#the person that is me is not allowed to be miserable anymore bc i don’t allow it anymore. stop treating this person like shit me!!!

[loverboybrightsideghost]

me when i remember that i am not afraid to keep on living i am not afraid to walk this world alone honey if you stay you’ll be forgiven nothing you can say can stop me going home 😼😼😼

[taylortruther]

sorry to vent but i honestly am just so damn tired atp of having to desperately cover everything in disclaimers and constantly perform outrage just to be allowed to exist in fandom spaces now as a black fan. like my original mindset was just that it’s disappointing but i don’t and can’t expect celebrities to perfectly mirror my values, and with all the actual problems in my life and the world - including racism that actually affects my real life AND things i have the ability to potentially do something about - i wasn’t going to spend my time and energy being furious that a pop star i’ll never meet is fucking an edgelord i’ll never meet either. like i’m sorry but i already compartmentalized all this YEARS ago and have zero expectations of celebrities so it’s just whatever to me. if taylor herself was spewing racist comments or if matty was actually some white supremacist nazi and not just an intentionally provocative edgy douchebag it would be different, but TO ME PERSONALLY the actual situation as it is is just not that serious and not worth my outrage.

but am i, one of those ‘poc fans’ everyone is constantly falling all over themselves to declare themselves supportive of and ‘safe’ for, allowed to feel that way as one of the people actually targeted by that idiot’s dumbass comments? NOPE! you best believe people were FURIOUS that i thought i could get away with not performing Angry Black Woman Rage for them every single time i want to simply engage in my hobby and discuss fun things, or analyze surprise songs, or express empathy for taylor in any circumstance, or just do anything that isn’t ranting 24/7 that she’s terrible and racist and irredeemable. so now every time i want to do any of those things i have to write 6000 disclaimers that yes taylor is awful and no i don’t like matty just so overwhelmingly white fans won’t yell at me that i’m not really black (an accusation i’ve now gotten three separate times), or that i’m hurting other poc by “condoning racism” (which i have not done), or that i’m so far up taylor’s ass i would still stan her even if she personally called me the n-word (the final straw that made me turn anon off probably for good) and idk it’s just…not fun being here anymore now that everyone is just going to treat me like a doll who’s only here for them to virtue signal with (and ‘virtue signaling’ is a terrible term but like that is truly, genuinely what a huge chunk of this fandom is doing rn), claiming to obsessively care about my feelings and fandom experience so they’ll look good but then berating and scolding me every single time i step a toe out of line and try to express my own opinion or commit the grave sin of Enjoying Taylor Swift On My Taylor Swift Blog. like sure taylor disappointed me but it’s other (again, overwhelmingly white) fans who have completely ruined being here and made it a miserable chore to be a black fan, not her. atp I just want her to drop him and everyone to forget not bc he sucks but bc i just want to be allowed to exist peacefully on my own blog again, without having to constantly walk on eggshells so the people who ~care about marginalized fans~ won’t come call me a stupid brainless bitch who lets taylor manipulate me because i’m a self-hating racist. i’m just so tired.

i am tired too and i am really grateful to you for writing all this out (i hope it felt a little cathartic) because i 100% AGREEEEEEEEEE. the way this fandom acts anytime they start talking about uplifting poc will never not be weird to me and i think you explained why perfectly.

[mollyrolls]

@anniewings the one i was thinking of was actually iron flame, not fourth wing

so iron flame spoilers below cut enjoy my insane good reads review

tldr: everyone in this book is infuriating. rebecca yarros needs to invest in an editor.

This book - and series in general- fascinates me. I was so motivated to finish reading, but while doing so I was borderline miserable. I need to go back and do some kind of formal analysis bc there’s something in her writing that must be crack adjacent. How in the ever loving god is it possible for her to create such an atmosphere and pull towards these books while filling them with grey slush that makes me brain bleed out my ears.

To Yarros’ credit, the problems I had with the war being boring were lessened. I did end up caring about the outcome, and read the fight scenes with some investment. Much improved from the first. I definitely think the choice to make the “true war” be a secret from everyone is a major shortcoming, (personally, I think that she didn’t know the wyvern and venin war was the true conflict until stumbling across it mid-writing and didn’t go back to properly edit,) as it leaves so much confusion in its wake. The least we could have gotten was a history class once the riders got to the outpost and caught them-and the readers- up to speed effectively. I think the reason why I cared this time was because it was the one central plot, which is a good thing. That being said, the things I enjoyed in the first did not improve the same way.

