hovering just shy of being close, worry etched into every line of his face. “i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have pushed, i’m sorry—”

“not your fault,” billy mumbles, muffled against his palm. “stop apologizing, harrington.”

steve sucks his bottom lip between his teeth. “i...uh.”

“you were gonna do it again weren’t you.”

“...no.”

billy snorts quietly, head falling against the cold wallpaper at his back. “fuck,” he exhales, hand dropping to his shoulder. “look, this is...threatening to be the best fucking thing that ever happened to me, and good things don’t just—it never lasts. it always blows up in my face, and you should know that before you get caught up in it too.”

there’s an awful, drawn-out pause while steve purses his lips and tilts his head and looks billy up and down, his gaze gentle despite the scrutiny.

“i want to touch you,” steve says quietly. he waits for billy’s hesitant nod before he wraps his arms around and tucks his face into the crook of billy’s neck. “i’ve been waiting for you my whole life, hargrove, you’re not scaring me off that easily.”

and...billy always wanted to believe in the romantic notions people wrote about in songs. soulmates being destined for each other. epic, unconditional love. he never had any reason to believe it was real, but he clung to it anyway. despite the part of him that was wary, afraid of putting too much stock in something that might break his heart later on.

so for steve to just outright say it like that…so matter of fact. the reality of the situation smacks him in the face a little.

he puts his hands on steve’s waist, slipping under his shirt to rest against soft bare skin. touching him feels...right. when he lets himself feel, lets himself be here, in the moment. the sweet scent of steve’s hair, the warmth of his breath, the soothing pressure of his fingertips smoothing the wrinkled fabric of billy’s shirt. it all adds up to a feelings that billy can only describe as home.

not home like the place, but home like the warmth of sunlight and sand between his toes, ocean spray on his lips. a feeling he’s always had to chase to capture, but somehow it’s...here. quiet and still, and nothing like he’s used to, but it’s here.

and his touch seems to put steve at ease as well, he practically melts into billy’s embrace, which does strange and addictive things to billy’s heart.

but he can’t just shut his fucking mouth and enjoy the moment.

“bet i could, though. scare you off. i might, some day.”

“billy,” steve sighs, and pulls back enough to look him in the eye. “trust me when i say, you’ll never even make the top ten scariest things i’ve seen.”

and he wants to scoff, or feel insulted, or push the issue, start a fight, but. there’s a hollow look in steve’s eye. it’s not the face of some sheltered rich boy who thinks he’s a big man, no, there’s truth there. billy believes him.

stopping the tide of questions is almost physically painful, but he knows there’s no going down that road today. he’s hiding enough of his own skeletons to be sure they aren’t ready for that yet.

he might just be ready for something else though.

“i wanna try again.”

steve blinks at him, confused for a beat, two, and. “oh!” his lips part around the exclamation, distracting billy for a moment. “the—the makeup? you don’t— you don’t have to.”

“i want to.” he hesitates, and then presses a brief kiss to the tip of steve’s nose, startling a smile out of him. billy grins back. “i want to.”

[totiredtowrite]

Haunted: How To Find A Body

Warnings - talk of d3ath, murd3r, mentions of bl00d, and some curse words

Note: The warnings make it sound really bad but I promise that this is more lighthearted than you might think T^T. This is turning out longer than I thought, may have to make a part three. (Also couldn't let this sit in the drafts any longer). If you read the first part, thanks bestie ily, and here have part two <3

Part One Here

Male Reader

Maybe rooming with a ghost wasn't so bad.

Ushijima narrowed his eyes, and looked up from the book he was attempting to study.

You weren't the worst roommate, but being around a literal dead guy was something that Ushijima never really counted on. You reminded him of Tendou, if he was dead and a little more nihilistic. You were floating around his room, the foggy, wispy version of you becoming the most prominent.

Feeling his eyes on the back of your neck, you jolted and quit poking at his bed, turning to look at him.

"...Are you going to say something or will we be at this for an hour?" You said, body shifting to a more solid version. Ushijima considered what to say as you fell onto his bed, arms behind your head in a relaxed manner.

Your solid form, (which Ushijima found out the hard way), wasn't actually all that solid. You couldn't really touch or hold anything for too long. Ushijima just thought that you could because you touch him all the time.

Getting bored, you let your body fall through his bed. Even as a (mostly solid) version of yourself, it takes a little bit of effort to hold and sit on stuff.

Ushijima turned all the way around in his chair and waited for you to get comfortable again, this time floating just above his bed as an apparition.

He bit his lip, considering the question for a few more seconds before finally saying it. "You said we need to find your body," he was clearly struggling with what to say. Seeing as he doesn't ever have the need to talk much, this was a little difficult. "How will finding it make you...live again?"

You laughed. "Finally! I've been waiting forever for you to ask!" Ushijima didn't comment on the obvious. (You really could have just told him).

You floated over to Ushijima and took his hand in your cloudy one. "When we find my body, you put the ring on. Then I'll live again!" You looked up at him. You wanted your eyes to look excited, but it was rather hard to find the glint in a dead mans eye.

Ushijima tilted his head. That made absolutely no sense.

You, sensing his obvious confusion, rolled your eyes and dropped his hand. "I kinda forgot to mention, something," you gave him a little smile, "Undead can't just bond with anyone. It doesn't happen much."

Ushijima deadpanned. "What?"

You shrugged and continued. "Most who die just kind of move on. Very few stay behind."

He still looked confused, so you huffed and continued to explain. "I've had that ring since I was a little boy. When I died I was wearing it, so it kind of kept me tethered here." You absentmindedly played with the bloodied edge of your sweater. "In turn it will allow me to live again."

He tugged on his bottom lip with his teeth for a few seconds before opening his mouth again. "Who- Who murdered you?"

The smile dropped from your face.

The silence felt a little overbearing for a minute before you spoke. "I don't really know," you continued with a sigh, "It's like as the years went on and on, I forgot more about who I was." You were back to playing with your sweater sleeve. "I feel like I've told you most everything I know about myself."

He sat silently, eyes focused on you when you spoke again.

"When I woke up somewhere away from my body, I just kind of knew what I needed to do to live again. I knew about the bonded stuff, I knew who I needed to find...It's like the information was just planted there as a default when I woke up."

He nodded slowly, still not completely understanding. "You mean to say," he tugged on the ring a bit, "ghosts aren't common?"

You nodded. "The only ones who stay behind are tethered by something. Maybe an object, maybe they were murdered and have unfinished business." You looked him in the eye. "In my case, it's both."

Ushijima looked down, a confused frown etched onto his lips as another thought struck him. If the ring was on your body when you died, how come it ended up in front of his school?

The unanswered questions don't stop here, though for now he'll have to make due with what he's got.

🂠🃑🃁🂱🂡

"Wakatoshi-kun, since when did you wear rings?" Tendou raised his brows coyly and poked at Ushijima's finger.

"My mother gave it to me," he lied through his teeth. He was surprised he could think of something that fast, seeing as he hardly slept the night before.

One thing Ushijima wasn't prepared for when it comes to living with a ghost is all the watching. You had explained that you don't need sleep, but it's still terrifying when he wakes up to you staring at him from the foot of his bed.

"Look at you Ushiwaka, what a family man!" Tendou laughed.

Ushijima nodded, and let his eyes trail to you.

You were floating around in your usual cloudy ghost form, messing with people by plucking their pencils out of their hands or shutting their lockers. You had practically begged him to let you come along the night before, and he agreed on a few conditions.

Don't do anything disruptive.

Don't make people aware of your presence.

Don't interfere with practice.

Aside from the first rule, you were doing rather well at everything else. You turned your head to grin at him from on top of the lockers. He quickly looked away and back down, pinching his temple. "Tendou, I forgot something." Ushijima forced out, not waiting for an answer before he turned to head back to the gym club room. You knew that he wanted you to follow.

"Soo Wakatoshi, what do you want?" You said with a smile, turning upside down.

"You've been mildly disruptive," Ushijima says gruffly.

You frown. "I've gotta do something you know!"

"Weren't you not supposed to be disruptive?"

"It isn't fun being dead you know," you huff and float over his head. "My body wasn't ever found or buried! I don't even get to watch people cry at my grave like some of the other tethered."

"Didn't you say ghosts weren't common?"

"Of course there'd be tethered in grave yards! Literally they have to stay until their body decomposes!" You poked him harshly in his chest, landing on the ground in your solid shape.

Ushijima looked away before speaking. "Bundle of knowledge."

You retract your arm. "Yeah, well, a lot goes into the undead care package."

Ushijima turns his body around to face away from you. "Where would we find body?" He said it more to himself than you, but in good nature, you responded anyways.

"Probably around here."

Ushijima turns back.

"I mean," you start, "if we're looking for the bloodied body of a teenage boy, we should probably start with places he'd recognize, right?"

The shocked look didn't leave his face as he lurched forward to grab your dirty sweater. "And you didn't tell me?" He ground out.

"Down boy," your body changes form faster than Ushijima could pull you closer, and he nearly fell over. "I just remembered." You rolled your eyes.

"Hopeless," he muttered.

He takes it back. Being stuck with a ghost is just as bad as he thought it would be.

[auriel187]

The More Things Change (S1 E2)

Word Count: 3872

Series Masterlist

A/N: If anyone doesn't like the fact that the oc is black, go away.

"Say you could pick any hero to be your dad, who would you pick?" Cory asked as I sat down without my eyes leaving the page of "Black Like Me." I often wonder what ! did to deserve these ridiculous questions at nine in the morning.

Ellis answered instantly. "Batman, no question. Live in a cool cave, borrow the Batmobile." I looked up at them and saw Shawn nodding his head in agreement.

"He lets Robin hang out with him and play with all his stuff. And Robin's not even his real kid. He's his ward." He answered and I had to admit that was a good point.

Ellis looked over at Shawn and asked "How do you get to be a ward?" But everyone at the table actively ignored his question as Cory rolled his eyes and I knew there was about to be another overly dramatic Cory rant.

"Batman? Is he faster than a speeding bullet? I don't think so. Is he more powerful than a locomotive? Uh-uh. I'd want Superman." Shawn and I immediately scoffed.

"Sees through walls. You'd never get away with anything." He said and I nodded in agreement.

Ellis was out of it at the moment, still thinking of being Batman's ward. "Because I'd make somebody a very cool ward."

Cory then looked back at Shawn and I. "I'd like to have Superman for a dad."

Shawn looked over at me and then smiled. "Sunshine's probably got a better answer." He smirked at me and I turned my comic over to him. "Black Panther?" I nodded my head and he smiled at me. "Why?"

"He's a genius, he's a king, he's friends with Mjolnir! And I get Storm as a mom!" I smiled and Cory glared at me.

"I meant DC not Marvel." He whined and I rolled my eyes. Well, you should have specified.

We all laughed, I read my comic quietly before Shawn turned to the table next to us. "Hey, there's Minkus." He grinned maliciously as he reached under the table; pulled out a squirt gun and shot Minkus in the head.

"Ow." The scrawny blond ignoring Shawn. My attention was back on Cory when he gawked at Shawn's squirt gun.

"Whoa! The 2000-X Hydro-Saturator!"

Shawn grinned proudly. "Careful. If Feeny sees this baby on school grounds, he'll shag it, and I'll have to sit out the water wars." He stated, putting the squirt gun back under the table.

Ellis reached under the table and pulled out a squirt gun. "Gentlemen, meet the Hydro-Sat 3000-Z. Blow your head clean off." I looked up at him.

"Hey, I'm not a guy!" I exclaimed, putting my book down. Ellis just waved me off. "Yeah yeah," he said, mocking me. "You'd never make it in a water war. You're too scared to get your hair wet." The table fell silent.

Cory was first to break the silence. "The 3000? That's not even supposed to come out till Christmas."

Ellis nodded smugly. "I know a guy." he replied, putting extra emphasis on the 'guy' and he shot Minkus in the head. I quickly put my hair up and crouched down. Kinda using Shawn as a human shield. He didn't mind, in fact he pulled me closer and covered my head.

Minkus sat up straighter. "You really shouldn't do that." He puts his book down, stands up.

Shawn looked over at him and instinctively wrapped his arm around me. "What, are you gonna melt?"

Minkus scoffed. "No.'' He lifted a huge case onto his table, opened it and took out a squirt gun. Minkus turned to face Cory, Shawn, Ellis and I. "I'm going to retaliate." Ellis holds up his squirt gun, ready to shoot but Minkus holds up his squirt gun threateningly in retaliation. "Go ahead...make me wet." When Ellis puts his squirt gun down Minkus smiles and victoriously says in the same voice. "Wise choice." Oh, dear. These people are idiots.

"Raven, Mystic Queen of the Night." he bowed and sat back down and I nearly puked. That was extremely uncomfortable and not gonna lie, sounded kind of racist.

Cory grumbled irrately "Ah, who needs one of those?" I knew instantly that this was gonna bite him in the butt. And I was right! Just as Cory stood up and walked towards the water fountain holding a water balloon Shawn pushed my head down on the table. "For your information, a well-placed water balloon can give you just as much splash for your cash."

Shawn smiled as he reached under the table for his squirt gun as Cory began to fill up the water balloon. Cory spoke again, this time more to himself. "Like everyone's gonna have a humongous water gun." Just as he turned around, he looked shocked to see everyone pointing squirt guns at him.

"How are ya?" He smiled nervously. That's when everyone started shooting. "Aah! Aah! Stop! I'll get one! I promise! Oh, my G-- I'll get one! Stop! I promise!" he exclaimed and I was in a fit of laughter. That was until I saw a shadow by the cafeteria door. I grabbed Shawn's water gun and put it back under the table, just as Feeny walked in.

Just after he saw Cory soaking wet; he put down his tray and walked over to the water fountain. "Mr. Matthews...the drinking fountain is not a toy." He took a sip of water, flicked his mustache and walked off. As soon as he walked away, I reached under the table and pulled up Shawn's water gun and aimed it at Ellis.

"Now...I think I deserve an apology, Ellis." I snide with faux contempt. Shawn looked at me then at Ellis as he tried to grab his water gun. Shawn looked over at him and was about to say something before I stopped him.

"I got it, Shawnie. I've got a 2000-X Hydro-Saturator. At three quarter capacity it surpasses the water fill capacity of the Hydro-Sat 3000-Z which I know for a fact is at one fifth fill because you shot Cory at the fountain if you're lucky. But know that before you can even pick up your water gun, you'll be soaked to the bone." All three boys were slack jawed.

Ellis, ever prideful, looked me up and down and leaned back in his seat. "What's to fear? Little girl, who's afraid to get her hair wet, gonna do to a man like me?"

"I don't got time for you child!" I did my best impression of Tootie Ramsey and Ellis just rolled his eyes again. So I lifted up the gun a little higher, calculating the arc trajectory in my head.

"See, she can't even aim the gun properly." Ellis said, looking at Cory and Shawn for a laugh. Chump.

I shot water just enough that the stream landed on his pants. I used up all the water in Shawn's gun and I don't think he minded at all. In fact he looked at me like I fell from the heavens. "You are the most amazing-" he started only to get a water balloon to the side. "CORY!" he exclaimed.

The sopping wet curly haired boy gagged. "If you guys kiss I'm gonna puke." he said as he sat back down only to receive my deadly glare.

"You're lucky you didn't get my hair wet, Cory! I would've killed you." I said pulling my hair into a braid just in case.

"Why's it so important that you don't get your hair wet?" Shawn asked, looking at my hair which I had straightened a week ago. Sometimes his total obliviousness kills me.

"I'm black, Shawnie." I replied. But that didn't help. He just looked more confused. This is why it's important to teach critical race theory to kids.

"So...does that mean you're not coming to do the water war tomorrow?" he asked and he genuinely looked sad. I grabbed his hand and squeezed.

"I'll be there. As long as I get my apology." I turned to Ellis with a hardened glare. When Ellis didn't do anything Shawn grabbed Ellis' Hydro-Sat and aimed it at him.

"Ellis, you better apologize, man. She's good at everything, I want her on my team!" He threatened and I laughed. Cory, again, looked like he was going to puke.

"I'm sorry." Ellis finally conceded. But Shawn didn't seem satisfied.

"Sorry for what?" I could hear the smirk on his face. I leaned closer to Ellis and loudly whispered "For being a misogynist."

"I'm sorry for being a massagerist?" He said with his hands up but Shawn kept the gun aimed at Ellis until he got the okay to put it down.

"Good enough, I guess. Ellis, I'm disappointed in you. The Hydro-Sat was your best defence and you left it completely insecure for enemy use." I teased him. He has a tendency of taking the role as Drill Sergeant in our games.

"We can't all be as smart as you, Sunshine." Shawn smiled at me, putting the water gun back under the table.

Cory gagged again. "You've gotta be doing it on purpose at this point.

+=+=+=+=+

"Rae, Rae!" I heard just outside my room. I was still getting ready for the water war and I was leaving absolutely nothing to chance. I had a packet of water balloons in my boots and a map for rigging traps. Seeing how the water war would be closer to my house, I had a home field advantage.

I had never actually participated in the water wars with my friends growing up. My dad told me that a game like that wasn't fit for a girl. Mama didn't like when he said stuff like that. This year though, Jazmyne had told Jefferson that there would be a water war this weekend and that it'd probably be best to stay inside.

She then saw the sad look in my eyes and came and sat next to me. "I'm not allowed to play." I told her and she snorted at me. She made the point that I was smarter and tougher than most of my friends.

"Dad!" She exclaimed as she walked into the kitchen with the plan we made. "Black bird has a plan for the water war on Saturday. We need some help." She said and I half expected Jefferson to walk away but he sat down at the table with us and looked over the plan. He pointed out flaws in our layout and showed us where better advantage points would be.

That night we went to seven different stores to get what we needed. Jazz suggested building rope bridges to connect tree to tree and to hide them in the leaves.

On Friday night, we ran around the neighborhood hiding buckets of water (covered so they wouldn't get contaminated) and extra water guns. We rigged traps with Jefferson's help and he even fixed my tree house to lock from the inside after we fixed my snack system to load and store water.

Now Jazmyne was fixing my outfit, which was a black t-shirt muted, magenta capris and a hat so my hair didn't get too wet. She gave me a thumbs up and a salute.

"Rae Rae, your boys are here!" Jefferson yelled from downstairs as I grabbed my water guns and headed down to meet them.

"You have 2 water guns?" Shawn asked, before Jefferson nodded at him in response.

"Your little ray of sunshine don't play around." Jefferson looked at the boys, before he looked at Shawn. "You're on her team?"

"Yes, sir." Shawn smirked proudly.

"Good luck." He said to the others and closed the door. We walked to Cory's house to pick him up, but I could smell the paint before we even got to him.

Shawn smiled when he got into Cory's yard. "Water war time, Cory." He said, with his arm slung around me. I playfully pushed him off me just as Minkus ran in, wearing a yellow rainsuit.

"Waaaaaaaar!" He shouted and I jumped.

Shawn happily swung his arm over the short blonde's shoulder. "War brings out the beast in Minkus."

Cory scoffed at us. "You kids and your water wars. I'd love to join you, but I'm having way too much fun here." he said as he literally put down the paint brush he was using.

Shawn's smile fell as Cory tried to remain nonchalant. "You're bailing on the water war?" He asked and my heart broke a little at his pout.

Ellis looked at Cory as though he were an idiot, which to be fair, it was Cory. "To paint a fence?" Cory forced a smile that was so fake I was concerned how the others were fooled by it.

"You say paint a fence, I say par-ty. And by the way, even if you wanted to, I wouldn't cut you in on this action." I rolled my eyes just as Shawn's whole demeanor took a sad turn.

"Why not? I thought we were friends." I pouted and leaned my head on his shoulder.

"Oh, Shawnie." He looked down at me and there was absolutely no way of hiding those sad blue eyes.

Ellis cringed at us before turning back to Cory. "Yeah, how come you're cutting us out?" I groaned. "Okay, okay, enough!" I turned to Cory. He tried to keep a straight face but I saw passed it. "We're not helping you, Cory!"

He placed his hand on his chest in offence, Shawn and Ellis both looked at me confused. That's when Minkus stepped in.

"People, people, am I the only one who read the summer reading list?" He pauses when nobody answers. "Tom Sawyer? I'm certain the Lovely Dessert Flower understands what I'm talking about." Shawn pulled me closer as I shuttered in disgust. The day Minkus stopped saying this stuff was the day Shawn and Cory dominated the world due to superior intellect. "He's sucking you in to do the work for him." Yeah...Cory's dead.

"Guys, who are you gonna listen to, me or the banana?"

Shawn pretended to be deep in thought, contemplating the answer. "Well, let's see. The banana says play. You say work. We're gonna hang with the big yellow guy." Shawn began to walk out of Cory's backyard with his arm still securely around me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Cory pull money out of his pocket and hold it up to me and Shawn.

"OK, look, I got seven bucks left after buying my Hydro-Sat, and it's yours if you help me paint the fence." Cory bargained, I rolled my eyes. I'm not helping him out of the mess he got himself into.

Minkus turned to Shawn and Ellis. "I say we hold out for lunch," He said before pointing his squirt gun at Cory. "and that's Mr. Banana to you, bud." I went and plopped down on the loveseat, watching silently as Cory handed the money to Shawn who sat down and picked up the paint brush.

+=+=+=+=+

I had been sitting down for nearly 40 minutes reading. I would occasionally look up to see if the others would come to their senses and leave to clean up his own mess and learn from his mistakes. But no, they slaved away doing work Cory should be doing himself and Cory was nowhere in sight. "Shawnie, would you rather have Captain America's Shield or Magneto's helmet?" I asked, still reading my comic.

I heard him chuckle and I smiled. "I don't know any telepaths, so the shield." He responded and I stood up and made him look at me. Dead in the eye. He tried to suppress his smile but eventually he let it slip. "What are you doing?"

"I'm reading your mind." I replied, continuing to look into his bright blue eyes. "You think I'm crazy, you wanna borrow my X-Men comics collection and you're really craving that ice cream Cory's getting even though you just ate half of my sandwich." I pinched his arm because I was hungry.

"Okay, go sit down before I think of something bad." He joked and I went back to my comic just as Cory entered the backyard holding the ice cream bars. Shawn, Ellis, and Minkus stop working and walked towards Cory but I was already next to him so I just stood up.

"What flavor did you bring us?" Shawn asked good naturedly, but Cory replied with annoyance, handing them the ice cream bars. "Vanilla. They're vanilla with chocolate on the outside, just like they've been for 1,000 years!"

"Watch it Cory, we could be having a water war right now. They don't need to be doing your work for you, so watch your attitude!"

"Bold talk for someone who isn't even helping." Cory mumbled under his breath. But I heard him and I glared. "What was that, Matthews?" But he didn't say anything. Yeah, I thought so!

Minkus made a face at the ice cream bar. "I really prefer a Heath Bar Crunch." I looked at Minkus knowing that Cory was gonna overreact.

"Ya do?!" He grabbed the ice cream bar and dipped it in the dirt before he handed it back to Minkus. Yup, there it is. I began packing my stuff. "Here you are, Minkus. Crunch on this."

Minkus looked at Cory aghast. "Is it just me, or is he copping an attitude?" I rolled my eyes. I literally just said that.

Shawn stepped closer to me. "I'm beginning to feel unwelcome here."

Ellis looked at us. "Water war?" to which Minkus and Shawn nodded in agreement. "Water war." Shawn, Ellis, Minkus and I started walking away and Cory wasn't having it.

"Hey, come on, come on! I paid you! I brought you sandwiches! I brought you ice cream!" He shouted. Shawn rolled his eyes and turned to the curly haired boy "Yeah, so?" Cory looked like he was going to explode.

"So I'm gonna sue you!" Oh, the lecture I had for him once Shawn continued walking back.

"Fine. Have your lawyer call my mom." He took a bite of his ice cream as he walked away. He turned to look at me when he noticed I wasn't following but he smiled when I told him to go ahead.

"You know, you could've at least helped! The guys at least helped but you just sat there and read your comic book!"

I glared at him. "Cory, I assume you offered to do some work for money to buy a squirt gun, right?" He nodded. "Cory, I told you yesterday that I would lend you one of mine." He looked at me in confusion. "Before you try and argue, yes I did! I told you not to worry about getting a water gun because I was going to let you have one of mine, but you obviously didn't listen because now you're here with a mess you made on your own that you tried to trick your friends into cleaning up! Cory, you're dealing with this problem on our own." I said as I walked away only to run into Shawn who lifted me off the ground.

"You ready for the war, Sunshine?" He grinned as we started walking back to my neighborhood.

"You have no idea!" I replied as we laid in wait. The water war began when Cory came running down the street with a huge water gun. I was so glad that I rigged all the trips I did because we would have been bombed. We were playing for hours, the sky had already started to darken.

Apparently Ellis convinced a bunch of guys to be on his side. Get the girl to cower in fear I suppose but it didn't work. I barely had a splash on me. That is until the car drove past me and I froze. "Mama?" I stepped onto the street towards the car.

"Sunshine?" I heard Shawn say from what feels like miles away. I kept taking more steps towards the car as tears fell down my face.

"Mama? Dad?" I said again as I walked further into the street.

"Ray?" Shawn said again, concern laced his voice.

"They're at the wrong house..." I was stopped in the middle of the road when I tripped in a pothole. My hand was bloody from the sharp rocks that pierced my skin but I kept trying to cross the street.

"RAVEN, THE CAR!" I felt arms pull me from the middle of the street. I began to struggle in his arms as he dragged me into my backward and behind my dad's shed.

"Shawn. Shawn! Put me down, my parents are home! SHAWN, THEY'RE RIGHT OVER THERE! Shawn please!" I tried to wiggle out for his grip but he wouldn't let me go.

"Raven, you're bleeding."

"I'm... what?" I zoned back to reality as Shawn held my hand in front of my face.

"Sunshine, you fell and almost got hit by a car!" He looked so worried and scared it was almost surreal. "What happened? You have glass in your hand and you didn't even notice."

I looked down at my hands in shock. Shawn carefully touched my palm to find the larger shards of glass and take them out. "I think it was a bottle or something." Okay, wait right here, I'm gonna go tell the guys that we're done." He ran off and I must've dozed off because I was suddenly in my house sitting on the toilet as Shawn rummaged through the cabinet for rubbing alcohol.

"Maybe I should get Brianna or Jefferson." He mumbled to himself as he wiped the open cuts on my hand. I wince a couple of times but overall I was fine. "Are you gonna tell me what happened?" He asked softly, but tears started making their way down my face again as if he yelled at me.

"I thought I was doing better. I was actually able to eat and fall asleep and laugh, Shawnie. I thought I was better." He was washing the blood of the tweezers and looked over at me.

I was suddenly hit with an overbearing wave of fatigue. I stood up and stumbled to my room where Shawn stayed seated outside my closed door while I changed into my pajamas. "You're allowed to have days where you're not okay, Raven. The sun doesn't stop shining after a cloudy day." I opened the door in my Black Panther pajamas.

"Did you just use a metaphor?" I asked as I crawled into my bed and Shawn sat down just in front of it. "I'm impressed....You should probably go home. You parents will be worried." He took my wrapped up hand and gave it a soft squeeze before he backed up towards the door.

"Make sure you eat something. I'll call you tomorrow." He smiled.

"Go before Jefferson comes up and banishes you!"

"Bye, Sunshine." He waved before he disappeared.

"Bye, Shawnie!" I said softly to myself before I fell asleep."

(A/N: I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I’M DOING!)

[halstudandruz]

Research Purposes ~ Part 2

*Not my gif*

Pairing: Jay x Reader

Requested: Yes

Prompt: What happens when the only person in the world you didn’t want finding out does?

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: Part one found here (NSFW, 18+)

A/N 2: Also thank you to @enchantedblackrose for the idea 😊

If you are not 18+ and are unable to read part 1 and want to back story just hit me up (:

“We’re so freaking late. There’s no way we’ll have time to stop for my car.” You rushed around Jay’s apartment, pouring coffee for both of you.

“And whose fault is that.” Jay looked at you accusingly.

“I was just trying to help the environment.” You shrugged, handing him his cup after checking the lid.

“You and I both know we wasted more water in there together than we would’ve showering on our own.” He retorted grabbing his badge and gun off the coffee table to secure them to his belt.

“Yeah okay so I wanted shower sex sue me.” You rolled your eyes shrugging your jacket on.

“I wasn’t the one complaining.” He smiled, taking a drink.

“We would’ve had more than enough time if you didn’t insist on cuddling this morning.” You pointed out, remembering how he pulled you back into his chest every time you tried to move out of bed a couple hours prior.

“You like shower sex. I like cuddling.” He teased handing you your purse.

“Maybe we can draft up an alternate schedule.” You joked.

“I do hear compromise is the key to a healthy relationship.” He replied.

“We gotta go if you don’t want to get pulled over for speeding.” You changed the subject reaching for the door knob, before being tugged back by your arm, turning in time for Jay’s lips to meet yours in a sweet, passionate kiss.

“To get us both through the day.” Jay winked reaching around you to open the door and usher you out.

This was the second time that week you and Jay would be showing up to work together. Nobody noticed it the first time, but your anxiety climbed at the thought of someone recognizing and approaching you about it. What would you say? You and Jay were only in it purely for the sex. Right? Regardless of that fact that you had stayed at his house almost every night the past couple weeks even without the promise of sex, or how your stuff was starting to accumulate at his house from the past few months. A few t-shirts mixed in with his, hair straightener resting on his bathroom organizer, makeup scattered about on the dresser. Friends with benefits, that’s all it was. Nothing more and you certainly were not gaining feelings for him. Absolutely not that was against the rules and you were not about to be some stereotypical fuck buddy turned feelings trope, but you were getting sloppy apparently. You agreed to enter through the front while Jay entered through the back. Skipping up the steps you threw a smile at Trudy offering her a good morning, but in return she stared you down, eyebrow raised as she rested against the desk.

“What?” You stopped in your tracks in front of her. But she stayed silent giving you a look, and you just knew she knew. She was Trudy Platt. She knew everything.

“You should tell him.” She whispered to you, and it’s not the first time she had said something of the sort recently.

“Tell who, what?” You continued to fake innocence as you had the times before.

“It’s going to end badly.” She pushed again.

“It already did end badly.” You reminded her before trudging upstairs feeling the heat of her stare still on your back. Everyone except Kim was already there, including Jay who had his feet kicked up on his desk looking through a file. You greeted everyone draping your coat over the back of your chair and falling into it.

The first hour ticked by slowly, and you found your eyes moving across the room to focus on Jay. Opened documents lay across your desk. He looked so relaxed, shoulders loose, breaths slow and even, head resting against his palm as he fought not to fall asleep. You knew he would rather be out chasing suspects, but deep down you were starting to register you were okay with paperwork days. It meant he was safe, and that thought scared you a little. The last time you had those same thoughts you were staring at a different man in the room. A man who sat not too far behind Jay, clicking his pen absentmindedly as he often did when he was bored.

“Ruz, I’ll break the damn pen.” Kevin grumbled, as he had many times before in response to the habit.

“Sorry.” Adam mumbled, setting the utensil onto his desk away from his fidgety hands.

You chuckled at the small exchange, experiencing the exact same one many times in the years you had been detailed in intelligence with the best people you could’ve ever asked to work with. That certainly didn’t mean it wasn’t complicated though, and you were the very obvious example of that. You watched Jay’s head bob catching himself before adjusting in order to keep himself awake. His eyes accidentally met yours, heart rate immediately increasing. He sent you a small smile as his eyes started to roam over your body. Looking for a distraction from the tedious work. You couldn’t scold him. It wasn’t like you hadn’t been doing the same thing the past 10 minutes. Looking at his arms that were tight against his sleeves you wondered if the scratch marks you left on his biceps this morning would still be prevalent, or if the fading hickey from nights prior was still noticeable on his hip bone.

“I need coffee. Anyone else?” You asked trying to divert the obvious eye fucking your were giving each other. Everyone in the room raising their hands. You laughed taking notice of all the tired eyes who so obviously wanted to bash their heads off the desk already bored out of their minds, just waiting for a case to jump off.

“I’ll help.” Jay offered, voice gruff from barely speaking all morning. Together you poured and distributed everyone cups. Sitting back down into your chair when Jay was handing Kev his.

“You gonna shave that thing anytime soon? You usually can’t stand it past a week.” Kevin asked Jay, referring to his beard. They had always teased him whenever he claimed it grew in patchy compared to Adam and Kevin’s and it usually resulted in him having a clean shaven face the next shift. But it had grown in quite nicely this time, and he made sure to keep it presentable by trimming it as needed.

“No, it’s starting to grow on me. I’m keeping it for research anyway. Seems it can enhance far more than just my facial features.” Jay shrugged casually sitting back down atin his chair, and at his words you choked on your coffee spitting it all over your desk. Uncontrollable coughs tickling your throat.

“You good [Y/L/N]?” Hailey asked standing up to help you.

“Yeah..sorry. Just.. went down the wrong pipe. Didn’t expect it to be so.. hot.” You explained between coughs looking across the room to glare at Jay who wore a cocky smirk on his face, flipping through papers not daring to look up at you.

“You forget your ice?” Adam asked, knowing you had put a couple cubes of ice in your coffee every morning cooling it down so you could drink it faster.

“I must’ve. Kinda out of it today.” You shook your head taking napkins out of your drawer to try to clean up the mess you had made on your desk as well as your white shirt.

“I’ll get you some.” He started to walk towards the break room.

“It’s really okay I spit most of it out anyway.” You laughed.

“I’ll just get you a new cup.” He reasoned and you just thanked him not feeling like bickering with him about it. He had been going out of his way to do nice things for you recently. You assumed either so you wouldn’t spill the beans about him and Upton or because he felt bad.

“There’s no way this is coming out..” You grumbled dabbing at the tan stain forming on your shirt, “Do you happen to have a spare?” You asked, turning towards Hailey.

“I’m sorry I don’t. I used my spare the other day after that shooting and haven’t brought another extra.” Hailey apologized. You waved her off thanking her anyway.

“There’s one in my locker.” Jay offered, “You’ll probably just have to tuck it in.” You thought for a moment, it probably wouldn’t look like a big deal. Just a friend helping out a friend.

“Okay. Thanks.” You nodded getting up to head to the locker room where Jay followed. “I know where your locker is.” You rolled your eyes.

“Yes, but you don’t know my combination nor are you very good at opening dial locks. Hence why you have a keypad one on yours.” Jay pointed out, spinning his combination. He was right. You could never open dial locks.

“Do you analyze everything I do?” You crossed your arms annoyed at how well he always seemed to know you.

“You’re an interesting person babe.” He smiled handing you the shirt as he kissed your forehead.

“Watch yourself. You don’t know who’s hiding in here.” You lectured, “this is your fault by the way.”

“I know. Total win-win situation.” Jay laughed, smiling brightly.

“You’re gonna be the death of me Jay Halstead.” You groaned, a small smile on your lips.

“What a way to go though, huh?” He quipped, giving you a quick kiss.

“Get out.” You pushed his chest.

“What? No free peep show? I offered you my shirt and everything.” He acted offended.

“They’re gonna start getting suspicious if we are in here any longer go.” He huffed at your reply giving in and leaving as you turned around to switch shirts. Jay’s scent immediately overwhelmed you as you slipped his shirt on. Causing your body to relax in turn at the familiar fragrance. Jay was right, you had to tuck the shirt into your jeans, otherwise it could’ve been a dress thanks to your large height difference. Turning to walk out of the locker room, you were met with Adam holding a new cup of coffee out to you making you jump at the unexpected body in your path. “Thank you.” You giggled taking it from his hand to take a drink.

“Did you change?” He asked, eyeing the shirt you now wore.

“Oh yeah. I had white on and it was gonna stain so Jay offered me his shirt.” You explained, shifting on your feet at the uncomfortable conversation.

“Well I have one. It might fit you better.” He offered moving to walk towards his locker, but you put a hand to his chest stopping him.

“I’m good this one is perfectly fine.” You reassured him, Adam stared at you, breaking the tense silence with a long sigh, leaning against the side of the lockers.

“Listen we never got to talk about that night you came to my apartment. I just wanted to say I’m really sorry you-“ He began to apologize when Kevin peeked his head in the door.

“Hey, I’m sorry to interrupt..” he looked between the two of you awkwardly, “but we just got a case.” Adam cleared his throat as you nodded,

“We can..finish this later.” You chewed on your lip pushing past him to grab your coat out of Kevin’s hand.

It was nearing 8 o’clock by the time Voight had given you guys permission to go home and get some sleep. Knowing you’d be returning bright and early in the morning to continue to case.

“What do you think about pizza tonight? I’ve been craving some Bartolis.” Jay asked walking down the stairs behind you.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” You stopped turning to face him when you rounded the corner out of sight.

“Well I can just get pizza and I’ll stop for whatever else you want too.” He offered.

“I’m not talking about food, Jay.” You laughed, looking at the ground. Your mind had been racing since showing up with Jay this morning.

“Then..what are you talking about?” He asked, stepping closer towards you.

“I mean I don’t know I’ve been at your place almost every night the last couple weeks.” You whispered, hoping your voice wouldn’t carry to anyone nearby.

“Well we can go to your place. That’s fine.” He reasoned.

“No that’s not..” You sighed not able to find the words.

“Hey, just talk to me. What’s up.” He encouraged hands falling to your hips holding you gently.

“I’m just worried we’re starting to get careless. Showing up to work twice in one week together. One of these days we’re bound to get caught either coming in together or showing up on scene together. We don’t even know what this is. I don’t want to have to talk to Voight about it in the meantime.” You explained.

“We can be more careful. I promise. I just don’t want you to freak out about this.” He assured you tucking your hair behind your ear. “Can we just address how good you look in my shirt. I’m so glad you’re such a klutz..” Jay’s eyes roamed up and down your body.

“I am not a klutz! How did you expect me to react?” You crossed your arms, glaring at him as you did a few hours prior.

“Well is it not the truth? This thing is still on my face purely for your satisfaction.” He reminded you by trailing his lips down your neck, immediately summoning goosebumps from the raggedness tickling in the wake of his lips. He winked knowing his point was proven, moving up to place a soft kiss on your lips. “Sooo pizza?” He asked, pulling back, hopeful look on his face.

“Fine, but I’m not going in to get it.” You rolled your eyes, a bright smile on your face when he wrapped an arm around your shoulders pulling you towards his truck but when you rounded the corner your eyes connected with Adam’s who stood near the door, eyes wide between you two as Jay let his arm fall to his side, your feet rooted to the floor.

“I forgot my wallet in my locker.” Adam explained stammering over his words.

“Well don’t let us keep you. See you tomorrow brother.” Jay remained calm grabbing your arm to pull you out. Patting Adam on the shoulder when you passed.

“Shit!” You cursed when you reached Jay’s truck.

“What?” He questioned and you looked at him dumbfounded.

“You’re fucking kidding me right?” You scoffed.

“He’s not gonna tell Voight. For starters it’s Adam. Plus we know about him and Hailey. He can’t.” He shrugged.

“That’s not what I’m worried about!” You yelled.

“You just said that’s what you were worried about.” Jay reminded you, trying to catch up. “Babe.” He urged when you didn’t answer him.

“You don’t get it Jay!” You shook your head, lump forming in your throat at the anxiety the situation presented.

“No, you’re right I don’t. I’m sorry. Help me understand.” He grabbed a hold of your hand trying to get you to face him.

“Not right now.” You chewed your lip feeling a few tears fall down your cheeks, quickly swiping them away before they were seen, but you knew Jay would know regardless. You were tired, hungry, and now slightly panicking at the thought of having to address the entire situation. His hand squeezed yours tighter before starting his truck putting it in drive.

All Tag List:

@corebore123 @scarletsoldierrr @hehurst23 @beautiful-bunny89 @ingie @halsteadsway @malrunaway @grettiwrites @inlovewith3

Jay Taglist:

@jayxhalsteadx @life-treatments @weepingfestivalmentality @toomuchtv95 @queen-of-arda

[tsukishimas-shortcake]

Zapped

↦ Character(s): Kaminari Denki X reader

↦ Warnings: zapped out denki and caring reader? No proof reading?

↦ Word Count: (including the head canon part) 1.3k ish

↦ Your Momo’s Receipt: This is an entree following this appetizer where I talk about some head canons I have on zapped out Denki, feel free to read it, though they are stand alone writings.

Does zapped out denki look kinda funny? yes

does that mean people should a l w a y s make fun of it? no.