The most memorable disappointment was Violet and Xaden’s relationship. Xaden’s codependency is truly insane in this book, but I don’t think Yarros sees it that way. I never liked the miscommunication trope, but I like it even less when it’s the entire. fucking. book. Every scene with them is the exact same, just a different smut scene smacked dab in the middle of it forcing them to never reach a conclusion. The basis of the miscommunication is justified, but since Violet is insistent on backpedaling all her growth from the last book, it doesn’t stay justified for long. This relationship does not grow from start to about 85% of the way through, and then a hasty conclusion is met to have the twist ending hit harder. Also, the thing that makes Violet stop being an unrelenting asshole is arguably more egregious than the original fight! When you find out your boyfriend can literally read your mind? THATS WHEN YOU START BEEFING IT GIRL. I don’t think they really love each other anymore, because the chemistry they had has vanished into thin air, and that really makes me sad! I liked their dynamic in the first book a lot, even if it was painfully Feyre and Rhysand coded.

I know people have said that some of the background characters storylines should have been cut for lengths sake, but I honestly really liked the cast this time around. They’re more intriguing than Violet, that’s for damn sure. Rhiannon is way too good for violet. ridoc is my ride or die. tarin needs to THROW VIOLET OFF HIS BACK. I ended up liking the villains more than Violet (Cat, Sloane, Jack) because they were allowed to grow like normal people, not shoved back into the tiny cramped box with pencil holes to breathe every time we get even an inch close to having a development happen.

Despite grasping the concept of a central plot, somehow Iron Flame is more off-the-rails than Fourth Wing was. The pacing was truly incomprehensible, the plots were convoluted and messy, and the characters made me want to carve my eyes out with a rusty spoon. There is so much potential here but with the trend we’re headed in, I don’t think it will be fully realized. I can already see the Netflix Original now.

p.s. seriously someone enlighten me about her rhetoric because there has to be crack in there, right?

[caliboron]

I’m starting to think the only way out of this rut is to throw my phone in a river or something. I keep trying to think back to when I was a kid and what made me feel more alive like I’m actually a real person rather than a rotting lump on the couch who sleeps all day and well I wasn’t allowed unsupervised internet access until I was 14. I filled my time by drawing and playing with toys and watching cartoons and I was so lively for that. I need to stop this, I have to put down my damn phone, it’s becoming a serious problem because I just don’t feel alive I feel numb and miserable. I’ve had a beginner’s crochet kit that’s been collecting dust since Christmas. I have two tablets I could use for drawing, I have a powerful pc that can run games or play art tutorial videos I can follow along with. I have like 100 comic books, I don’t understand why I won’t DO anything at all. I don’t see my therapist anymore since I’m not currently her patient bc I never went back to her after I finished (was kicked out of) the dbt program I was in earlier this year. Someone please just slap me and shake me around so I get it together bc I’m so over living like this

[gurugirl]

Hey Guru! I hope I’m not bugging you. I need relationship advice. Have you ever heard of the American Pastor Steven Anderson. Well, I know his nephews. They go to school with me, or they went to school with me. Now they are going to Bob Jones University. Anyway, I really liked one of them. But then he said he didn't like catholics and wasn't allowed to talk to me anymore because his parents said they don't want him to have a relationship with a catholic. I’m really upset. I wish he would just talk to me. I wish there was any way to communicate with him. But the only way that will happen is if I see him in person. I am trying to convince my parents to let me go to BJU for college. But my parents do not really like how strict that school is. What are your thoughts on everything? They are really cute. I can send a pic if you want.

Ugh 😑 Okay so I had to look this pastor up and that college and hon… I cannot tell you what to do or what to believe but if you go to that college I would imagine you’d be miserable (I would be).

Not only are some of their rules very odd and concerning they seem to have been openly racist (based on their past policies) and they are forcing super conservative fundamentalist religious practices on their students and disciplinary action if you don’t comply. Girls are treated differently than the guys, aren’t allowed to wear pants (???????), and no dancing bc it’s sinful.