Denki can get kinda insecure about it, especially when he’s around people he doesn’t know that well

obv he is comfortable enough with some people to become zapped out just to make others laugh

sometimes after missions he’ll be zapped out all night because teachers, mentors, etc. make him continue other activities instead of resting like he should

def gets the worst headaches after

rub his head pretty please

also you know how electricity and water don’t go well together? I think while yes his body can function fine normally even though water and electricity don’t mix well, but I think when he uses super high voltages, like when he gets zapped out, he gets super dehydrated and ends up drinking like 2 gallons of water

Like he doesn’t repel water its just his body doesn’t absorb as much as he should so he has to drink a lot more than normal people

Denki def likes being babied, I will take no criticism, I will never prefer Dom!denki compared to sub!denki, even in a non-sexual way, he is a baby and I will treat him as such

Baby him and he’ll get all blushy and cute, no one ever babies him because 1. girls just think he's a perv and can't respect women (which yes I will admit he is a perv but he def is a simp who respects women unlike rat boy who is an incel) 2. why would his friends that are guys baby him

Sometimes kiri will because taking care of your friends is manly or some shit like that but not all the time 

Even though the bakusquad takes care of the simple things that Denki needs while zapped out when you take care of him he feels like he's getting better 3x faster

Mainly because he feels he can relax the most when you’re taking care of him, when its the bakusquad he feels kinda stressed cause he doesn’t wanna do something dumb that will be a running joke for the whole school year or something

Once got caught on Sero’s tape and go wrapped up in it like a mummy, but he used so much of it that it took like 2 hours to get him fully unwrapped. Had a small bald spot in an unnoticeable spot on the back of his head because the tape w o u l d not come off

When you’re with him just hold him. Baby him. Set his head in your lap and just rub his head while he gets better. 

Another boring day had passed during your internship, thank god it was boring. No hero wants an interesting day seeing as to how that would mean a disaster had occurred or some evil bastard had committed a crime. Today it was all making sure kids weren’t running into the street or stopping creepy men from hitting on school girls, the most mundane common occurrences in your region of work.

You got to the dorms a little after some of the other students, you couldn’t tell who but you saw the living room in disarray and decided the first thing would be a shower and checking who was back was second. 

As you were showering, there was a loud bang on the door causing you to jump, what were these people trying to pull? you had jumped straight into fighting stance since you’re always ready for some crazy bitch to pull some psycho scene while you shower. 

“Y/N! Are you in there?” You heard one of the other students say, not sure who it was exactly because of the door between the two of you but knowing it was one of the girls because of the octave they spoke in. “Yeah, what’s up?” you said as you shut off the water, grabbing your towel and beginning to dry off, figuring that maybe you are in there too long. 

“Well... you see... Kaminari is kinda zapped out again and he won’t sit down for some reason. He just keeps walking around and we can’t get him to talk either. We think maybe he’s looking for you.” They said. “Okay, I’ll be right out. Just let me dry off and stuff” you replied, they said thank you quickly and almost more of a ‘thank you god’ than a ‘thank you Y/N’.

You came out of the shower and dried off your hair as much as you could with the towel, before heading down to the living room were the bakusquad had almost created what seemed like a circle around him to keep him from getting around. 

He made a sound similar to babbling when you finally came into sight and he just  had a pout on his lips as you got closer. The bakusquad all let out sighs of relief as you finally got to them and reached your hand out to Denki. Once he took your hand you put another hand on his shoulder and began to lead him to his room, hoping to help him get changed out of his internship clothes and clean the dirt off his face. Once you got to his door you took his spare key from your pocket and unlocked the door, helping him in since the last time you let go of his hand for him to walk in himself he walked straight into his dresser. 

Once you got him inside you helped him strip down, picking out some clean clothes for him. After he got dressed you took a damp rag and had him lay on the bed. Sitting down with his head in your lap. He just smiled up at you, almost like he was dumbstruck by love, his eyes big and he just laughed as you pushed the hair away from his forehead. Wiping it with the wet rag he sighed in comfort before you continued, attempting to be gentle instead of turning it into some type of facial exfoliation. 

“Are you okay baby?” You asked as you set the rag to the side and just ran your hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face. He hummed in reply, the best he could manage at the time but it was a good hum. “Good.” You said softly “You feel like drinking some water?” you asked again, this time him making a hum that was not such a good hum but not one of the completely horrible grunts. You sighed, time to pull some ‘gotta get my sick child to take medicine’ type stuff. “Well, would you mind sitting up and taking a few sips...” his eyes almost looked too sad to deny, knowing he really didn’t want to “please... for me?” you asked and he sighed before humming in the tone that means ‘oh okay, for you’. 

He leaned up with your help and you rubbed his back as you grabbed the water for him. He ended up drinking the entire glass and once you set it down he was leaning against your shoulder, tiredly, hardly able to hold himself up anymore as the tiredness and soreness finally hit him. 

“Good job baby” You said and wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him closer as he wrapped both arms around you. “Let’s lay down now okay?” you said softly and he nodded against your shoulder. Once you laid down he smiled tiredly at you and then his blinks began to get more spaced out. 

“I love you. I’ll be right here if you need me okay?” You said softly, knowing his head must be hurting by now. 

“...love...you too...” He finally managed to speak before you kissed his forehead. Falling asleep before you pulled your lips away.

[bnhababyyyy]

Todoroki as a dad hc

Warnings: none just fluff

A/n: this has been in my drafts for a year...

• He would def spoil his kids don’t @ me, like I imagine him having a girl and boy who look like a mixture of both of you and he can’t say no to someone with your face.

• His kids know his weakness too, those little devils would say, “Dad can I please get this game? Please Dad please?” Knowing very well that he can’t help but give in. (Especially when they use the puppy eyes)

• When they come home they like to act all innocent in front of you, hiding their toy bags behind them as you give everyone kisses, “Aw, look at you two bringing in the groceries for your papa. Let me see what you got.”

• But before they could stop you from looking you already saw the overwhelming amount of toys filling their bags.

• Your mouth dropped as the kids giggled and your husband came in with the actual groceries.

• “I told the both of you to stop tricking your dad into buying you things!” You sighed tapping your hip, “You two are helping me with dinner now.”

• Your son giggled, “That’s not a punishment!”

• Your daughter nodded, “Yeah! It’s not!”

• “Ah I see...Then would tickling be a better one?” You attacked their sides before they could run away. The both of them wiggling around your hands and squealing in laughter as you wiggled your fingers on their sides.

• Todoroki always stares at u guys with the softest smile. He likes watching you take care of the kids, something about it calmed him, you were so gentle and fun with them it made him love you even more.

• When the kids run upstairs to change for dinner he places his hand around your waist and gives u lots of kisses. He’s so gentle, he literally holds one of ur hands as he talks about how pretty u are or how happy he is that u take care of the kids. Plz... this is too domestic...

• He loves how happy you make him, he stares adoringly in your eyes as you stare back at him.

• “You need to stop letting them punk you, they’re gonna get spoiled.” You poked his chest and he smiled.

• He cups his hands around your face, stroking your cheek before kissing you again. And again... and again....

• All until your daughter came down and smacked his leg, “Ew Dad stop it!”

• “Yeah Dad stop kissing Mom.” Your son came in, squeezing himself between you two.

• You roll your eyes before entertaining the kids. Poor Todoroki 💔 he’s gonna have to wait to hang out with you

• (Ok but like he spoils you a lot too...) He kinda just...buys anything you so much as look at like Shouto plz...

• Your wedding ring? He replaces it with a newer, shinier one every once in a while. You have about three now.

• You try to tell him you’re fine with the last few rings you have but he just can’t help but want to slide a new ring on your finger.

• It felt like he was marrying you all over again and he loved it.

• I imagine the two of you just talking on the couch about whatever was important until your kids came in with an “urgent” question.

• “Dad! Dad! Dad hey dad!” Your son waved his hand in his face until Todoroki noticed him, “I was wondering, when—when the tv goes off where do the people go?”

• He huffed out a smile, “They go back home.”

• “Ok but how do they know how to go on the tv every single day!” Your daughter asked.

• You giggled, playing along, “It’s a job, they’re going to their work.”

• “Then how come I saw them sleeping? Sleeping isn’t a job.” she scrunched her nose up as you laughed.

• These conversations with the kids always lasted way too long, which usually led to you two forgetting about the important stuff you were supposed to deal with that day. (Cue the both of you waking up at 3am scrambling to finish paperwork or something💀)

• Todoroki doesn’t mind though, he loves these moments, it was so entertaining seeing you all interact.

• He loves getting them ready for bed too, brushing his teeth with them and washing his face with them was so fun for no reason at all.

• Your kids were competitive, always a competition on who could brush their teeth the longest, who could wash their face the fastest, and who could run to the bed the quickest.

• “Dad you wanna see how fast I can run? Look, I can go faster than everyone in the whole wide world.” Your son poked, while your daughter shook her head.

• “No! I can go faster! Dad can you please uhm, put on the—the clock thing to see who can run faster.”

• He nodded, already putting on the stopwatch, smiling at how they would run and wiggle onto the bed.

• The times came to a tie and he laughed when they continued to banter with each other saying “The clock was wrong!”

• It reminded him of you two in HighSchool, always having a competition on who could do what better. He didn’t care about winning back then really, he more so enjoyed seeing how excited you got when you won. Your kids have the same expressions as you too, so it was all just squeezing this poor man’s heart!

• He randomly pulls the both of them in for a big hug with lots of kisses as they scream and giggle in his hold.

• He sits at the corner of their bed after tucking them in and listens to their re•tellings of the day. It was so interesting, teaching them new things and how they learned so fast. He felt proud of them for being so smart and easy to take care of.

• When the kids would finally fall asleep he would kiss their heads, before coming back to your room.

• You usually start watching a show or reading a book by the time he comes in.

• He dropped his head onto your shoulder and waited for you to scratch his head or pet him.

• “How were they?”

• He kissed your shoulder before humming, “They talked about their shows before sleeping.”

• You sighed, “I don’t know how you sit through it for so long, my patience isn’t as high as yours.”

• You kissed his forehead and he’d smile into your neck, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in for a kiss.

• “I love you.”

• You hummed, kissing him back before he laid down, “I love you too”

[leia505]

The Sunrise and Your Sins | Chapter 2 (NSFW)

!!!! Link to Chapter 1 !!!!

AAAHHH thank you to everyone who read my first chapter!!! I’m sorry for the super long delay on chapter 2, I’ve been recovering from a car accident so this fanfic kind of lost it’s priority bc I’ve been in pain lol. But I’m feeling better now so new chapters should be coming out faster! 

From this chapter forward, there will be explicit sexual content meant for audiences 18+ so minors please do not engage! or engage and just don’t tell me idk 

All links to car visuals and playlists and art and tags and all that jazz can be found in chapter 1 :) 

Word Count: 14k

New Tags: consensual sex, oral sex(giving and receiving), brat and dom, choking, breeding kink, face sitting 

‘You free this weekend?’ you read the text off of your phone. You groggily glance at the time, which read 3:33 AM. 

‘Depends.’ you respond back to Kuroo.  Two and a half weeks had passed since the last job he worked, meaning it had been two and half weeks since you had seen him and discussed your suspicions about your father. 

‘Friend of mine is throwing a party. Karasuno Killers are gonna be there.’ Kuroo replies. Your pulse quickens, remembering the conversation you and Kuroo had about your brother and his racing team. 

‘I’ll be there.’ you pause before hitting send, questioning if the action you were tempted to make was a good idea. ‘Are you free rn?’ you type, pressing send and locking your phone, setting it down next to you as you stared up at the ceiling. Your heart raced at even the thought of Kuroo, of the idea of being in his presence alone again.

Your phone lit up seconds later. ‘Be there in 15.’ You can feel yourself blushing, and you can’t stop the grin that spread across your face. 

You practically jump out of bed, changing into something casual. A flash of red catches your eye, and you grab Kuroo’s jacket, draping it over your shoulders. You sit back down in bed, impatiently waiting for Kuroo to text you. 

After what felt like an eternity, you finally got a text from him. ‘Here princess.’ You smirk at the use of the nickname, you were starting to get used to hearing him call you princess, and you couldn’t deny the fact that you liked it. 

Moving quietly through the house, you quickly peer over to your father’s office to see if the lights were on. Long work nights were common with him, the only downside being that the computer with access to the security cameras was in that office. Lucky for you, he seemed to be asleep upstairs, so that was one less thing to worry about. 

“Hey there.” Kuroo’s deep voice practically echoed through the quiet night, and you quickly shush him as you lock the front door. He laughs, holding the car door open for you. He shuts it behind you and goes around to his side, climbing in and starting the car. 

“So, where to?” He asks, turning to you, his elbow resting against the center console, a huge grin spread across his face. 

“Anywhere.” You say, anxious to get away from your house, away from your father. It gave you chills thinking about your brother and the connections that were beginning to form, with your father only a few feet away at times. You tried your hardest to act as normal as possible around him, but you knew that eventually he would catch on to your sudden change in behavior. 

“Are you hungry?” Kuroo asks, pulling out his phone and unlocking it. You take a peek at his lock screen, and see a photo of a black cat staring back at you. 

You shrug. “I could eat.” You say, causing Kuroo to chuckle. 

“I know the perfect place.” He says, calling someone. “Hey Haiba, you guys still open?” He pauses as the person named Haiba responds. “Perfect. I’ll be there in 20. Save a table for two.” He pauses yet again. “No you ass, not for Kenma. I’m bringing a girl.” He says, hanging up the phone. 

You laugh at the interaction between them, looking over at Kuroo as he pulls out of the driveway and through the neighborhood. Kuroo glances over at you, smirking when he realizes you were already looking. You quickly look away, staring ahead intensely. 

“You look cute in my jacket.” He says. 

“Does that mean I get to keep it?” You ask playfully, smiling sweetly at him. He laughs, a big grin on his face. 

“I’ll tell you what. You can keep it, but I will need to borrow it from time to time for races. Fair?” He says, holding a hand out for you to shake as he keeps the other on the wheel. 

“Sounds good to me.” You say, grabbing his hand and shaking it. Your fingers graze over the callouses and scars on his knuckles, and you turn his hand over to examine them. 

“Just some work related injuries.” He jokes, squeezing your hand.

“These are from working for my dad?” You ask, your voice quiet, almost out of shame. 

“Yeah.” He responds. You couldn’t hide the painful expression on your face and Kuroo quickly took notice of it. “Nothing to worry about though, princess. I’m tougher than I look, I promise.” He says, winking. Kuroo brings your hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss, making your heart skip a beat and your cheeks glow red. 

He lets go of your hand to switch gears as you enter the city. There are no shops that appear to be open and no one on the street. Kuroo slows down, pulling into a parking lot. 

“It doesn’t look like anything’s open.” You state as Kuroo gets out of the car. 

“Looks can be deceiving.” He says, shutting his car door. You let yourself out, closing the door behind you and turning towards him. He takes your hand and leads you to a small shop with a sign that reads “Haiba Ramen”. From the outside it had looked as though it was closed, but as soon as Kuroo swung the door open, you realized it was anything but.  

There were plenty of people in there, almost all of them wearing racing jackets of different colors, the style similar to Kuroo’s. The smell of ramen was strong and welcoming, your hunger growing as you entered the shop. 

“DK!” You hear someone call out. The patrons of the ramen shop all turn their heads to look at the both of you, and you were met by a chorus of greetings. 

“Someone’s popular.” You quietly comment to him as he leads you to a table away from the crowds. 

“Haiba’s part of Nekoma Crew, part time mechanic, part time ramen shop owner. He’s better at cooking than fixing cars though.” Kuroo motions towards the other patrons in the shop. “These are all racers. The store is closed to the public at 10, but stays open for friends and racers until 5. Me and the team usually have our meetings and get togethers here.” 

“Well who else would let you fuckers in this late at night?” A tall guy with silver hair says, placing two waters on the table. Kuroo gets up to greet him. 

“We’re eternally grateful Lev.” Kuroo jokes, giving Lev a half hug. Lev rolls his eyes as Kuroo sits back down.

“Hi.” You say shyly, giving a small wave to Lev, who smiled down at you. 

“You must be…(y/n).” Lev says holding a hand out for you to shake. 

You scrunch your eyebrows together, shaking his hand. “Uh, how do you know my name?” You ask skeptically, curious as to how he already knew you. 

“DK won’t stop talking about you at the shop. Sometimes it’s like he can’t shut up about you.” Lev smirks, looking over at Kuroo. You look at Kuroo with a face of fake shock, grinning from ear to ear. You see his ears growing red as he avoids your gaze. 

“Your tip is rapidly decreasing the longer this conversation goes on for.” Kuroo says, making you laugh. Lev scoffs, mockingly putting his hands up. 

“Alright, alright. I wouldn’t want to third wheel on your date any longer anyways. Now, what would you two love birds like to eat?” 

Kuroo sighs, putting his face in his hands in distress. The entire exchange made you laugh, getting to see Kuroo as a normal guy instead of a mob henchman was refreshing. Friends, not colleagues. Race cars, not drugs. Not to mention, it gives you butterflies thinking about the fact he talks about you to his crew. 

“Surprise me.” You say, catching Lev’s attention. “Make me whatever you think I’d like. Or whatever you feel like making. I promise I’ll eat anything.” Lev grins brightly, turning towards Kuroo. 

“I like her. Don’t screw this up!” Lev calls out to Kuroo as he walks away to the kitchen to start on whatever it was he would choose to serve you. 

“So you talk about me, huh?” You say, smirking at Kuroo. 

“Maybe.” He says, cheekily grinning at you. “You don’t talk about me to your friends?” 

“I...don’t have friends.” You say, shrugging. “In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t really leave the house much.” 

“You don’t have any friends?” Kuroo asks, a puzzled expression on his face. 

“Nope.” You say, taking a sip of your water. “I mean, I had friends in high school. But I sort of drifted away from them after graduation and after my brother died.” 

Kuroo nods, knowing that your brother’s death was a touchy topic. “Well, you have to have someone to talk to. Someone you consider a friend.” He says, diverting the conversation away from the dark and depressing stuff. 

You thought to yourself for a second, trying to think of a person you found yourself spending time with and talking to, or even someone that you enjoy being around. “You.” You answer, smiling at Kuroo. “You’re kinda the only person I ever talk to.” 

Kuroo smiles back at you, letting out a small chuckle. “I’m honored, princess.” Kuroo takes your hand in his, planting another gentle kiss on the top of your hand, making you blush. 

“Are you usually up this late?” You ask, getting curious about Kuroo and his life away from you and your family. 

He shrugs, rubbing small circles along your knuckles. “Some nights, if I have a job or if I’m working on something with Kenma. Tonight I just happened to get a text from a friend about the party this weekend, I thought it’d be a good way for you to get in contact with Karasuno.”

“Who’s party is it?” 

“A good friend of mine, Kotarou Bokuto. He’s the leader of Fukurodani Squad, his racing name is Blackjack.” Kuroo answers. 

“Is he…” You pause, wondering the best way to ask if Bokuto’s a criminal. 

“No.” Kuroo says before you can finish your sentence. “He’s just a racer. Him and his crew are pretty well known internationally, so all his income comes from his shop. He’s...just a really good guy. Not a bad bone in his body.” 

“Oh, so you do have normal friends.” You say sarcastically. 

“Well, Fukurodani and Karasuno are the normal teams. They don’t do the shady stuff. Seijoh Brawlers and Nekoma Crew are pretty similar, since only me and Oikawa do the jobs. Kenma gets involved every once and awhile, but it's rare. Inarizaki though, they’re literally all drug dealers. Drug dealers who happen to also be racers.” Kuroo explains. 

“That would explain why Kita doesn’t have a fancy jacket.” You say, remembering the plain black hoodie he wore the last time you saw him. “So it’s just you, Oikawa, and Kita doing the shady stuff?” 

“Yeah, mainly just us. I promise not all racers are big bad guys.” Kuroo jokes to you. 

“You’re not a bad guy.” You say, squeezing his hand gently. “You’re just...someone who works for a bad guy. Bad guy adjacent.” You smile at him, knowing that one of the things that held Kuroo back from pursuing anything with you was the fact he saw himself as the villain. The truth was, maybe the both of you were just bad guy adjacent — not necessarily the villains, but stuck being attached to the bad. 

Kuroo gives you a sad smile, squeezing your hand back. “I guess that’s better than being the evil genius.” You knew exactly who he was talking about, who the evil genius was in this morbid epic that is your life. The mastermind, the puppeteer, the dark hand behind the curtain. Your father. It was a hard pill to swallow, but it was one that you had to, which you and Kuroo both knew. An unspoken acknowledgement of the fact that sooner or later, you would have to face your demons — that regardless of what, or who, they are — Kuroo would be right there beside you. 

Your moment with Kuroo was interrupted by Lev, walking out of the kitchen carrying a plate and a bowl. “Bon appetit love birds.” He says, placing a bowl of ramen in front of Kuroo and a plate of chicken wings in front of you. 

“Thanks Lev. Put it on the shop’s tab.” Kuroo says, digging into his ramen. 

“Thanks Lev.” You say, smiling and picking up a chicken wing. It was still steaming, hot and fresh from the fryer. 

“I hope you two enjoy. DK, you gonna be at Blackjack’s party this Saturday?” Lev asks, turning towards Kuroo. 

“Yeah, we’ll be there. Do you know who the party’s for?” Kuroo asks, picking up a soft boiled egg from his ramen and eating it. 

Lev shrugs, throwing a kitchen towel over his shoulder. “No clue. That guy just throws parties for the hell of it. I’ll see you both there!” He says, walking back towards the kitchen. 

You take a bite of the chicken wing, and you instantly understand why Kuroo said he was a great cook. “Holy shit.” You say, looking over at Kuroo. 

Kuroo peers over at you with a mouth full of noodles. “I know.” He says, mouth stuffed to the brim. He finishes chewing and wipes his mouth with a napkin. “A guy on my crew named Yamamoto always gets them. Same with Bokuto.” 

“It seems like you know everyone in Tokyo.” You say, digging into your big plate of wings. Lev also left you a small bowl of rice as well as a cup of miso soup, which you also began digging into. 

Kuroo laughs, picking up more noodles from his bowl. “If they race, I know them.” 

“It also seems like everyone knows you.” You say, thinking back to when you first entered the shop, and all the greetings Kuroo was met with. 

“Well, everyone kinda does. Y’know a title like Drift King isn’t just given to anyone.” He says, smirking at you. You roll your eyes at his arrogance. 

“How lucky am I to be sharing a meal with the great Drift King.” You say jokingly. Kuroo places his chopsticks down, looking across the table at you. 

“Is this not a date?” He asks seriously, eyebrows furrowed. You practically choke on your chicken, which you place down on the table. After wiping your hands on a napkin, you look at Kuroo, who was still staring at you intensely. 

“Was it supposed to be?” You ask shyly, unsure if the miscommunication was on your end or his. 

“Well, I kind of assumed, you asked if I was free. Now we’re eating a meal together. You never really fight it when people talk to us like a couple.” Kuroo says, fidgeting with his spoon that laid in the broth of his ramen. 

You pause for a second, thinking over what he just said. You avert his gaze, staring into your miso soup which had begun to settle and separate. “Did you...want this to be a date?” You ask, looking up at him skeptically. 

“I definitely wouldn’t be opposed to it being a date.” He answers carefully, but with a tone of confidence. “But, if you don’t want it to be, that’s fine.” He says quickly, trying to avoid a bad mood shift between the two of you. 

You pondered again over what he said, and what it would mean for the two of you. Is a relationship the right thing to get into with everything going on? Would it even be appropriate for the two of you to be together? 

“This is a date.” You say, your heart pounding away anxiously as you look into Kuroo’s hypnotizing hazel eyes. He grins proudly at you, all feelings of anxiety going away as soon as you confirmed that this was, in fact, a date. “But, it is just a date. It doesn’t mean anything...specific.” 

He shrugs, picking his chopsticks up to continue eating. “That’s fair. No worries, princess. I’m in no rush here.” 

You smile to yourself, content with the conclusion that you and Kuroo came to. “Thanks. I just don’t think I’m ready for anything serious right now. With everything going on with my dad.” You say, knowing that this was something Kuroo already knew. 

“Yeah, I get it. Bigger fish to fry right now. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.” He says, winking at you. 

The two of you had continued to eat in silence, occupied with the delicious food in front of you. At one point, Kuroo had placed a small bundle of noodles into a spoon of broth, holding it out for you. 

“Aw, for me?” You say, leaning over to take the bite. The ramen was perfect, apparently everything Lev made was incredible. 

“What kind of guy doesn’t share his food with his beautiful date?” He says, making you smile. 

“I guess that means you deserve a chicken wing.” You say playfully, placing a wing in the empty bowl that once held your miso soup. “You should feel special, I really don’t share my food.” 

The two of you had finished your meals in silence, simply enjoying one another’s company. It feels as though this small outing was a break from the reality you both dread — rather than playing detective or operating within a gang, you were just a couple out on a date. 

“We better come back here one of these days.” You say, stacking your empty dishes up. You and Kuroo had finished everything, full and happy, now starting to get sleepy. The other racers in the shop had already left, and you could hear Lev cleaning in the kitchen. 

“Fine by me. As long as you still consider it a date.” Kuroo says, getting up from his seat and stretching. You get up as well, and Kuroo holds out a hand for you to take, which you do. Walking alongside him with his hand in yours, you grab onto his arm with your other hand, feeling especially affectionate towards him. 

“See you later Haiba!” Kuroo calls out as the two of you exit the shop, the cool night air breezing past your face, waking you up. 

You let go of Kuroo’s hand to open up your car door, and Kuroo walks around to his side and climbs in. As he turns on the car, the clock reads 5:05 AM. 

“It’s pretty late.” You comment, realizing how tired you had gotten. You lay your head against the car seat, turning your head to look at Kuroo. 

“Yeah, I know. Do you wanna go home now?” He asks, turning towards you to see your drooping eyelids. 

“Hmmm… not just yet. How about you drop me off when the sun comes up?” You ask sleepily. 

“Whatever you want princess.” Kuroo says quietly, starting the car. You rest your eyes as Kuroo begins driving off, feeling content as you drift off to the sound of Kuroo switching gears. You never thought that you’d ever be comfortable enough to fall asleep in someone’s car, given how paranoid your brother’s death had made you. But with Kuroo, you were just so at home, so trusting of him. You almost couldn’t believe that before your first job with Kuroo,  you just saw him as the hot guy who worked for your dad. 

Before you knew it, you were being gently awoken by Kuroo, the sun beginning to peak over the horizon. You didn’t recognize your surroundings, but you weren’t at all worried. There was never anything to worry about if Kuroo was with you. 

“Where are we?” You ask, looking around. It appeared as though Kuroo took you to a park, a bit away from the city. 

“We had some time to kill, I figured you’d want to see the sunrise.” He says, unbuckling his seat belt and turning to look out to the horizon. You do the same, sitting up in your seat and rubbing the sleep from your eyes. 

After a few moments, you recognize the park Kuroo took you to. “When I was younger, my mom would take me and my brother here.” You say, memories coming back to you. You thought it was strange, how everything seemed to be leading back to your brother lately. It almost felt like a sign. 

“I used to come here a lot too, with Kenma. Maybe we ran into each other once.” Kuroo says, leaning against the armrest. You gently lay your head against his shoulder, wrapping both of your arms around his. 

“What a coincidence that we ended up here.” You say softly, relishing the moment between the two of you. The sun’s rays were barely peeking over the horizon, giving the sky an orange glow. There was a decent amount of overcast, so it gave the sun a softness to it. It was as though the sky was still drowsy, unprepared to make its first appearance for the day. 

“No place I’d rather be.” Kuroo says, barely louder than a whisper. He tenderly places a kiss on the top of your head, staying there for a second longer than expected. 

You slowly move your head up to look at him, your faces closer than they have ever been before. At this distance, you could really study the features on his beautiful face, the dark bags under his eyes from one too many late nights, the small scar on his cheek that was most likely from a job gone wrong, his dark lashes that framed the striking hazel eyes that now stared directly into your own. 

You thought about all the other people that had stared into the same set of eyes you were now gazing into — all the women who knew him intimately, the friends who saw the good in him, the enemies who saw the evil, those whose last moments were spent looking down the barrel of a gun into these hazel eyes. To them, it probably felt like staring into the gates of hell, but for you, it felt like home. Kuroo felt like home. 

His lips slowly graze against yours, almost tentative, trying to read the situation as it happens in real time. A simple ask, a gentle whisper of a question against your lips, inquiring if this was okay. 

In a surge of confidence, your lips crash against his, urgency in your kiss, borderline desperation. Had you been pining for Kuroo all this time? More importantly, was he? 

His hand gently made its way up to your face, as yours snaked behind his neck, pulling him closer. His other hand moved underneath his jacket that you wore, wrapping around your waist. You felt the calluses on his fingertips, rough against the smooth skin of your lower back. 

The sun began beaming into the car, bringing the both of you into the light. It felt euphoric, being bathed in morning sun as you kissed Kuroo. Your heart raced in excitement as you felt Kuroo smile against your lips, and you gently sigh as he pulls away to look into your eyes. 

He grins at you, his eyes studying every detail of your face. You smile back at him, feeling pure bliss. 

“You kinda taste like chicken wings.” Kuroo says, chuckling softly. He gently runs his thumb against your cheek, admiring your face. 

You close your eyes, shaking your head at his stupid comment. You laugh, realizing that the goofiness, the silly jokes and banter that you and Kuroo share is the reason why there were never any doubts in your mind with him. Kuroo could make you laugh despite all the darkness in your life, and that is what made you feel the way you felt. Maybe it was love, but maybe it was too soon to tell. Maybe being the girl in the passenger seat was enough for you at this time. 

“Well you taste like ramen.” You say, your voice hoarse. 

“What a pair we make.” Kuroo says, placing one last tender kiss on your lips. 

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“Sweetheart, come here for a moment.” You hear your father call out to you from the hallway. You let yourself into his office, and find Kuroo sitting in the chair in front of his desk. 

“What’s going on?” You ask tentatively, sitting next to Kuroo. 

“Your dad has some questions. About us.” Kuroo says. 

“Us?” You question, looking at Kuroo. He wore a poker face perfectly, staring directly at your father with an unwavering gaze. 

“I know you two are getting close. And (y/n), sweetheart, you know I trust you. And Tetsurou, you have earned my trust over the years with your loyalty to this family. I just need to know what exactly is happening with you two.” Your father says. 

“We’re friends.” You say quickly, crossing your arms defensively. 

“Friends?” Kuroo asks, breaking his cool demeanor to look over at you. Your father raises an eyebrow, looking between you and Kuroo curiously as you try to figure out what this relationship is. 

“Maybe more than friends. Someday. Not right this moment. But a strong maybe.” You answer shortly, fumbling over your words. 

“I see.” Your father sees, nodding his head. “Are you two...being safe?” 

“Dad!” You say, embarrassed by this interrogation. 

“Yes, sir. Well, there hasn’t been anything that requires...safety, but when it does — IF! If it does, we will be safe. You have my word.” Kuroo says. You could hear his nerves getting the best of him, and you couldn’t help but find it entertaining how scared he sounds as he practically word vomits to your father. 

“Good.” Your father says shortly, awkwardly adjusting in his seat. “Now, for business...I don’t know if I’m okay with (y/n) being seen with you.” 

“What?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. 

“Our family is a moving target for a lot of people, especially the Nohebi Clan. I don’t know if it’s the best idea for the two of you to be going out in public.” 

“I understand, sir.” Kuroo says, in his eyes you could see his disappointment. 

“Dad, that’s ridiculous.” You say, getting fed up with the passivity of the conversation. “I’m going to be leading the Sakanoshita family one day. I’m a target no matter what. But no one will take me seriously when I do take over if I’m locked away all the time. People need to know me. They need to know who’s going to be the next King of Tokyo.” 

“But you just had your first job. You’re jumping into this too quickly.” Your father argues. 

“Keishin had years of training. I’m playing a game of catch up here, and I think the more experience I have, the better. I can’t run an empire from the confines of this house, dad.” Again, playing the dead brother card. It’s a tricky one to play, but it always works. 

Your father sighs, folding his hands in front of him. “You sure know how to argue.” 

“I learned from the best.” You say, smirking. 

“I’ll make a deal with you.” Your father turns toward Kuroo. “You’re getting a promotion. You’re now (y/n)’s bodyguard. She goes somewhere, you follow. If she wants to go somewhere that is potentially dangerous, don’t allow it. And you.” He turns back towards you once more. “You don’t go anywhere without him. You can go out, be social, earn your place here as a Sakanoshita. Let people learn who’s the next King of Tokyo.” 

You grin, knowing that you would be able to reach an agreement with your father. “Sounds like a deal. Kuroo and I will be going to a party this Saturday.” 

As you proudly saunter out of your father’s office, he calls out a question. “What party?” 

“Racer party. Gotta make sure everyone knows the new Sakanoshita boss.” You call out, walking out the door and down the hallway, leaving Kuroo and your father to their business meeting. 

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You could hear the party before you could see it, the music blasting so loud it could be heard from down the street. Even this far from the house, there were already cars parked along the side, all shiny and suped up like Kuroo’s. A lot of time had passed since your last real social outing, but you were at ease knowing Kuroo would be there with you. 

“Just a fair warning, Bokuto is...very loud.” Kuroo says, slowly driving past all the cars and making his way to the driveway of the house. The house was very modern, with a long driveway leading up to a white home with a balcony in the front, huge windows letting you peek in to see all the people inside. The music continued to grow louder and louder as you drew closer to the house, and the cars got nicer as well. Apparently only the people with fancy cars got the good parking spots. 

“How loud are we talking?” You ask Kuroo as he puts the car in park and turns the engine off. 

“Like...imagine the exact polar opposite of Kenma. Then make it louder. That’s Bokuto.” Kuroo explains as he gets out of the car. You do the same, walking over to his side and grabbing his hand. The two of you walk up the stairs to the door, and Kuroo swings it open without knocking. And just like that, you were officially at your first street racer party. 

“Hey, it’s DK!” You hear someone shout distantly, followed by a chorus of greetings. It was just like the ramen shop, everyone being so quick to greet Kuroo. 

“Hey everyone.” Kuroo says loudly, greeting everyone at once. He pulls your hand so you’re standing in front of him, leading the way into the party. Everyone gawks at you as Kuroo places a hand on your waist, coaxing you to walk further into the house. 

“Does everyone know you? Should I start getting used to that sort of greeting?” You ask, maneuvering your way through the crowd. 

Kuroo laughs, giving your belt loop a tug and pulling you into him, your back crashing into his strong chest. “Eventually people will start saying DK and (y/n).” He says into your ear, kissing you on the cheek. You smirk at his comment, a part of you enjoyed the attention everyone was giving you as Kuroo held you against his body. He really knew every way to feed into your ego, and you really did love it. 

“HEY HEY HEY! IS THAT MY BOY DK?!” you hear a loud, chaotic voice say from the kitchen. You and Kuroo turn your heads to find the source, and you see a tall, muscular guy with spiky grey hair grinning at the both of you. You notice the grey bomber jacket he wore, meaning that he was a racer like Kuroo and Oikawa. His appearance was a bit intimidating, and his features were almost...owl-like. 

“BOKUTO!” Kuroo yells, letting go of your hand to greet the host of the party. The two tall, well built men embrace in a hug, clapping each other on the back. You stand there, smiling at this new side of Kuroo. You understood what he meant by Bokuto making him feel more normal. 

“Good to see you dude! Hey, Lev mentioned you were bringing a girl! Where is she?!” Bokuto asks excitedly, looking around to try and spot you. 

“Right here.” You answer, moving to stand next to Kuroo. “I’m (y/n). And I’m assuming you’re the infamous Bokuto?” 

Bokuto laughs, throwing his head back. “Infamous, eh? That must mean DK’s been talking about me.” 

“I figured I should warn her on what she’d be walking into.” Kuroo says slyly, wrapping an arm around you. You found it endearing how affectionate Kuroo acts with you, making sure to keep you close. 

“Glad I didn’t scare ya away.” Bokuto jokes, grinning at you. “Well, DK here is like a brother to me, so by extension that makes you family. Both of you just make yourselves right at home, drink whatever you want and let me know if you need anything. Mi casa es su casa, as Cypher would say. Well, he probably wouldn’t say that, but it’s definitely Spanish.” 

You laugh, smiling up at Bokuto. Kuroo was right, he really is just a genuinely nice guy. Bokuto was a refreshing change from the usual dark and scary stuff  that you and Kuroo dealt with. 

“Say, speaking of Cypher, where is the punk?” Kuroo asks, looking around. 

“Upstairs with the rest of the Brawlers. Your guys are out back. Say, you guys want anything to drink?” Bokuto asks, turning to the counter full of liquor. 

“None for me. Gotta make sure someone gets home safe.” Kuroo says, squeezing your shoulder. 

“Well look at you being all chivalrous!” Bokuto says, playfully punching Kuroo’s arm. “Anything for you, (y/n)?”  

“Sure, I’ll drink whatever.” You say, unsure of what to ask for. High school parties were one thing, but what the hell are you supposed to drink at a street racer’s party? 

“One mystery drink coming right up.” Bokuto says, turning around. “Akaashi!” 

A handsome guy with short dark brown hair turns at the sound of his name. “Can you make a drink for (y/n) pretty please?” Bokuto asks, grinning at him. Akaashi nods, putting his cup down and picking up an empty one for you. He pours some random bottles of liquor and some more random juices into a cup, handing it to you. 

“Thanks.” You say, taking the cup. You take a sip, and to your surprise, it wasn’t disgusting. 

“Akaashi’s kinda the drink expert. And car expert. He’s kinda good at everything.” Bokuto says, noticing your look of amazement. Akaashi rolls his eyes behind him, but you notice his ears flushing red at Bokuto’s compliment. “I’m gonna go be a good host and do my host thing, but I’ll find you two later!” Bokuto turns away from the both of you, walking towards the crowd of people outside. 

“Oh and DK!” Bokuto calls out loudly, making plenty of people turn towards Kuroo. “I’m glad to see you’re finally off the market! No more bachelor’s life for you!” 

“Bachelor’s life?” You question, looking up at him skeptically. Prying eyes peered over at the two of you, no doubt trying to sneak a peek at the great DK and the girl that took him off the market.

“Don’t worry about it.” He answers, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding eye contact. Of course he was a lady’s man before you, just look at him. But just how many girls were in your place before you got there? 

Kuroo takes your hand, leading you upstairs to where Cypher was. The two of you found him lounging on a couch with a bunch of other guys wearing jackets similar to his, talking and laughing with a bottle of expensive looking tequila in his hand. 

“Hola amigo.” Kuroo says in a mocking tone, sitting next to Cypher. You sit next to Kuroo, and he puts his arm around you possessively. 

“Hola lovers.” Oikawa slurs, lazily placing an arm around Kuroo. “Good to see you didn’t scare princesa away.” He says, nodding to you. 

“You’re (y/n).” You hear someone say from the opposite end of the couch. You turn your head to see a guy with tan skin and short spiky brown hair staring at you. 

“Uh, yeah.” You say, caught off guard by how many people already knew you. Seriously, how often did Kuroo talk about you? 

“Oh, sorry.” He says, appearing to snap himself out of deep thought. “Cypher was telling us about the last job and mentioned you. Just put two and two together. I’m Iwaizumi.” He says, getting up and extending a hand to you. You shake his hand, smiling at him. 

“That’s right, I was telling a story! Now, as I was saying…” Oikawa continues on, recounting the events of the job that you accompanied them on, silver tequila sloshing around in the glass bottle as Oikawa wildly gestures with his hands as the story progresses. 

“So Sly Fox had the cargo the entire time?” Iwaizumi asks, looking at us skeptically. 

“The entire time.” Kuroo says, nodding. “Speaking of the Sly Fox, where is he?” 

“Outside with your crew.” a scary looking guy with deep set eyes answers. His hair looked very unique, a bleach blonde buzz cut with two black stripes running around his head. 

“Thanks Mad Dog.” Kuroo says, getting up, dragging you with him. “Cypher, let’s go. Got some work talk to do with Sly Fox.” Oikawa clumsily gets up, taking the tequila with him. 

The three of you walk down the stairs and out the backdoor, where you immediately see a group of guys sitting around a fire pit, half of them wearing black, and the other half wearing Nekoma bombers. 

“Sly Fox!” Kuroo calls out, getting Kita’s attention. He looks up from his rolling tray, blunt in hand. “We got some business to talk about. You too, Snake Eyes.” He says, pointing at Kenma. 

Kita nods, looking over at his guys and motioning for them to leave the area. Kuroo does the same, and the Nekoma Crew minus Kenma leave. You, Oikawa, and Kuroo each take a seat around the fire. 