Girl… don’t do it. It’s not worth it. No guy is worth it. You’re young and you deserve a positive college experience and you’ll meet someone else who’s probably more on your wavelength. If these guys are going to BJU I wonder if they agree with some of the more problematic ideals and if so, if I were you, I wouldn’t want to have anything to do with these boys at all. That’s just me.

Also you could face expulsion for looking at this side of tumblr and reading fic if anyone found out ���

It sounds like you’d be in a prison 😵 I wouldn’t do it. I’d stay away from boys that liked/agreed with this kind of thing, which it sounds like they do after what he said about you being catholic. Even BJU made a post saying Catholicism is a cult so I have a feeling that boy believes that too.

I say stay as far away from that boy and that college as you can! Not worth it ❌

Xoxo

[himbos-hotline]

hey! while it’s disheartening and sucks to get hate comments, you should try to remember that the fics you write should be purely for your enjoyment. it’s stuff you like and want to share with the world, and some people find it and end up liking it a lot! you’d be surprised how many people probably read your fics and love it but don’t say anything bc they’re shy. unfortunately, there are a lot of hateful people on the internet and they will do anything to try and bring you down. you should try your best to ignore it (i know you probably don’t wanna hear this but it’s true). another way to get rid of hate is turn off anon on tumblr, if anyone sends you hate after then you can block them. you can also restrict comments on ao3. if you ever get a hate comment on ao3, you can also block or remove (i think) the comment. trust me, there are a lot of people who LOVE your work. just continue doing what you love. if you have haters, they’re most likely just jealous or miserable people. sorry for the long note, hope your day is good!

anon this is gonna sound really mean and I am PROMISING that it isnt, but I kinda just, need to reply to little bits of this message like were having a convo and im not arguing, im just..tired of being told the same thing [again not mad, clarifying stuff]

you should try to remember that the fics you write should be purely for your enjoyment

yes I know that, so is people baking or drawing. but if someone gets told "this cake kinda sucks." or "your drawing is wrong." they seem to be allowed to get upset but with writing its just "well youre writing for yourself!" Yeah, I know that and I am. But if I was writing for myself, I wouldnt be sharing it. People wouldnt be requesting it. if it was just for me. I wouldnt have an ao3 account. im writing for ME but im posting and sharing for other people, the people who ask for said fics, people who are my friends, people who like the ships, the fandom cuz fandoms simply do not exist without fanworks, not creations. were not getting paid for this. AT ALL! Like you cant do fic commissions cuz youre just sitting fanfic and fandom culture back YEARS AND YEAR.

I am writing for me, why do writers always get that? why is it never "but youre editing for yourself" or "youre making gifs for yourself" or "well you are drawing for you."

and end up liking it a lot! you’d be surprised how many people probably read your fics and love it but don’t say anything bc they’re shy.

Please get over that shyness. Thats what anons are for, thats for like guest comments are for on ao3. thats what reblogs and nice tags are for. thats for recommending fics on PUBLIC spaces, not discord servers youve made privately. Please tell fanfic authors that you like their fics, please leave comments and draw fanart or whatever you want to do just share it with us! because otherwise writers are going to feel unloved and lost and NOT write anymore and then fandom spaces will, im sorry die cuz the whole point of fandom is we inspire each other, we lift each other up!

im sorry for ranting back at you anon, this ask was really sweet but there was just points that I had to put out, things I had to say because it gets kinda draining being treated differently as a writer than say an artist. Its just like if I drew, like really instead of once or twice a year. People wouldnt be going "youre drawing for yourself." also just the weird diconnect between like, people who write and other people who are making things in fandoms is upsetting because it takes so much work, so much dedication.

like sometimes it feels like people forget that me personally, am disabled and chronically ill. Im currently fighting off pheumonia, ive just gotten out of a very abusive and manipulative relationship where him not liking my writing was a big way he would control what I would do. writing is harder than what it should be right now. But I do love writing, I adore getting requests and every nice comment I get I reguarly go back to read and it means so so so much

[ponderingthoughtsblog]

People deflect blame and get defensive when they know they did something wrong and get called out over it. They get blamey and name-call because they know deep down they can’t defend that behavior no matter how they spin it. They put words in other peoples mouths, send their attack dogs, and shift all blame to the one they hold responsible for their misery, which is almost always of their own making. I stand firm in the idea of being a victim, maybe not in the traditional sense, but I am a victim. 