“What are we talking about?” Kenma asks, looking over at you and Kuroo. Kita continues to roll, and Oikawa slouches in his seat, taking sips from his bottle. 

“Yeah, what are we talking about fellas?!” Bokuto says with a grin on his face, walking up to the group of you and grabbing a seat. You couldn’t help but smile at his behavior, his charisma. 

“Work stuff, Bokuto.” Kuroo answers, giving Bokuto a warning look. 

“Oh! Got it! Say no more, plausible deniability and all that jazz. You guys let me know if you need me!” He says, getting up immediately and walking away with haste. The entire time the grin on his face never wavered, he didn’t seem the least bit offended by being kicked out of the conversation.

“Bokuto knows the stuff we do, but we keep him out of it. He’s...a bit soft for our line of work. And he knows if he hears anything, he could get in trouble. So, he stays away.” Kita explains, licking his rolling paper and sealing the blunt. 

“We got some new intel from the boss.” Kuroo says. Oikawa sits up, paying attention now that the real business talk had started. “We may know who gave the anonymous tip during the last job.” 

“Someone we know?” Kenma asks. 

Kuroo nods. “Suguru Daishou. Fangs. He’s the lead for the Nohebi Clan.” 

“Nohebi?” You ask. Everyone looks over at you. “They used to work for my dad.”

“What happened to them?” Kita asks, lighting his blunt and getting it started. 

“Daishou crossed my family, I guess he was trying to make a name for himself by taking on my dad. Didn’t end well.” You say, remembering overhearing your father’s work conversations with Fangs when you were in high school. 

“Which would explain the grudge he has, and why he tried to bust us.” Kenma says. 

“But how would he know about the move? There were no other cars on the road that night.” Oikawa points out, setting his bottle down. 

“That’s the million dollar question. We still don’t know how he knew, but we do know he has eyes on us. Which means you guys and your teams need to be careful, at least until the Daishou problem is sorted out. Sound good?” Kuroo asks, looking at Oikawa and Kita. They both nod, understanding the risk that the Nohebi Clan posed. 

“I’ll see what I can find out about Fangs and Nohebi.” Kenma says, which Kuroo nods to. 

“Thank you. The more we know, the better.” Kuroo glances at you, meeting your eyes. “Any of you guys know where Karasuno Killers are?” He asks, looking around the group. 

“Upstairs living room. You got business with them?” Oikawa asks, looking over at you. 

“Something like that.” Kuroo says, taking your hand and standing up. “We’ll catch you guys later.” 

“See ya.” You say, giving a half wave with your cup in your hand. You follow behind Kuroo, once again going through the house and up the stairs. You were keenly aware of the eyes that seemed to follow your every move, and you couldn’t help but notice that they were almost entirely female. What, was Kuroo such a hot commodity that you being with him tonight was a headline? 

“See that, you pulled the E brake too soon.” You hear someone say from the partially shut door. You and Kuroo had made it to the room that Oikawa said the Karasuno Killers were in. 

“You guys watch racing footage at parties?” Kuroo questions, slowly opening the door. Inside, there were three guys sitting on a couch in front of a TV that appeared to be playing a video of a street race. 

“Not everyone is blessed with your drifting skills, DK.” One of the guys say, getting up to greet him. He had a warm smile, dark brown eyes, and short brown hair. Him and Kuroo give each other one of those bro hugs, and afterwards he turns to look at you. 

“I don’t think we’ve met.” He says, extending his hand to you. “Daichi Sawamura. Mechanic for Karasuno Killers.” 

“(y/n) Sakanoshita.” You say, shaking his hand. He raises his eyebrows slightly at surprise, no doubt at the mention of your family name.

“Sakanoshita?” Another guy with a buzzcut and a gruff voice says from behind Daichi.

“As in the King of Tokyo Sakanoshita?!” The third guy says, his voice higher in pitch. He wore his brown hair spiked up, with a single blonde streak right in the middle.

“Please excuse these two dumbasses, they’re not the best socially.” Daichi smiles apologetically, moving to invite you and Kuroo to join them on the couch. Behind you, Kuroo shuts the door. 

“You said you’re a Sakanoshita?” The buzzcut one repeats, staring at you intensely. 

“Tanaka, chill.” Daichi warns, looking over at him. 

“Yeah Tanaka, you’re gonna scare her away.” The guy with the blonde streak jokes, punching Tanaka in the arm. 

“Oh shut it, Noya.” Tanaka says, shoving him back. “Sorry. My sister knew someone with that last name.” He says, looking over at you once more.

“You’re Saeko’s brother?” You ask him, getting his attention. He looks surprised, almost a little scared by his sister’s name being mentioned. 

“How do you know my sister?” He asks, his voice taking on a threatening tone. 

“Yeah, what’s your business with big sis?” Noya asks, eyes darting between you and Kuroo. 

“Take it easy, guys. We mean no harm, I swear it on my crew.” Kuroo says in a peaceful tone. Tanaka and Noya lighten up, but continue to stare at you skeptically. 

“Keishin Ukai was my brother.” You say, causing the three men from Karasuno to sit straight up, simply from the mention of his name. “I know he dated your sister, and I want to talk to her.” 

“No one talks to big sis. Especially not strangers.” Noya says, leaning back against the couch. 

“You’re Black Lungs’ sister?” Daichi asks, looking at you with curiosity. 

“Yeah. He raced under the name Ukai to get away from my family. And I know about the accident. I’m sorry Tanaka.” You say sincerely, looking at Tanaka. You didn’t know to what extent Saeko was injured, but you assumed that she had to have taken some amount of damage. 

Tanaka shrugs, looking away. “It’s all good. Why do you need to talk to my sister?” 

“I need to know the truth about my brother. About how he died. And I heard that your sister and my brother were pretty close, I just want to talk to her about him.” You say, nearly begging. 

Tanaka sat for a second, thinking of a response. “My sister...she doesn’t talk to many people nowadays. She hasn’t been the same since your brother passed. Black Lung was her soulmate, or whatever.” He says awkwardly, shifting in his seat. “I’m sorry, but I don’t want to put her through reliving that night just for your sake. I really am sorry, (y/n), about your brother. He was a cool dude.” 

You sigh, taking a long drink from your cup. You had a feeling it would go like this, but you couldn’t help feeling disappointed by the outcome. 

“We think we know the truth about his death.” Kuroo says, making everyone in the room look at him. “We know it wasn’t an accident.” You knew he was taking a risk saying this, telling these guys the suspicions you held. He was gamlbing with the only intel the two of you had. 

“What do you mean the truth? His death was a tragic accident and that’s that.” Daichi says in an assertive tone. 

“Daichi, it’s okay.” Tanaka says quietly, his eyes not moving from your own. “You two know the truth? Or just theories?” He questions you. 

“We...have theories. But I think that talking to your sister will help point us in the right direction. Or maybe even give us exactly what we need to prove our theories.” You say, trying your hardest to convince Tanaka. 

Tanaka sighs, looking at the TV, which remained paused on a frame of an orange Mitsubishi. “I don’t know.” 

“No one knows you.” Noya points out, getting your attention. “You don’t belong to any crew, I know you’re here with DK but you aren’t officially a part of Nekoma. Everyone knows your dad is a shady dude. And Saeko shouldn’t have to relive Black Lung’s death for a stranger.” 

“You’re right.” You say, knowing that everything he was saying was correct. You were a stranger, the idea of a dead street racer’s little sister suddenly coming out of hiding to ask a thousand questions about her brother’s death was far fetched, even for you. “You guys have no reason to trust me, or to let me talk to Saeko. But I’m desperate. I just — I need to know what happened to my brother. I’ll do anything.” 

“What do you think Saeko would want? What would she have (y/n) do to prove herself?” Kuroo asks. 

“I know exactly what she would want.” Tanaka says, sighing and sitting up. “A race. A memorial for Black Lung. We haven’t had one for a while, but the last time she had one, all the money raised from it went to...a memorial fund. For your brother.” 

“A memorial fund? For Keishin?” You question, uncertain why the son of a millionaire needed a memorial fund. 

“It goes to Saeko. Helps keep the shop open, and funds her research into what happened to your brother.” Daichi answers. 

“So I’m not the only one with theories.” You say, beginning to understand. “I’m assuming it goes to P.I.’s, buying access to private files, stuff like that?” 

“We can neither confirm nor deny that.” Noya says in a robotic tone, like it was a line he was taught to say. 

“If we do the memorial race, who’s racing?” Kuroo asks, changing the topic. 

“Me.” You answer immediately, making everyone look at you in shock. “A Black Lung memorial race, with his little sister making her racing debut. It could be big. Raise a lot of money. I know the type of power my family name has in this city.” 

“And it would prove to Saeko that you’re serious about meeting her.” Daichi points out. 

“Okay, how about this.” Tanaka says, shifting in his seat once more. “You and me, headline race. If we can get some more racers in on this, then great. If you win, you can meet Saeko. If you don’t, then oh well. At least she’ll get some more funds for her...side project.” 

“I can get some more racers in on this.” Kuroo says. 

“Perfect. We got a deal, you two?” Daichi asks, looking between you and Tanaka. You nod, sticking your hand out. 

“Deal.” Tanaka says, shaking your hand.

“Looks like we got a race to plan.” Daichi says, grinning at Kuroo. 

Kuroo smirks, getting up. “I’ll go start recruiting some more racers.” 

You follow Kuroo, getting up and heading for the door. “I’ll see you on the road, cue ball.” You say, smirking at Tanaka. You slowly head out, leaving the door cracked open. 

“HA! CUE BALL! Get it, cause you’re freakin bald!” Noya yells, cackling with laughter. You chuckle, their conservation fading out as you walk with Kuroo back downstairs. 

For about an hour or so, you and Kuroo went around the party, mingling with racers, recruiting them for the Black Lung memorial. You got at least enough people for three more races. So far, the lineup was you vs. Tanaka, Kuroo vs. Bokuto, Iwaizumi vs. Atsumu Miya from Inarizaki, and Oikawa vs. Kita. Kuroo pointed out that there would be a good turnout for the memorial given how many great racers were on the bracket, which made you both nervous and hopeful. 

“So, since when do you race?” Kuroo asks you, sitting down on the couch. 

“I’m pretty sure I can figure it out.” You say, sitting down next to him, draping your legs over his. “Gas pedal makes car go vroom vroom. Seems simple enough.” You joke to him, making him roll his eyes. 

“Sounds like someone needs a teacher.” He says, leaning closer to you. 

“Sounds like someone wants to teach me.” You say, closing the gap between the two of you, kissing him. 

A buzz from your pocket interrupts you, causing you to pull away from Kuroo and take your phone out. 

‘Call me now.’ the text read from your dad. Kuroo saw it over your shoulder, and immediately sat up. 

“Dad, is everything okay?” You ask, trying to drown out the sound of the party. 

“You need to get out of there, have Kuroo take you somewhere safe. Nohebi is looking for us.” Your dad says in a rushed tone. You hear some shuffling on his end, and your mother’s voice in the distance. 

“What? Nohebi knows I’m here?” You ask. Kuroo looks at you with concern, seemingly ready to get up and run at any moment. 

“Daishou has eyes everywhere. Don’t come home, your mother and I won’t be here. Tell Kuroo to protect you no matter what.” There’s a brief moment of silence between the two of you. “Your mom and I love you, sweetheart. We’ll see you soon.” Three beeps signal the end of the call. 

“We need to go. Nohebi’s coming.” You say, jumping up. Kuroo follows suit. 

“I’ll let the guys know.” Kuroo says, beginning to race towards the backyard where Inarizaki, Seijoh, and Nekoma were hanging out. 

You follow him out, trailing behind him as he approaches Cypher and Sly Fox. Before you can catch up to him, he’s already heading back towards you, taking your hand and dragging you through the house and out the front door. 

“Will everyone be okay?” You ask him, running to the car. You hop in, Kuroo doing the same and turning the car on. 

“Between Seijoh, Inarizaki, and Nekoma, they have Nohebi outnumbered three to one. They won’t try anything at a party this crowded. Daishou’s too smart to fight a losing battle.” Kuroo says, immediately racing away from the party, the houses of the neighborhood zooming past your line of sight. “The gangs aren’t the target anyways. We are.” 

As if on cue, you see in the rearview mirror three cars pull up to the party, and Daishou climbs out of one of them. He was vaguely familiar, you could barely recall seeing him in your father’s office, but you knew that he would recognize you and Kuroo in a heartbeat. 

“We got out just in time.” You say, looking over at Kuroo. 

“Barely. We’re not in the clear just yet princess, still need to get somewhere safe.” Kuroo says shortly, continuing to fly down the empty Tokyo streets. “We don’t know if Daishou had eyes on us as we left. And as soon as he realizes we aren’t there, they’re gonna be all over the city looking for us.” 

“So where do we go?” You ask him. 

Kuroo pauses, staring out at the freeway in front of the two of you. “My safehouse. It’s under a bogus name, in an old neighborhood. They won’t know to look there.” 

You nod, sighing and rubbing your eyes. You didn’t feel even the slightest bit tipsy from the drink you had earlier. How did the night go bad so quickly?

“Hey.” Kuroo says gently, reaching over to hold your hand. “Everything will be okay. As soon as we’re at the safehouse, we’ll be in the clear. And I’m sure your mom and dad are somewhere safe as well.” 

His reassurance goes a long way, easing your nerves and allowing you to relax a little. There was no use stressing yourself out while you’re stuck in the car, driving to an unknown destination. 

After about 50 minutes of silent driving, Kuroo finally pulls off of the freeway and enters an old, run down neighborhood. Everything was quiet, and the streetlights overhead were flickering in the darkness. 

“Home sweet home.” Kuroo says, pulling into an alley next to an apartment building. He turns the car off, going to the trunk. You get out as well, watching Kuroo as he drapes a large tarp over the car. A bright red luxury car would definitely stand out in a neighborhood like this. 

Kuroo takes your hand and leads you up the apartment complex stairs to a door labeled ‘A402’. With one of the many keys on his keychain, Kuroo unlocks the door, opening it for you. 

There wasn’t anything very special about the apartment, it seemed like the type of place a person would crash at for a night or two then leave. A small but functional kitchen, a modestly sized living area with a couch and a TV. As you continue further into the apartment, you see a quaint bathroom with a standing shower, and a bedroom barely big enough to fit a full sized bed. 

“There’s some pillows and stuff in the hall closet. And some extra clothes in the bedroom.” Kuroo says, setting his keys on the counter and pulling out his phone. As you reach for a light switch, Kuroo stops you. “Wait, don’t. We shouldn’t make it look like anyone’s home, just in case. At least until I hear back from Kenma.” 

Although his paranoia seemed a bit much for you, you knew that it was for a good reason. If the Nohebi Clan was enough of a threat to make your father go into hiding, no precaution was too extreme. 

“I’m gonna go change.” You call out to him, grabbing a spare shirt and pair of men’s boxers from the bedroom closet. You gently close the door, beginning to strip off your party outfit and changing into Kuroo’s clothes. 

After taking a moment to recollect your thoughts, you decide there was no use worrying about things that were out of your control. Your mother and father, the race that you volunteered for, even the party you just fled from. What was in your control, however, was the bed.

“I’ll put some sheets on the bed.” You shout out to Kuroo once more, grabbing the pillows and sheets from the closet. It felt almost hotel-like, the way everything was pristine and untouched. At least you knew this wasn’t the sort of place Kuroo took other girls. 

“Perfect.” You say, fluffing the pillows one last time, then stepping back to admire your work. 

“I heard back from Kenma.” Kuroo says, pushing the door open and entering the room. He flops onto the bed, ruining your perfect sheets and collapsing your freshly fluffed pillows. 

You sigh in annoyance, closing your eyes to keep your cool. “What did he say?” You ask, sitting next to Kuroo. 

“Everything’s all good. Daishou and his guys showed up, asked for us. Oikawa and Kita were waiting for them, so they barely even made it past the front door. Told them we left a while ago, and that they didn’t know where we went.” Kuroo rubs his forehead with his hands, pushing his hair back. In the dim light that radiated from the street lamps outside, you could see the exhaustion in his eyes. 

“No one got hurt? Are they still out looking for us?” You ask, your brain going a thousand miles an hour. 

“Everyone's fine.” Kuroo says gently, taking your hand. “From what Kenma knows, they gave up looking for us and now they’re trying to find your dad. I think they’re assuming I brought you to them.” 

You breathe another sigh of relief. The two of you were finally in the clear, finally safe, at least for tonight. “So we’re okay? At least for now?” 

“For now, yes. In the morning Kenma will let me know if we’re all clear to go back to your place. But for right now, we’re safe.” Kuroo says, turning over to face you, wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his head on your thigh. 

“We’re safe.” You whisper to yourself, running your fingers through Kuroo’s unruly black hair. The moment of calm being shared between the two of you is disrupted by a loud rumbling from your stomach. 

“You hungry?” Kuroo asks, grinning against your leg. 

“Maybe.” You say, realizing how hungry you’ve been all night. Is eating at parties still not cool, or was that only a high school thing? You didn’t see anyone else eating at Bokuto’s, so you assume it still wasn’t. Or maybe you were too worried about everyone staring at you to notice if anyone was eating. 

“I’ll go grab some stuff at the convenience store.” Kuroo says, getting up and grabbing his jacket. “Onigiri?” 

“And some ramen please.” You request politely, smiling sweetly at him. “Be careful.” 

“Always am, princess.” He says, leaning down to plant a kiss on your lips. 

Kuroo exits the room and you hear the front door shut and lock. You found yourself in a silent, dark apartment, alone. 

‘Might as well see if the TV works.’ you think to yourself, getting up and walking to the living room and plopping down on the couch. Just like the bed, it felt brand new, as if you were the first person to sit on it. 

After flicking the TV on, you mindlessly scroll through channels, trying to find something to occupy your mind. It felt wrong, how everything was so dangerous and scary tonight, but all that you could think of was that one thing Bokuto said. ‘No more bachelor’s life for you!’ What does that even mean? 

Grabbing your phone, you realize that you really had no one to talk to. Normal girls would text their best friend, or even just a regular friend when they want to talk about boy problems. Normal girls, with normal friends and safe lives. Maybe Kuroo really is the only person you talk to. 

You scroll through your recent messages, trying to find anyone to talk to. Dad — no. For obvious reasons. Mom — maybe on a regular day, but not right now. Kuroo — big no, for even more obvious reasons. Dentist — yeah, if you were really that desperate. 

“I guess I could talk to myself.” You mutter out loud. After a moment of lonesome silence, you sigh. “Yeah, no. I’m not that crazy.” 

What kind of bachelor’s life was Kuroo living before you came along, before that early morning watching the sunrise? You always assumed he was the no strings attached sort of guy, considering the type of work he does. But then again, the only times you ever saw him was when he was working. Maybe the Kuroo you knew was just one side, the professional side. Of course he let his guard down around you, joking and flirting when you were alone. It had been that way for as long as you could remember, since Kuroo started working for your dad. But maybe that was just another side, the side for girls he was interested in. Maybe you weren’t the only one who got to see that side. You saw two out of however many sides he has — the flirt and the henchman. Maybe you didn’t know him at all. 

The sound of the front door creaking open draws you out of your thoughts, and you look up to see Kuroo with a convenience store bag filled with food. 

“I wasn’t sure which onigiri you’d want, so I got one of each.” He says, plopping a bag filled with various onigiris onto the living room table. “And I got two ramens, spicy and regular. I’ll take whichever one you don’t want.” 

“Spicy please.” You say, chuckling at how much food Kuroo got for just the two of you. Kuroo shrugs his jacket off, leaving it on the couch. Grabbing the bag with the ramen, he walks into the kitchen, flicking the lights on. 

“One spicy ramen coming right up.” He says, pulling a pot out of the cupboard. You grab a salmon onigiri from the bag in front of you, unwrapping it and taking a bite. 

“How often do you use this place?” You ask, watching Kuroo as he fills the pot with water and puts it on the stove. 

“Once in a blue moon, really. If a job goes wrong and I need a place to lay low, I stay here. Or if I need a place to crash and don’t feel like driving home.” He answers. 

“Where do you live, anyways?” 

“Close by the Nekoma shop, same building as Kenma. We talked about being roommates for a while, but we agreed we’d probably start hating one another.” Kuroo chuckles to himself, walking back to the living room to grab an onigiri for himself. 

“So it’s just you?” You ask, trying to steer the conversation in your favor. 

“Me and Yoruichi.”

“Yoruichi?” You ask, feeling like you knew the name from somewhere. Maybe an old anime?

“My cat.” He says, grinning. “I found her on a job, actually. She kept following me around and just jumped into my car when I wasn’t looking.” 

“Sounds like a pretty good life.” You say, trying your hardest to be subtle. “A bachelor’s life.” Okay, not so subtle. 

“I knew you were still thinking about that.” Kuroo says, laughing. “You know you can just ask me stuff. No need to try and jump over hurdles trying to talk to me.” 

“I’m not really good at this.” You admit. “You know...talking. Being open. Relationship stuff.” 

“Relationship, huh?” Kuroo asks, turning to you and smirking. The pot of water behind him was at a rolling boil, letting steam into the kitchen. 

You roll your eyes, your cheeks were definitely blushing but you hope that Kuroo couldn’t see it in the dim light. “Whatever this is.” You say quietly, knowing that a real label was the last thing either of you were thinking of with all the things you both were dealing with. 

“Like I said, ask me anything.” Kuroo says, his back turned to you as he stirred the ramen. 

“What did Bokuto mean by ‘a bachelor’s life’?” You ask, getting up to join Kuroo in the kitchen. You lean against the counter opposite the stove, staring at Kuroo’s muscular back. 

“I was...definitely a bachelor. For a while.” Kuroo says, back still turned to you. 

“Like...you had…” you say, trailing off. You were torn between saying “hoes” or “bitches”.

“I had...some girls that I spent time with. Nothing serious, though. I always made sure to keep things casual.” The conversation felt tense, slowly but surely growing more and more awkward as more details were being revealed. 

“I don’t really care about how many there were.” You say quickly, reassuring Kuroo and clearing some of the tension. “I don’t care who they are either. But is there anyone I should be worried about? It felt like everyone was staring at me at the party.” The memory of all the girls at the party staring at you curiously was persisting in your mind. 

“No one to worry about, really. None of them seem like the type to backstab, especially considering soon everyone will know you’re a Sakanoshita.” Kuroo says slyly, referring to the upcoming race in memory of your brother. You knew that as soon as everyone learned of your family, your sense of anonymity in Kuroo’s world would be gone. 

“I have one more question.” You say, moving to stand next to the stove, nearly in front of Kuroo. “If those girls were nothing, and you usually keep things casual, what are we?” 

Kuroo pauses, thinking for a moment before setting down his chopsticks and turning the heat to a simmer. Turning to you, he places his hands on either side of the counter next to you, trapping you underneath him. Your heart raced as you felt your breath catch in your throat, caught off guard by Kuroo’s sudden closeness to you. 

“I’m whatever you want me to be.” He says, barely louder than a whisper, his lips hovering over yours. 

“You’re mine.” You say, your gaze bouncing from his eyes to his lips. Kuroo moves closer to you, his body pressing against yours. 

“I’m yours.” He responds, wrapping one of his arms around your waist. 

“Kuroo…” You whisper, lips grazing his. He reaches next to you, turning the stove off. In an instant, his lips crash against yours. You wrap your arms around his neck, desperate for more — more contact, more kisses, more Kuroo. The entire night Kuroo kept you close to him, never leaving your side at the party, always making sure to let his kisses linger a few seconds longer than normal. All the pent up tension was finally being released, the adrenaline rush that came with all the drama from tonight only fueled the boldness of yours and Kuroo’s actions. 

You grind your hips against him, making him groan. You were very aware of two things; his growing member, hard against your body, and the sudden wetness between your legs. 

You gently push against Kuroo, freeing yourself from underneath him. His lips stay attached to yours, refusing to break the seal the two of you made. In one swift motion, you release from his grasp, and without looking back, you calmly walk to the bedroom, leaving Kuroo standing in the kitchen alone, pining for more. 

“Are you coming or not? Make sure you turn off the stove.” You call behind you, toying with Kuroo. You grin to yourself, knowing that you were just as irresistible to him as he was to you.

You open the bedroom door, behind you Kuroo’s footsteps grew closer and closer. Suddenly, you feel his arms around your waist again, and in an instant Kuroo is in front of you grabbing you by the throat, moving you so your back is against the door, pushing you backwards to shut it. 

“Such a pretty princess.” Kuroo says, closing the gap between you two. You felt your heart rate quickening, being trapped under Kuroo’s touch like this. A light moan escapes your lips, this dominant side of Kuroo makes you want him even more. His hand wrapped around your throat, his hard cock against your leg, the whole room felt electrified. 

“Kuroo please.” You whisper, eager for more. 

“You want me?” Kuroo asks, his lips barely touching yours. He wraps his other arm around you, grabbing your ass and pulling you against his body. The only thing that stopped the two of you from being directly pressed against one another was his hand around your throat. 

“Yes.” You answer breathlessly, moving your head forward, your lips colliding with his. Kuroo breathes heavily, removing his hand from your throat and moving to grab your ass. Almost by instinct, you give a light jump, wrapping your legs around Kuroo’s waist, his hands supporting you and keeping you from falling. 

Kuroo moves backwards until his legs hit the bed, then he slowly sits and reclines backwards, careful not to drop you or break the kiss. He maintains a firm grip on your ass as you straddle him grinding your hips against his, yearning for more friction between the bulge being held back by his jeans and your throbbing pussy. 

His fingers gently graze at the bottom of your shirt, tugging it upwards. You take the hint, sitting up and removing your top effortlessly. Kuroo does the same, sitting up slightly and lifting his shirt over his head. In the dim glow of the street light from outside, you could just barely make out the dragon tattoo on that stretched from his neck down his arm. 

“Take these off.” Kuroo says, rubbing your thighs.

“What’s the magic word?” You tease. 

“Now.” He says, reaching for your neck, forcefully pulling you down to look him in the eyes. You smirk, relishing in the fact you were able to see this side of Kuroo. There was no fear within you as he tightened his grip around your throat, only more and more arousal at the sight of the great Drift King grasping for control. 

Gently, you take hold of his wrist, making him let go of your neck. After placing a small kiss on his thumb, you get up, unbuttoning your pants. Kuroo’s eyes never left you, he was hypnotized, his hand rubbing his hardened crotch. He almost looked as if he was stuck in a trance, watching you undress before him, as if you were something out of a magazine that had come to life right before his eyes. 

Reaching behind you, you unclip your bra, letting it fall to the floor, your nipples already rock hard. Kuroo lets out a small “fuck”, watching you in amazement. You turn to look at him, feeling no need to cover your nude body, no need to hide from him. You want him to see you, it turns you on watching him touch himself as he stares at you with lust in his eyes. At this moment, you wanted nothing more than to climb into that bed with him and fuck all night long. 

You take a few steps closer to him, bending down and reaching for his pants, smirking as you hear his breath catch in his throat. Kuroo moves his hands away, hoisting himself up on his elbows to watch you. After unbuttoning and unzipping his pants, he moves slightly to allow you to remove his pants — and to his surprise — his underwear as well. 

If there was a god out there, you were certain that they personally blessed Tetsurou Kuroo with a gorgeous penis. Standing perfectly erect in front of you, you stop for a moment to simply take it all in. The size, the girth, the slight lean to the left, the vein popping out in excitement, the droplets of precum gathering on the head. At just the mere sight of his cock, you felt a fire light inside of you, eager to pleasure him.  

“You just gonna sit and stare all night?” Kuroo asks sarcastically, looking down at you with a smirk. Without saying a word, you gently lick the precum off of the head, your eyes not leaving his. He gently sighs, his smirk falling as his mouth stays slightly agape. You will yourself to salivate, and in one seemingly effortless motion, you take his entire length in your mouth, the tip hitting the back of your throat. You gag slightly, trying your hardest to relax your throat to keep his dick in your mouth. Kuroo’s head falls back in pleasure, and a beautiful moan escapes his lips. 

“Goddamn, princess.” Kuroo says, lazily picking his head up to look you in your eyes. Once again maintaining eye contact, you slowly withdraw his dick from your mouth, allowing your drool to dribble from your mouth onto his penis. Kuroo’s chest continued to rise and fall heavily, watching your every move. Licking one long stripe along the vein of his penis, you once again take him in your mouth, this time creating a rhythm, your head bobbing up and down as your hand strokes the length that you couldn’t fit, letting your spit lubricate his cock. 

You begin to lose yourself in the moment, allowing yourself to close your eyes and bask in the sound of Kuroo’s soft groans as you pleasure him. 

“Come here.” Kuroo says, breaking your concentration. You slowly take his length out of your mouth, leaving it wet with your saliva. Kuroo reaches for your thighs, pulling you upwards to look you straight into your eyes as you hover over him, his wet length hitting your inner thigh.

“Sit on my face.” Kuroo commands roughly, hands wandering up and down your legs and ass, his fingers gently brushing the lips of your vagina. You shiver at the small contact made, ready for more. After planting a short kiss on Kuroo’s lips, you let him guide you until your pussy is just barely hovering over his lips, his hands securely gripping your thighs, your bare tits practically glowing in the dim light streaming in from the empty street. You felt so defenseless, exposing yourself as Kuroo stared up at your naked body, you both knew he was strong enough to hold you down against his mouth if he wanted to. 

Slowly, tentatively, you lower yourself down, your heart pounding out of your chest in excitement. Without missing a beat, Kuroo’s large hands tighten their grip on your thighs, holding you steady as his tongue furiously licks your pussy, practically making you double over in ecstasy. 

Your moans and whimpers of pleasure echo through the room, and Kuroo takes this as a signal to quicken his pace, his tongue licking fast strokes against your clit and dipping slightly into your hole. His pace continued getting faster and faster, tongue alternating between circling your clit and deeply thrusting into your hole. You were certain he was leaving bruises on your thighs, trying to keep you still against his devilish mouth. Gripping tightly onto his hair, you feel yourself beginning to come undone on top of him, your walls tightening as you grind your hips against Kuroo’s face, his nose nudging against your clit, the pace never slowing down. You weren’t 100% sure he could breathe, but you didn’t really care. All that mattered to you was reaching your climax with Kuroo’s face buried in your pussy. 

“Kuroo!” You moan out, pulling his hair a little harder as you feel your walls pounding as you hit your peak, struggling screams escaping your mouth as Kuroo continues gently lapping at your clit as you cum. It took everything in you just to stay upright, the intensity of Kuroo’s mouth never letting up even as you came. You ride out your high on Kuroo’s face, slowly releasing your grip on his head as he takes his hands off your thighs. 

As you continue to try to catch your breath, you lift yourself up, giving Kuroo room to breathe. He breathes deeply as well, looking up at you with a smirk. 

“You sound cute when you scream my name.” He says smugly, rubbing your thigh. You roll your eyes, your cheeks burning. Shifting backwards, you widen your stance to straddle his waist again, the tip of his penis just barely grazing the lips of your drenched pussy. 

“And I like you better when you’re quiet.” You say, just barely louder than a whisper. Your face was once again centimeters away from his, and his lips were still glistening with your cum. Without hesitation Kuroo’s lips meet yours, sloppy, wet kisses being swapped between the two of you as your hand takes hold of his dick, lining it up with your entrance. 

You watch as Kuroo pulls away from the kiss, his face contorting in satisfaction as you sink into him. You sigh, closing your eyes as his length slowly starts filling you up. There was only a little resistance, your walls having to stretch to adjust to his size. But even so, he felt so comfortable inside of you. It felt as if the two of you were made for one another. 

You feel your eyes roll back as you shift your hips, his dick twitching slightly inside of you. Kuroo’s hands gripped onto your ass deeply, urging you to move, to create some sort of friction. With the support of his hands, you move your hips upwards, then downwards, up, down, up, down, two bodies moving almost perfectly in sync as the room filled with the sounds of Kuroo’s moans and your screams. 

The two of you kept a rhythmic pace to maintain the high you were both building, his hands guiding your hips as you steadily let your body rise and fall against his. Fireworks exploded at your core every time your hips collided with his, the head of his dick ramming against your cervix. 

After some time you slow down, your legs were getting more and more tired as you rocked against him. Kuroo senses your exhaustion and effortlessly flips you over onto your back, getting on top of you. Lining up his rock hard cock at your entrance, he looks down at you with a malicious grin. 

“So desperate for my dick, huh princess?” Kuroo teases, letting the head of his penis rub along your soaking wet pussy, your walls clenching every time it barely grazes your clit.  

“Just get inside me already.” You demand, your body aching for more. You were so close to reaching your second high, and you were more than ready to keep going all night if Kuroo wanted to. 

“What’s the magic word?” Kuroo says, using your words from earlier against you. He slowly lowers himself until his lips graze your hardened nipple. The tip of his dick continues to rub against you, making your pussy throb. Kuroo flicks your nipple with his tongue, before taking it between his teeth and nibbling softly, causing you to yelp at the sudden contact. Kuroo moves away from your nipple, sucking hard on the soft tissue of your breasts, leaving hickeys scattered across your chest. 

“Please fuck me Kuroo!” You beg, unable to take any more stimulation. You feel Kuroo chuckle against your skin, right before he finally lets his tip enter you. He pushes into you at a painstakingly slow rate, making you groan in anticipation, shutting your eyes tightly. Kuroo always left you yearning for more, lusting for his touch. 

Kuroo moves his head upwards, nestling his face into your neck as he gradually increases his pace. He leaves small kisses along your neck, taking your ear lobe between his teeth and tugging on it, making your eyes roll back as you let out a loud moan. You shift underneath him, bucking your hips upwards as you wrap your legs around his waist. Kuroo groans into your neck, letting his head rest against your shoulder as he continues to pound into you, leaving shockwaves running through your body with every thrust. 

“Kuroo, please make me cum.” You moan out, tangling your hands in his hair. Kuroo quickly pushes himself upward, hoisting your legs up and using his thighs to keep your hips suspended in the air, his dick still deep in you. Kuroo smirks as he sees your eyes roll back in pleasure, your hands grasping at the sheets around you, your breasts bouncing with every thrust. His smirk only grows wider as he begins rubbing small circles on your clit with his thumb, causing you to scream so loud you were certain everyone in the neighborhood could hear you. 

With this added stimulation, you felt yourself getting closer to your climax much faster, the pressure building up in your pussy as Kuroo continues fucking you from this new angle. Without any warning, you feel your walls clenching like a vice around Kuroo’s dick, causing Kuroo to take his thumb off of your clit so his hands could grab your waist, keeping you still as you cum all over him. 

Your climax is only further intensified by Kuroo continuing to pound into your tight cunt, aching for his own release. The feeling of your vaginal walls spasming around his cock was more than enough for him, but getting to see you scream in pleasure as he sends you over the edge is what really did it for him. To him, there was no better sight than seeing his princess cum. 

It didn’t take long until Kuroo let out a throaty groan, his grip on your hips tightening as he fucks you even harder. 

“Cum inside of me.” You barely make out, your body overrun with satisfaction. Kuroo leans down once more, pinning your hands over your head as you wrap your legs around him. Looking deeply into his eyes, you watch as his face contorts in ecstasy, his forehead dropping against yours. You feel his cock twitch inside of you, and you feel your cunt fill up with Kuroo’s hot cum. 

After a last few sloppy thrusts, Kuroo pulls out of you, leaving you lying on the bed breathless, your chest rising and falling as you try to gain your composure. Your pussy was practically bursting with liquids, both yours and his. Kuroo briskly walks over to the bathroom, and you hear some shuffling and the sink running. Kuroo returns with a wet washcloth, kneeling in front of your soaking wet vagina and tenderly wiping up any cum that was on you. 

“Such a gentleman.” You comment, looking down at Kuroo as he concentrates on cleaning you up. He looks up at you, smiling when he realizes you were watching him. 

“Only the best for my girl.” He says, getting up and wiping his dick off with the rag. You move to lay on your side, feeling more than content with the events that just occurred. Kuroo lays next to you, looking into your eyes. 

“My girl?” You repeat back at him, squinting your eyes skeptically. Kuroo rolls his eyes, throwing his arm around your waist and pulling you next to him.

“I’m yours. You’re mine. That’s the deal.” He says, winking at you. 

“Since when am I yours?” You ask teasingly, knowing damn well that there was no arguing that you and Kuroo belonged to one another. 

“Since you screamed my name so loud the entire neighborhood heard you.” Kuroo says, smirking. “The hickeys speak for themselves too. They’re like a personal tag.” 

“Shut up.” You say, rolling your eyes at his lewd comments. You couldn’t hide the smile on your face as you thought about the idea of being Kuroo’s. “I’m yours.” You whisper, inching your face closer to Kuroo’s.

“You’re mine.” Kuroo responds back, placing a loving kiss on your lips. There wasn’t any lust, any heat in this kiss, which was a drastic change from the absolutely filthy deeds the two of you were just committing. It was a simple kiss, sealing the deal the two of you made. 

“Round two after dinner?” Kuroo asks jokingly, pulling away from your kiss. You laugh, resting your forehead against his, lazily nodding at the proposal of more sex. 

Alone with Kuroo in that tiny little safehouse, you felt more at home than you had felt in years. Maybe it was the intensity of everything that happened that night, maybe it was the sense of belonging you felt as you laid in Kuroo’s arms, maybe it was the way your heart fluttered every time you heard Kuroo say “I’m yours”. Perhaps it was all of it, all of these emotions and sensations coming together, a light in the middle of the darkest storm that raged on around you, right outside the walls of this apartment. That storm wasn’t going to stop, and you and Kuroo were fully aware of the dangers that lurked around the corner for the both of you. But maybe the comfort the two of you found in one another was more than just a shelter from the impending storm. A solemn promise that regardless of the future that lay ahead, there was one constant that would remain true — he is yours, and you are his. 

[funtarou]

Bully || Angst End || Suna x Reader

Bully! Suna Rintarou x Extremely Timid! Reader headcanons, part 2

Me questioning why people like this bullying trope. Are ya'll okay? Do ya'll need a hug?

So the popular demand is fluff ending. Idk what do people expect from a fluff ending after Suna has been acting so mean 🤔

Am gonna make two ending. But this one is the angst one. I'm gonna post the fluff continuation another time because I don't like making this post too long and making people wait too long✋

Story Warning: Comfort/Hurt ig, angst, mentioned past action of bullying, Suna kinda mean and dense, crybaby/nervous reader, curse words, small violence session, a lousy attempt at a quick redemption of a bully idk lol

Writing Warning: Like always, my English and Grammar aren't the best, sometimes I Made spelling mistakes, and I didn't proof-read my stuff enough Times to spot the autocorrect my keyboard put without me realizing it.

Read Part 1 Here

After a few more days of arguing with his ego and his heart, Suna decides to apologize. Even if you don't accept his apology, atleast he'll make some percentage of the guilt calmed down because he atleast attempt to say sorry.

His original plan that he cooked in his mind was simply walking up to you when you're alone and say sorry, before walking away again.

Well, that was the original plan.

He attempted that plan once, but when he's only a few more steps away from you, his legs feels like it turned to jello and his heart started to beat faster. He asumes it was the sudden pump of adrenaline from his guilt. But that uncomfortable feeling made him repulsively act on habbit and before he knew it, his hand was already pushing the back of your head down. Like he usually does when he passed by you in the hallways.

Your head was pushed down rather roughly and you almost fall from the sudden impact. When you looked up, you're meet with the person who you were glad stop bothering for awhile, until now that is.

When he realized what he had done, he quickly pulled back his hand and stared down at your figure, your head still hangs low in a pathetic attempt to hide yourself from him.

He was about to say something when one of your friend appeared and Excuse you from him before dragging you out of his sight.

Conclusion, he somehow became pathetic at self-control when being around you.

It pissed him off, and Made him remember why he hates when you're around. You always Made his blood boils and heart beat faster than before, and the feeling just went up to his face sometimes, making it look slightly redder. It's anger, it's hate, atleast that's what he's been telling himself. Because what else could the feeling be other than that. The only other times he feels like that is after practice or doing something that took his breath away, like sport.

That doesn't mean he's backing down from his own decision on apologizing one way or another. And now he started to take what Atsumu once said more seriously

"Where ya headin, Suna?"

Atsumu asked, seeing as Suna didn't cross the road like he usually do when going home after practice. Instead Suna continues to follow the twins as they turned a corner at the side walk. Ginjima was with them a moment ago until he stopped at a bus station.

"I'm just going to that store near your neightbourhood. Need to buy some stuff."