I allowed a bully to hold power of me, bulldoze me until I was more her than me, make awful “jokes” at my expense, question my sexuality, and continue hurt me even when she doesn’t have a hold on me anymore. But no longer. 

I have all the people blocked that I could find that had even the smallest connection to her because I can no longer allow her any power over me and my life. Maybe I make a post about loving the people who have stuck around and loving my new life despite the challenges. You should be damn lucky I have enough self-worth, dignity, and empathy for you to keep your name in my mouth. I could shout from the rooftops all the ways you’ve hurt me and hurt people I love. I could tell everyone all the depraved things you do and say to and about other people. Bet your parents would love to know about all the hard core drugs you do, the premarital sex, the time you got arrested. And for your “attack dog” to even hint at the fact that I could out you to your family? Fuck all of you for that. Especially considering you’re the one who outed me to all of our friends freshman years and all got was a “ oops” 

I’m done being someone else’s scapegoat, the one who always got pushed around, had all the jokes made about her and how she was a “fake bisexual”. Fyi just because ya’ll never saw me kiss a woman, doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. Some people like to keep their private business private. And you’re mainly the reason I do, bc of how you made me feel like a slut, like a whore, like I was ugly and so lucky a man looked at me twice. Telling me the men and women I was interested in were ugly constantly. To the point were I got uncomfortable telling you anything. 

I may be far from perfect, but at least I can be honest about the kind of person I am, about the people I surround myself with, about the mistakes that I make. At least I can apologize, accept that I am human and make mistakes. At least I am not miserable, a problem of your own making, and constantly projecting that misery on everyone I am around. At least I have people around me that actually like me, that don’t constantly talk shit about me the way I do them. At least I’m happy, secure, thriving, moving on, and healing from the waste of space that you are. 

[romanarose]

Since one (1) person asked

I don’t generally do this but just for safety Ima TW sh scars

My first tattoo

“There’s no point being grown up if you can’t act childish sometimes” with Jelly babies, a quote from the 4th doctor from doctor who. V accurate for me I’m a goof

The ss enterprise

This was gonna be a half sleeve with all my space ships, but I got distracted with other tattoos 🫥 I’m not even that into Star Trek I just like next gen but people think I’m a huge fan 😂 oh well it’s a great tattoo

Tardis: self explanatory

Teddy bear: child abuse blue, the teel ribbon is sexual assault awareness. Named Chester after Chester Bennington of linkin park, a victim of both

On my foot:LISTEN. I joked to a friend about getting the loss meme tattooed, she said I wasn’t allowed. So I left her house and got it an hour later. It was supposed to be filled in but I couldn’t take the pain 😂

(For the one around my ankle bc for some reason it won’t let me place this below it) Impossible to get the whole thing but it wraps around my ankle and says “I was a cosmic kid in full costume dress” from Growing up, Bruce Springsteen. It fits bc 1. Springsteen 2. “Cosmic kid” I love my sci fi 3. Full costume dress” I have a tendency for dramatic clothing ☠️☠️

“To love another person is to see the face of God” from the musical Les Miserables. I was so far up the ass of the les mis fandom 2013-16, but it’s also important to me bc I’m a big lover, I love people, and it’s so true for me, I think there’s something special when you are surround by love, in all it’s forms.

Tryna take this without showing y’all my ass 😭😭 I like the show, but this is more inspired by the handmaids tale book

Yes, I know it’s supposed to be te, not to. I swear I checked the spelling a million times 😂😂 great tattoo artist, I just told him what I was going for, the color symbolism I needed and he just drew this up in like 10 minutes?!?!? Amazing.. fav tattoo

“How we survive is what makes us who we are” -survive, rise against. V special too me bc I used to wear a BUNCH of rubber braclets to cover my harm, and then the scars as I entered recovery. This tattoo I got when I decieddd I’d no longer be ashamed of my scars, and wouldn’t cover them anymore

Who wants to see my tattoos

[flowertot-s]

hi hi hello!! I love your art style, derek and edie look amazing!! please tell me everything about edie!! when did she start liking derek? how did she feel about the marriage pact? what’s her relationship with cove like? what did she do after high school? and any fun facts you wanna share!! :)

a total of One (1) person has asked abt my girl Edie so this means im allowed to go insane crazy. thats the rules soz babes

more info under the cut !