Suna nonchalantly answers, not even looking straight at the two brothers walking in front of him. His eyes are more focused on his phone and in the stuff he wrote in the notepad app.

"What could a Suna Rintarou buy in a gift and bakery store?"

Atsumu said half-teasingly with a chuckle, but inside he was actually curious and wanted to know the answer. Osamu was the same, waiting for answer even though he's not looking.

"a gift and a cake or something, whatever they sell there."

At first the twins just hummed in reply to the answer. And a moment of silence engulfed the three of them as they continues walking. It didn't took long till they reached the twins house and part ways, Suna still continuing his walk.

It took till the twins closed their doors before they proceed what Suna answered. And it took them another second to come bursting out of their house and running after Suna. When the middle blocker is in arms reach, the two immidiately cling to him, stopping his steps and almost making the three fall flat on the ground.

"WHAT ARE YOU PLANNING TO DO WITH A GIFT, HUH, SUNA?!"

"IT'S NOT ANYWHERE NEAR MOTHER'S DAY OR FATHER'S DAY AND IT IS SURE NOT CHRISTMAS OR ANYTHIN!"

Suna wish he had kept his mouth shut.

The twins ended up tagging Along in Suna's Shopping journey.

For the most part, Atsumu and Osamu were just window shopping, while Suna is seriously looking at the gifts and it's prize tags while measuring the amount of money he has left.

At the end, Suna decided to buy a pair of earings that's decorated with baby blue fake gems. Not the most expensive gift, but hey, he's still in Highschool and only given allowence once a month from his parents. Along with that, he also buys some chocolate truffles that came with a saying a card. Obviously he's planning to write "I'm sorry" or something in it.

The twins keep bombarding him with annoying questions Along the way back to each other's home. Most content of the questions are just Why did he buy those and for who he bought it. Luckily he could dodge most of the questions by answering vaguely Ir just repeatedly saying "it's whatever" or "non of your business".

Even tho he already got the gifts, he still needs a few days to Made up his mind and control himself. Trying so hard everytime to stop himself from doing something bad to you. It's a habbit at this point to bother you, you know? It's been one of his things everyday without a miss before he decided he wanna apologize. But he really tries okay. He's been talking to his mirror and rehearsing the stuffs he's gonna say, to the point his mom thinks he's gone coo coo.

At some point he thoughs this nervous and guilt-drowned feelings is too much. He's even acting like a lovesick teenager who wanted to confess to their crush but has little to no courage to. It's weird, he's trying to apologize and stop teasing you, not trying to get you to date him. Atleast that's what he said to himself.

Finally, he had found that courage inside of him to face and (try to) talk to you nicely. He feels like he's in a more fresher mood and state, and everything has been going smoothly since he woke up today. He didn't oversleept, the breakfast was his favorite food, the walk to school was calming, the weather is also very friendly, No homework due today and his lunch for once was homemade by his mom. Maybe this good morning vibe Will help him.

He waited till lunch break to go and search for you, drag you to somewhere more quiet and apologize with the gift. He already has the blue print in his mind of how the scenario might go. And he's even ready to vanish from your existence if you refuse his apology.

Lunch break finally arrives. But something didn't go as planned.

"Where are ya goin' Suna?"

Atsumu voice stopped him from going down the stairs, to the first grade's floor.

"... I have business with someone."

Suna answered a little bit hesitant. He only glanced slightly at Atsumu before averting his gaze back down to the staircase. But when he did look back at the staircase, surprisingly Osamu appeared walking up the stairs towards him.

"with who, Suna?"

Osamu asked, his monotone voice somehow sounding more intentionally intimidating than usual.

"Wha- Osamu when did you get there-- And it's non of you two idiot's business okay."

Suna tries to passed by Osamu to walk down the stairs, attempting to just ignore the twins. It's probably just one of their teasings or jokes again.

What he didn't expect though, was Osamu suddenly grabbing his shirt colar and slamming him againts the nearby wall in the middle of the staircase. It took him off-guard and made him cought from the sudden impact that travels through his body. His reflexes Made him gripped Osamu's hands that are still holding him by his colar. Even though Suna is taller than the quiet twin, but the view of Osamu's glare at him from up top wasn't anything pleasant. And for once, Suna's on edge.

"Answer, Suna."

Osamu's voice sounded like when he and Atsumu was in a fight, but more angry than annoyed.

"I- tsk, fine! I was going to see (Y/n), okay? Let me go, man."

Suna grunted, trying to shove Osamu away from him, only to be stopped when Atsumu's the one pushing him back againts the wall by his shoulder.

"And what? Steal her stuff again? Scribble every nasty sylables ya know on her books? Trip her down on her face? What other "jokes" are ya plannin to give her now, huh?!"

Atsumu yelled, the tone of anger clear in his loud voice. His voice also attracted passing students' attention and some stopped to circle around the staircase where the three is having a tense moment.

"-- What are you talking about, Atsumu?"

Suna tries to play it cool, act as if he doesn't know what the twins are talking about. He gave the two his own glare, but that doesn't hide the way his eyebrows curved in a confused manner. How did the two suddenly know? Did you finally decided to snitch on him after he has given you days of break from his rude presence?

"Don't play dumb on us, Suna. Damn, yer one sneaky fucker to be hidin' yer nasty bullying on (Y/n) from us. From everyone in the team. Last time ya trip her and Made her nose and knee bleeds, what now? Push her down the stairs?!"

Atsumu taunts at Suna with a low chuckle, but the smirk he has right now is anything but playful.

"Thank God her friend finally stood up for her and told us about ya. What did ya do all this time, huh?! She was so scared to admit it when we ask her... We even need to search through her room for evidences for some of your nasty acts. Why did she even try to cover up a shitstain like you."

Ah, so that's how. Her friend snitched on him. Damn if only he knew the bitch that blew his cover off. And he was so close from closing and hiding the problem forever with you without outside factors bothering. What a bad timing, he should've done it faster and yet his stupid ego just needs to get in the way.

"Yer lucky she doesn't want us to told on ya to the teachers and her parents. But get this, Suna..."

Osamu finally spoke up again, loosening his grip on Suna's shirt, only to throw a Swift punch across the taller male's face. Suna's head hit the wall behind him, before his body slides down the wall. It took him a few seconds to get his eyes focused again, the impact behind his head from the wall making his head rather disoriented. Osamu is shorter than him, but he was always the physically stronger twins.

"... Don't ever go near her again. Don't ever talk, don't even breath the same air as her. Or you'll pay the same weight as the one you've put her through."

Osamu continues, cracking his knuckles before stepping back for his twin to step in front of Suna. Atsumu didn't say anything as he grabbed Suna's colar once again and threw another punch across the untouched part of his face.

"We're being merciful here, Suna. One punch from each. And just so you know, your position Will be on edge in the team if we decided to tell coach or Kita-san about your attitude."

Atsumu coldly says, letting go of Suna to let his body slump back down. The twins didn't threw him another glance as they went down the stairs, passing through the students crowding the place. No one dares to speak a word to the twins, not when they look this pissed off.

It stings. His face stings and his chest stings. His head feels like it's ringing, and at this point he doesn't know if it's because of the punches or because of hummiliations. People are still just staring at him. Suna Rintarou, who was known to be intimidating to others, who was known for his nonchalant face and scary glare. Now that same Suna Rintarou is sitting in the middle of the staircase, two bruises on his face, feeling hummiliated by the crowds watching.

But there's another sting in his chest beside embarrassement. He cant quiet get what it is. It appears everytime he reply how Osamu warn him from ever going near you. It appears when he imagined being another stranger in your story, a bully that you forgot as time goes by. He though he already try to imagined this kind of thing, he though he was ready to actually be another nobody in your life after he apologize. So why does his eyes feels like it burns after someone else Made it clear to him that he Will not be associated with you in any other way after this.

The hand that was gripping the gift he was going to give you tightens. The gift bag crumbled behind his back, where he had try to hide it from anyone to see ever since he exit his classroom. He's not sure if the treats inside is okay anymore. And he could careless if the earings were still in one piece, or if the earings' box is okay. He wouldn't be able to give it to you anyways. Not with what the twins had say.

A few seconds passed by and a teacher arrived to break down the crowd. The teacher asked of Suna's condition and details of the previous commotion, but Suna were just giving her vague explanation and a "it's not a big deal" excuse. She didn't seem to commentate much, and just excused Suna to go to the infirmary to check on the bruises on his face. It weren't noticeable to him at first, but there are small blood on the side of his lips, where it probably got injured from that punch either Osamu or Atsumu gave.

He walks passed by the students who was watching the scenery before in silence. His head hangs low and he didn't bother to hide the crumbled up bag in his hand anymore. Not like anyone would care, they're too focus on his Messy looking self.

With all his luck going downhill the moment lunch break starts, he wasn't expecting to bumped in to you as he turned a corner. You looked up at him, already stammering your apology. But you stopped midways when you realized, 1) it's Suna and 2) his face looked beat up, two prominent bruises on his face and a faded blood stain on his lips. As if you forgot the person in front of you was your bully, you stood closer to examine his face, worriedness clear on your face and voice.

"Suna-senpai, W-what happened? It looks p-pretty bad. D-did Tsumu and Samu--"

"It's non of your fucking business, bitch."

Suna cuts you off, Made you go silent in the middle of your nervous sentences. Your hand that was going up to touch his face stopped mid-way, as you noticed his glare.

This was a perfect chance. A perfect chance to apologize quietly while no one is around, while the twins aren't around. He could've easily said sorry and hand you the bag while running off somewhere else. And he just blew it by saying more mean things to you. He though he practiced enough to keep his nasty sylables shut. Guess the twins' warning still has him on edge, turning on his fight and flight mode even in the calming presence of you.

...

Calming?

"B-but Suna-senpai--!"

"God you're so annoying. Cant you just leave me alone so those two idiots Will be fucking happy. Now fuck off!-"

It somehow hurts now, saying these words. He spent so much time thinking how he's gonna dissappear from your story' after he apologize and close the case between you two. He spent so much time thinking what you would've wanted in his head, how you'd love it once he dissappear. But he forgot to think much of the aching feelings he has, the so called "annoying" feelings that appears when you're around. The annoying yet sometimes comforting feeling.

He walked passed by your Frozen figure, trying to ignore the hurt and shocked expression you gave him after he yelled.

Even if he does realize what his weird feelings meant now, what differences does that make? He still has been a complete jerk to you. There are no sweet memories he gave. There are no comfort that you could find in him at this point. And the twins had already told him not to be involved with you in any way anymore. Even if he shouts "I actually love you" now, it won't change anything. He'll still be another random face in your story, clubmates with your childhood friends, someone you once try to avoid, a senior whom bullied you because he likes you but finally left you alone.

'God cant I turn back Time and forget ever saying hi to her.'

A/N: Gonn work on how to make a fluff ending from this point of the story now

For ya'll who just want the angst, ya'll can stop here ✌️

[justkending]

Is that seriously your password? (Birthday One-shots)

Prompt: Is that seriously your password?

Challenge: justkending Birthday drabbles and one-shots

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2100+

A/N: This was asked for a by anon, so thank you to whoever you may be! I thought this was cute little one-shot once it came to me! Also, coming up with the password took me a seconds, but then I heard Sebastian's voice in my head and well... Here we are;)

“Hey FRIDAY? Who all from the team is in the compound?” Y/N shouted from Tony’s lab where she was working on a new piece of equipment for her uniform. 

“Everyone is out either on a mission or off the compound premises for personal business,” the AI responded. “However, Sergeant Barnes is in the living room reading.” 

“He works. Can you ask him to come down here?” she continued, never breaking from her computer screen she was typing away on in front of her.

“Of course,” FRIDAY responded before going quiet for a minute and speaking back up. “He seemed rather confused by the request, but he’s on his way.”

“Always paranoid that one,” Y/N mumbled before shouting a thank you and going back to typing a storm. 

A few minutes later, Bucky cautiously peaked through the glass doors to the lab and saw Y/N completely entranced in whatever she was working on in front of her. She was typing and scanning the screen quickly and then immediately turning to a notebook beside her to write whatever it was down. 

“Why are you calling me down here out of all people?” he said almost concerned. 

“Because everyone else is either fighting bad guys or off away from the compound doing their own thing,” she responded, finally breaking away from her computer screen upon hearing his voice. 

“Oh,” he nodded before looking around and hesitantly coming in more. 

He didn’t care to come down to Stark’s personal man cave much. Tony still threw sarcastic insults and passive jokes at him every once in a while even though they had made up and moved on. But it was Tony. He was kinda that way with everyone. Either way, they only really crossed paths if they absolutely needed too. 

“Here, come here for a second,” she waved him over, pushing back her chair as she stood up and stretched some. 

Bucky listened even though his face showed he was confused and hesitant about it all. It wasn’t Y/N either. They were actually good friends after all the missions and team dinner and movie nights of getting to know each other. They shared a lot in common. She was an old soul for a pretty young member of the crew and Bucky admired that. Because of her mannerisms and interest, they got a long rather quick. It made it easy for them to instantly click. 

“What are you doing?” he asked when he saw her raise her hands and projections of pieces of her suit for missions popped up in pieces in the air with what looked like notes and statistics floating around them. The blueprints for it all lit up in front of them without a screen to stay on. He may never get used to the advancement of technology because anytime he saw something new, something crazier would pop up soon after.

“I came up with some new little tricks for my suit. It’s not not a bad outfit, but there’s always something new that can be better and improved,” she shrugged, moving the pieces around in the air with her fingers. 

Oh yeah, and next to Tony and Banner, the woman could maneuver through almost any form of technology as if it was as easy as learning how to count to 10 on your fingers. 

“I only have the metal on the bottom of my boots, and it’s worked for this long. But, I feel like there’s ways I can discreetly add more throughout the suit without weighing it down, making it easier to maneuver when I’m airborne.”

Another note to know, Y/N was an enhanced. She had the ability to bend and manipulate any form of metal. So the metal that Tony had built into her shoes made it to where she could lift herself off ground level and fly. However, through trial and error, they noticed that they couldn’t really add it to many other places as it weighed her down and made fighting a lot less agile. Don’t get it wrong though. She made it work. She just preferred it to be better. 

“Sounds like a smart idea.” He paused in the silence as she continued to analyze the layout in front of her silently. “Did you just want company to show off that big brain of yours, or am I supposed to give you an opinion?” 

He was sassy with her. She was sassy back. It was the way of their friendship for the most part. 

“No, Barnes. I need you to give me your password,” she said, wrinkling her nose at him with a stink face before moving back to the computer. He chuckled at her facial expression and followed her to her setup. 

“Why do you need my password? You have your own account,” he questioned, watching as she went to log into the files under SHIELD's confidentials. 

“No, actually. Mine went caput last night,” she huffed. “Some weird glitch happened, don’t ask me how because you would think Stark tech is more advanced, but whatever caused it made my account go haywire. In saying that...” She clicked a few more things moving faster than Bucky could keep up with on the screen. Then she turned to him and leaned back on the counter. “Tony was supposed to make me a new one or fix it, but he bailed on me today for brunch with Pepper... In Capri.” She let out a big breath. “So until he gets back, I’m at a standstill getting the information I need to fix this.” The smile on her face showed she was done telling her story. 

“So you need my password to get confidential information?” he asked, crossing his arms and putting his weight onto one leg. “What kind of confidential stuff are we talking here because I don’t need Tony going through my history and asking me questions I can’t answer,” he pointed with raised eyebrows. 

“Highly doubt he cares or has the time to go through your history, Buck,” she laughed, turning back around and raising her hand with a swift motion bringing the chair to her without actually touching it. 

Bucky looked down at it as it moved and noticed the metal base of it. He was always shocked anytime she used her powers. For one, she was rather graceful with her own for the most part, so the act of watching her do it, was somewhat mesmerizing. But also, he was still trying to wrap his head around people born with abilities like that. Wanda really threw him for a loop the first time he met her. 

Shaking out his head and following to stand by where she was sitting, he argued with her statement. 

“Yeah, I’d think about that again,” he winced. “Out of all the people Tony is going to keep an extra eye on, who do you think it is?”

Y/N paused and turned to him scrunching her nose. 

“Ok, yeah you’re right,” she nodded. Bucky sent her a look in agreement. “But I promise it’s not for anything crazy. I just want to find a resource for the lightest metal we can get our hands on. I think if I can get some of that, I can place it throughout my suit to not weigh it down as much and make any hand to hand combat about 100x easier and more fluent.”

“Sounds like a solid plan. What file do you think is going to hold something like that?” he nodded, crossing his arms again and leaning his backside on the table facing her in her chair. 

“The same one that talks about vibranium,” she sassed some. “I just want to run some analytics to see my options on what will be most malleable for the suite. Some metals may be lighter, but that doesn’t always mean suitable for tons of kinesthetic motions.”

“You’re too smart for your own good,” he shook his head, smiling at her. 

“I know. I got the beauty and brains,” she smiled with a shrug, but she was playing around. Y/N was never one to boast about herself. She was as humble as Tony was egotistical. “Ok, enough small talk. What’s your password, Barnes?”

All that was left to do on the page she had pulled up was type in said password and she was in. 

“Uh, I don’t really want to say it outloud,” he said, becoming bashful all of a sudden. His arms tightening around him self consciously. 

“Why?” Y/N asked with a tilt of her head. “Scared I’ll remember it and hack your account? May just search for some things that Tony would love to tease you about.”

“Haha,” he said flatly. “And no. I know for a fact you would never do that. You’re too nice for that,” he responded. “It’s just. It’s an embarrassing password.”

“It can’t be that bad. Come on, just say it Mister so I can get my research done!” she persisted, poking his flesh arm. 

“Here, let me just type it,” he said, moving to the keyboard. 

“Nuh-uh,” she said moving the keyboard with a flick of her wrist out of his reach. Damn practically everything for having some form of metal in it. “I’m too intrigued now. I want to know what it is…” The mischievous gleam in her eye showed Bucky he probably wasn’t going to win this. 

“What happened to your sweet innocent self?” he said slightly shocked by her antics, but not able to hold back a chuckled. 

“It’s her off day today. She needed a break… And a little fun,” she smiled wider. “Come on. Just tell me. I promise I won’t make fun of you.”

“I don’t think you can keep that promise.”

“Have I ever not?” 

“I mean that one time when you promised to make chocolate chip pancakes because I was having a bad day, and then ditched me for a mission,” he noted. The fake hurt was exaggerated in his eyes. 

“Hey! I have no control over when something like that comes up,” she pointed at him. “You know that too on a personal level.”

“Still never got those pancakes though,” he said, letting out a disappointed sigh as he shook his head. 

“Ugh, fine. How about this?” she started, leaning back in her chair. “You tell me your password, and if I laugh then I go make you those famous pancakes now. If I don’t laugh, you have to drop that whole thing and not bring it up again.”

He weighed his options watching her. The two staring into each others eyes bargaining in silence. Sure Bucky didn’t want to say his password, but worse case scenario she laughed, maybe teased him a litt, but he got pancakes. And he knew she would laugh… 

“Fine. But just know, I like my pancakes with extra chocolate,” he sighed, relaxing his muscles some. “And whip cream.”

“Won’t need to. I’m tough enough to not react to whatever it is,” she smiled, bringing the keyboard back over. “Ok, so what is it?”

He stayed silent for a minute. God, he hated saying it outloud. Not that he really ever had to, but still. It was embarrassing. 

“It’s… It’s WienerSoldier1917,” he mumbled. 

“I’m sorry, what?” Y/N said with wider eyes. She heard him, but she was wondering if she heard him right. 

“The W and S are capitalized…” he practically whispered looking down. When he didn’t hear a response but insead deafening silence, he looked over seeing her biting her lip and trying her best to suppress a laugh. Her face became slightly red and her eyes started blinking fast as she tried to pull herself together. “Yeah, I’m definitely getting those pancakes,” he sighed with a shake of his head, not being able to hold back his own soft smile. 

Not even two seconds later, Y/N was in a laughing fit. Practically falling out of the chair. If Bucky hadn’t caught her when he did, she would have gone over the side and brought the chair down with her, but he casually kept the chair from tipping with one arm. 

“Oh, that’s just too good,” she finally got out after a few minutes of full on, stomach aching laughing. She wiped her eyes at the few tears that had come down and shook her head. “Is that seriously your password?”

“You know Tony came up with it! And he knows I don’t know how to change it!” Bucky defended.

“Oh, Tony. What a comedian…” Y/N sighed, catching her breath. “Ok, back to business.” She typed in the password not being able to hold back yet another round of laughs as she typed it out. Bucky just rubbed his temple as she went about her research and giggled. 

After pulling up a few things, she turned to him.

“Ok, I own you a batch of pancakes now,” she smiled, standing and organizing the desktop. “I’ll come back and finish up down here later.”

“You’re not even upset you laughed, are you?” Bucky said following her in step to the door. 

“Oh, I knew I was going to already with how you were acting. I also knew I was hungry and up for something sweet anyway,” she shrugged. “Win, win for me.”

“You’re a punk,” Bucky faked shock, nudging her shoulder with his own before opening the door for her. 

“Eh, like I said. Sweet-innocent Y/N, as you called her, has a day off,” she smiled up at him before wrapping her arm through his. “Hey, and after breakfast? I’ll show you how to change your password,” she looked up at him with a wink.

The two chuckling and talking as they walked upstairs arm and arm to the kitchen.

My Lovelies forever:

@natura1phenomenon​ @lauravicente​ @kakakatey​ @traceyaudette​ @notyourtypicalrose​  @laneygthememequeen​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​ @sandlee44​ @thorne93​ @thefaithfulwriter​ @marvelfansworld @essie1876​ @greyeyedsmile14​ @capsiclehan​​  @xostephanie​​ @averyrogers83​​ @awesomenursingstudent​​ @gh0stgurl​​ @cs-please​​ @carls1022​​ @jjlevin​​ @rainbowkisses31​​ @carls1022​​ @anise-d-castle6​​ @deannotmoose​​ @their-bibliophile​​ @kitkatd7​​ @willowbleedsonpaper​​ @mariaenchanted​​ @snffbeebee​​ @couldabeenamermaid​​ @rebekahdawkins​​ @alyispunk​​

Bucky Barnes Tags:

@chloe-skywalker​​​ @charmedbysarge​​​ @jbarness​​​

@bellamy-barnes​​​

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx​​​ @death-unbecomes-you​​​ @heyiamthatbitch​​​ @lizzymacy555​​​  @srrymydood​​​ @xa-dia​​​ @redhairedfeistynerd​​​ @morganclaire4​​​ @connie326​​​ @captain-asguard​​​ @mollygetssherlockcoffee​​​ @teenagedreams-bucky​​​ @shower-me-with-roses​

[nakamoto-aesthetics]

Guardian Angel | Johnny

synopsis: on the way from a friends house you bump into a man who was trying to harm you but luckily a guy named johnny saves you before you were taken. from there you get to know him a bit and things get… interesting. (the synopsis makes the story sound boing but i promise it’s not :)

pairing: johnny suh x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff, a lil smut

warning: something similar to human trafficking in the beginning (if you’re sensitive to that topic please don’t read this fic), heavy make out shesh, not proofread!, other than that there’s nothing i can think of

a/n: also remember that this is a FIC and not real life, please don’t welcome strangers into your home :))

word count: 4.1k

“where do you think you’re going in that cute little dress baby?” an unfamiliar voice is heard as you walk down the fairly dark street. you don’t say anything and continue to walk not paying any attention to the voice. there was no one else really around, barely any cars passing by, let alone people.

“I asked you a question, I expect an answer” the tone was firm, his footsteps getting faster and so do yours. you hurriedly pull out your phone, quickly forming a plan that involved some of your friends but that all crashed and burned once you saw the dead battery flashing on the screen. your heart sink and tears instantly pooled in your eyes, threatening to fall from your eyes. that was your only escape, what were you gonna do now?

you were just trying to get home that was all. maybe you should’ve let your friend drive you home but you didn’t because you didn’t want to cause your friend an inconvenience. you were beginning to regret that decision, all because of that small reason. at least you would’ve been home safe and sound but no, you decided to be the unselfish and independent person you are, and look where it got you.

“hey!” a hand grips your shoulder from behind and swings you around. “I asked you a question when I ask a question I expect an answer” the guy wasn’t a foreigner, he was most definitely korean. he seemed to be in his mid-30s, the age definitely showed. there were creases and wrinkles in some areas of his face and his clothes were all black including his shoes. you try to pull away from the grip but he only grips your shoulder harder, hurting you more than you would like to admit.

“maybe I need to refresh your short memory,” the guy chuckles lowly, his finger shifting your head up to meet his eyes. “where are you going in that cute little dress?” his eyes looked you up and down, his free hand gliding down your waist, slowly traveling to your ass. your face stayed straight the entire time even while tears fell down your face. you knew who had the upper hand power in the situation, you knew there was little you could do even if you didn’t dare say it aloud.

“still not talking? well maybe I should force it out of you huh?” he tilts his head. no, because the whole time you were creating a plan b in your head since plan a failed. there was no way you were going to allow yourself to be trafficked.

“well then, you made this choice for yourself. i’m sorry to do this sweetheart” his hands grope your ass and that's when you strike. you move your leg up to kick him in the balls but he’s faster than you, grabbing ahold of your leg before it collided with his area.

“is that what you were doing this whole time, creating that wack-ass plan? you didn’t think i’d see it coming that’s so cute,” he fake coos. “i’ve been doing this longer than you, i’m smarter and faster than you love” he throws down your leg and in the blink of an eye, you are turned around in his grip with an arm around your neck. your hand flies to his arm and you pull on it, not wanting to be choked to death.

“is there a problem over here miss?” another unfamiliar voice calls, making both you and the guy look over to where it came from. it was a tall guy with light brown hair. he had tan skin and different pieces of clothing put together that oddly worked. his eyes were a soft brown, not too harsh. he was… kinda cute if you were being honest. he was also In the process of taking his headphones out of his ears, for what reason? you didn’t know.

“there’s no problem here, keep on walking buddy” the male answered for you.

“I asked the lady not you” the new stranger spoke harshly to the trafficker and look at you once again. “are you okay?” he knitted his eyebrows. your eyes caught his, filling with tears, threatening to spill from your eyes. he nodded softly understanding how you were feeling through your eyes. he then looked at the male behind you.

“let her go, I don’t wanna hurt you” he said firmly.

“oh yeah, what can you do?” he looks him up and down and laughs at the guy, walking back to his original place, which was a block or two away.

“Im can do a lot” the stranger walks in front of you and the guy, making you both stop once again.

“listen man, this is my girlfriend. we’re just having a little disagreement aren’t we honey?” the guy tightens his hold around your neck. you open your mouth trying to suck in more air but his hold gets tighter. you tap on his arm in hopes that he’ll release you but he doesn’t. there was no way you were gonna agree with him.

the stranger doesn’t think furthermore and before either of you knew it, your head was being moved out the way carefully and a punch was thrown at the guy's face. you heard a crack of a bone and quickly moved away from the area, running out the man's hold.

it was like an action movie, the man was the villain and the stranger was the hero, and you were the one in need of help. the fight ended with the stranger still standing and the man now on the floor. he wasn’t moving but his chest was still rising and falling. he wasn’t dead although you weren’t sure what was gonna happen in the next few minutes but you weren’t gonna find out either.

“are you okay?” the stranger rushes over to you, sliding off his jacket and handing it to you.

“that won’t be necessary” you chuckle and wave your hand at his jacket.

“please, I insist” he places the jacket around you, not wanted to make you feel uncomfortable by touching you.

“thank you” you look down and smile softly.

“it’s no problem, I could never just walk by if I saw something like that” he smiles gently. “do you want me to walk you home? you know, to make sure you get there safe?”

“uhh… why not” you smile and begin to walk in the direction, he comes up beside you and walks along with you.

you pulled his jacket closer to your body for warmth as you kept your eyes glued to the sidewalk, scarred by what had just happened. you’ve never experienced something that traumatic before. you could’ve been snatched up a while ago if it hadn’t been for the guy walking beside you right now.

“thank you” your voice was quiet in a way it had never been before.

“anytime” he glances over to you, seeing your small frame wrapped in his jacket.

“I really do mean it, if you wouldn’t have been there I don’t know what I would've done”

“yeah, i’m glad I was there too. it hurts me to see things like that happen” he shakes his head. “I wish I could protect everyone around the world,” he breathily laughs. “that’s probably why I want to be a police officer” your ears perked up when you heard that. you looked up at him with surprised eyes and he looked at you nodding his head.

“it’s always been a dream of mine ever since I was a kid. when I read my first comic book I loved everything about it, I knew I wanted to be some kind of hero after that. I wanted my parents to buy me every single superhero costume so then I could feel like that character, with all the powers and stuff.” you breathily laugh at that, he notices and laughs with you. “anyways that’s enough about me, I wanna know about you” he looks attentively to you.

the conversation continues until you got home. you learned that his name was johnny and that he was 25. he grew up in his hometown chicago but his parents are both korean, and he moved to seoul for better job opportunities. you gotta admit, the guy was interesting and you wanted to know more about him, you thought he was pretty cool.

“so… this is it?” johnny stuffs his hands in his pockets and looks up at the house.

“yep” you look at the house and back to him. it got quiet for a few seconds, neither of you wanted to say bye to each other. johnny wanted to get to know you more and you wanted to know him more also.

“listen, I don’t know if the feeling is mutual but I wanna talk to you some more so how about this, I give my number and you get to choose if you want to text me” he offers and you instantly take it up. he smiles softly and enters his number in your phone. once you receive it back you see the name option blank.

“you’re not gonna name yourself?” you cock your eyebrow at him and he lightheartedly chuckles.

“I want you to have free will and set it as whatever you want. I want you to always feel like you have a choice when you're with me y/n” a smile was blatant on his face, allowing the corners of your mouth to pull up also.

“well thank you very much johnny,” you say, staring into his eyes, which seemed to catch the light from the streetlights in a way you’d never seen before. would it be weird to say that you wanted to get to know the sweet guy in front of you more?

“um.. i guess i should get going, it was nice meeting you y/n” his hypnotizing but kind eyes still staring into your soul. you never wanted to part away from them, from him. johnny was captivating, too captivating to let slip through your fingers.

“it was nice meeting you too. see you later johnny” you dismiss him yet his feet don’t move, they stay in place and so does he, looking at you with eyes of fondness. this continues for about a minute before you break the silence/slight sexual tension.

“uh- actually, do you wanna come in? i’m not going to sleep right away, honestly might have some trouble falling asleep” you shake your head, looking down and pretend to find your nails interesting.

“a-are you sure? i wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable-” he seems caught off guard by your words, obviously snapping him out of whatever trance he was in.

“not at all, now come on. i’ll put on a movie and get some food and drinks. it’ll be good” you smile brightly, grabbing his hand without thinking and taking him up to your front door. you unlock it quickly and turn on the lights, stepping into your clean house.

“this is a very nice environment you have y/n” he looks around staying still in his place, nodding his head, seeming genuinely impressed with it.

“thank you, it took a bit of work to get to this point” you chuckle, taking off your shoes and then his jacket. “oh, here you go” you hold the piece of heavy fabric out to him. he utters a ‘thanks’ once he sees it and takes it.

“you can put your shoes there” you point to the shoe rack beside to door. “and your jacket can go there” you point to the coat racket right next to the shoe rack. he doesn’t say anything and does as you say.

“now make yourself comfortable i’ll be right back” you point to the couch and then walk away but not before you caught his eyes. damn those eyes..

“now why did she do that? i swear horror movie characters are so fucking dumb” you roll your eyes and johnny laughs, agreeing with you.

“i mean what would you do in her position” you look at him. the light from the tv illuminating him perfectly. it was dark everywhere else so the only light you had was from the tv.

“i would’ve saved the friend and then booked it not stand there like an idiot waiting for someone to kill me” he looked at you right back, giving you that same look from earlier but his eyes were a bit brighter, filled with joy.

“exactly! so why can’t she do the same?” you sigh.

“y/n it’s just a movie” he chuckles.

“i know, i know but they really irritate me yk? like why stand there knowing damn well a killer is in the house with you i mean it’s-“

“alright it’s time to turn this off” he backs out of the movie, returning to the netflix screen where you started.

“hey!” you look at him with confused eyes.

“you were way too into it, it‘s not good for your blood pressure.” he says and looks at the tv, going through the comedy section.

you kept your eyes on him watching the way his eyes watch the screen attentively. you nibble on your lip, beginning to get lost in your thoughts. he could be your friend, best friend, boyfriend... husband- too far y/n, too far. you just met the guy but you felt like you’ve known him for a long time. you could see him being a potential boyfriend honestly. it’s been a while since you’ve had a boyfriend, really only focused on work. it wouldn’t be a bad idea. johnny seemed nice and he was interesting in a way nobody has been before, you could stay up talking to him and it wouldn’t get boring ever. what if you guys-

“y/n?” his head turns toward you and he catches you staring back at him with your lip between your teeth. he smiles softly and that’s when you are dragged out of your thoughts.

“here” you say out of nowhere making johnny laugh harder than before, his head is thrown back and his eyes are closed, filling the atmosphere with his beautiful laughs. meanwhile, you sat there a little confused and startled, blinking multiple times.

“huh?” you furrow your eyebrows.

“nothing” he waves his hands continuing to laugh.

“yah!” you hit his arm playfully. “i was lost in my thoughts im sorry” you look down feeling your cheeks heat up.

“while staring at me? what were you thinking about?” he says after his laughter dies down.

“uh.. nothing important, what did you pick?” you look at the tv trying to change the subject and you’re thankful that it works.

“that was a great movie, what’d you think?” johnny looks over to you and you nod tiredly, letting out a yawn. “oh somebody’s tired” he says and you don’t know if it was because you were tired but you thought it was cute.

“i enjoyed it and yes i am tired” you lazily chuckle and rub your face.

“alright, i’ll leave-“ he goes to stand up.

“no-“ you say abruptly and grab his wrist and his eyes shift down to your hold on him. “i mean… no you don’t have to, it’s late and i don’t want you going home at this time of night” you checked your phone with your free hand, completely forgetting about your grip on his wrist.

‘4:08 am’

“damn it’s four already?” your eyes bulge out your head and look up at him, his eyes still watching the way your skin was touching his. “you mister aren’t going anywhere, wouldn’t want anything to happen to you” you move closer to him and he notices this. you take your hand off his wrist and interlock your arms, resting your head on his shoulder. maybe it was the sleepiness that put you in this position but you didn’t mind it one bit, too tired to care.

he seemed surprised tensing up almost immediately but relaxing once he realized what was really happening. you were like the little bear that found comfort in the big bear. johnny brushed the extra pieces of hair out the way, how was it that he’d just met you but he felt so connected to you as if you were a lifelong friend he hadn’t seen in a long time. he didn’t under but at the same time, he didn’t want to understand it. he’d rather just let whatever this was flow at its own pace.

“do you think we’re moving too fast?” you say out of nowhere, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“i was just thinking about that and i think we should just let it happen naturally. whatever happens, happens” he says in a sweet voice and caresses your arm gently with his free hand. “if it feels right then act on it right? anyways, that’s the motto”

you move your head to look up at him and nod, intending to catch his eyes and you do. you’re only inches away from each other’s faces, eyes shifting from his eyes to his lips and so do his before either of you knew it your lips collided. johnny holding your jaw between his index and thumb. you wrap your hands around his neck and sit up slowly shifting onto his lap. your heart began to race as you kissed him deeper, johnny too, feeling his heart pumping with adrenaline, moving his hands down to your waist and gripping it. you moan softly against his lips as his hands travel inside your shirt. he felt like pure ecstasy against you. his touch, his lips, his words, everything him felt so good with you.

his hands then slid down to your hips and he gripped them, continuing to kiss you like no tomorrow. he pulls away from your lips, you following his lips for more, and he chuckles; before you knew it his lips were on your neck, pressing soft kisses to it making you moan softly. when his lips found your sweet spot he attacked it, leaving a dark red hickey in that place. you began to move your hips against his, hungry for some type of stimulation down there. his hands fly to your hips and he rests his head in the crook of your neck, letting out soft grunts.

you bite your lip and pull him up to kiss his neck, one of his hands rest on your shoulder. once you find his sweet spot you do as he did and leave a dark red hickey. you pull back and look at it proudly.

“an eye for an eye” you wink at him.

“yeah, yeah” he smiles and pulls your face closer, kissing you again, this time using a bit of tongue. you moan instantly, letting him win and he explores your mouth as your hands glide down his chest, you could feel all of the contours and lines of his muscles and abs, letting you know he was fit. which only made him sexier. your hands slip under his shirt and you explore the area. he was too hot for you to handle, you could pounce on him again even though you kind of already pounced on him. he’s just too hot.

you pulled away abruptly and he looked at you with a confused expression. you smirked and stood up, him still looking at you, obviously confused. he reached for your wrist but you pulled it away and before he could say anything, with the help of his thighs you got on your knees. his confused expression was now gone as he watched the scene unfold, his jeans were so tight against him and you knew that. his hard-on wasn’t small either, it was actually pretty big, you could still see his print though it was dark and you wanted to help him out so you teased him by gliding your fingers up his thighs and then teased his dick by running your finger up and down his hard-on.

“stop t-teasing” he breathily moans, watching your every move.

you smirked, looking up at him and unzipped his jeans.

did you guys fuck? no. just oral sex, that was all you guys agreed to. johnny thought it would be a bad idea to have sex during the initial meet. he said it would be best to give it at least a few weeks. he truly did wanna get to know you some more as did you and that’s why you were okay with not going that far.

you slept in your room after you guys were done giving each other head. you’d given him a blanket to sleep with and a comfortable pillow instead of making him use one of the uncomfortable decor ones on your couch.

“thank you johnny,” you said as he grabbed his coat. you let him stay for breakfast, that you and him cooked together. (he wasn’t going to let you cook it by yourself)

“for what? i should be thanking you. i had fun” he says as he puts his coat on.

“because i had fun too. the most i’ve had in a long time so thank you for that”

“it’s nothing really, i’m glad i could reflect some light on” he laughs and slips his shoes on.

“i hope we could do that again” you hint your fondness toward him.

“of course we can you just gotta let me know. i’m always free” he looks at you with that look once again and you can’t help but let it slip out.

“why do you keep looking at me like that, you’ve been giving me the same look since you met me” you say softly so then it doesn’t one out harsh and you know it doesn’t when he responds.

“because...” he moves closer to you which makes your heart skip a beat. “i actually like you y/n, and i mean it. you’re so different from other girls i’ve met. i’m not just another handsome guy to you. you take an interest in the things i say and the stories i tell you, not many girls do and i thank you for that alone. thank you for listening to me.” he moves even closer to you, grabbing your hands which makes your heart begin to race. “so when i look at you like this, i’m thanking you.” he doesn’t say anything after that continuing to stare deeply into your eyes.

you felt so drunk in the moment, hypnotized by his eyes and soft words. you could already feel how head over heels you were gonna be for this guy, that's if you guys kept it up, which you think you will. the chemistry was way too strong for either of you to let go of.

“thank you” you whisper and he nods gently not breaking eye contact. “you should get going, i wouldn’t want you to be late for work. you still gotta get home in time to change out of these clothes... do you need a ride or?”

“kind of... only if it’s not too much trouble” he answers.

“of course it’s not, come on” you quickly get your stuff on and take him home.

“this is it” he says and you stop the car once you’re in front of the house.

“okay, i’ll see you later” you look over to him and he’s already looking at you. nothing happens for a few seconds but then johnny leans over to you and kisses you. you sigh into the kiss and grab ahold of his neck and kiss him back as his hand rests on your neck, he kisses you just as deep as last night but before anything serious happens he pulls away and lets a ‘text me’ roll of his tongue before he exits the vehicle and walks to his front door, unlocking it and walking inside. all without looking back.

you however, were in complete awe. he kissed you like that and then left. damn was he a good kisser, you could still feel the sensation of his lips on yours even after he was gone. you touched your lips and then smiled, pulling off.

bonus: later that day; the evening

you decide to pick up your phone and do exactly what he said earlier.

you: what was that all about earlier? - y/n

johnny🥰😫: so you decided to finally text me😊

johnny🥰😫: and what was what about👀

you: you know what i talking about. the kiss in the car

johnny🥰😫: you know, it was just a see you later kiss

you: mhm, okay mr. suh

johnny🥰😫: what?😂

you: imma give your ass a ‘see you later’ kiss and then walk away. see how it makes you feel

johnny🥰😫: bring it on then sexy, let���s see what you got

you: oh i’ll show you what i got👀

johnny🥰😫: are we still talking about kissing?😳

you: maybe, maybe not🤷‍♀️👀

NCT Masterlist