this is gonna start at step 2 bc thats where it’s more Interesting

during step 2, edie is an INCREDIBLY anxious girl; she got into an accident when she was 10 and became disabled, so she has to walk with crutches or a leg brace which makes her feel very insecure, mostly bc she would rather die than stand out at ALL

bc edie is so insecure she really latches on to basically anyone who gives her any form of attention, so when derek starts looking out for her n making sure she’s included in things, she IMMEDIATELY starts crushing on him. it’s different w cove, bc at first she had a crush on him too but realised it was more of an infatuation, mainly bc he was just someone new and interesting. cove has no idea about this, and she’ll take that secret with her to her grave. she almost hopes that by pushing her emotions down and ignoring them they’ll go away on their own - which obvs, they don’t. because of this insecurity, she finds herself really upset by derek’s marriage pact and denies it outright, mainly because at this point she doesn’t WANT to feel like she’s just an option for him when she’s spent so long being basically as in love as a 13 year old can be. 

after she turns 18 during step 3, she’s absolutely MISERABLE. she has no idea what she wants to do with the rest of her life and feels very pressured to follow Liz’s success. she’s drifted away from cove a little bit, but still considers him her friend; however, she does still stay in touch with derek, and he's basically her lifeline at this point bc he magically seems to understand what she’s going through. She does a bunch of crazy shit to her appearance, like getting tons of piercings, getting tattoos, and dyeing her hair, because if everything in her life is out of her control, she can at least control how other people perceive her. she did really well in school, but during her high school years it took more and more effort to keep her grades from slipping. 

between steps 3 and 4, she’s resolved to move to an entirely different country to start her whole life over from scratch. she studied law and criminology in England, rents her own place, gets in a few long term relationships, and nearly completely cuts contact with everyone she knew in Sunset Bird. while it worked for a while, she found herself feeling incredibly homesick and miserable. she hated to admit it, but she was lonely. once she graduated, she had no idea what she wanted to do with the rest of her life. she started a career as a clerk at a law office, hated it, and floated between a lot of different jobs while juggling a toxic relationship, loneliness, and post-grad study all at the same time. she decided that enough was enough, and reached out to derek for support; this is FINALLY where things start looking up for our girl. 

step 4 happens, she visits derek, and all of her feelings come rushing back all at once and it takes ALL of her effort to not immediately confess her love for him when she first sees him (because she’d just gotten out of her last relationship and didn’t want to rush into anything). but to hell with that, as soon as derek offers to have her live with him, she immediately accepts and they get into a relationship. she feels like she’s spent too much of her life taking things slowly because of her own insecurities, and she’s not gonna let them stand in the way of her happiness anymore. she and derek would get married pretty quickly, and edie really starts coming out of her shell towards the beginning of step 4. 

some other fun facts:

her favourite flavour of ice cream is mint chip

her star sign is scorpio

her love languages are acts of service and physical touch

her favourite movie series is lord of the rings

her mbti is ENTJ

she does eventually go on to repair her relationship with liz, though it takes some time

she and cove become closer friends again once she moves back to sunset bird

she sees mr suarez as her father figure

she got a hello kitty tramp stamp when she was drunk once and it’s still her favourite tattoo

she’s a GREAT storyteller

she’s dyed her hair every colour under the sun (her ends feel like STRAW at this point)

she’s a Pro GamerTM

I think career-wise she’d become an academic, as well as a college professor perhaps

thank u for reading this far ily

[watchmegetobsessed]

Hey Angel - Harry Styles

a/n: since i had so much time on my hand at work lately (not anymore unfortunately) i used it wisely and cooked up this PA themed fic bc i absolutely love this trope. it’s lengthy and kinda emotional? kinda, lol. hope you’ll like it and as always, feedback is much appreciated!!

warning: sexual content

word count: 11.5k

masterlist

Harry likes to pretend he is tall enough to comfortably rest his chin on the top of your head when he stands behind you, but that’s not true. He has to push himself a little to his tippy toes and push you down at the same time to fit his chin above you, his arms weighing down on your shoulders. You stopped arguing him that you need to push your hips forward when he does this so you don’t carry his whole weight.

“Tha’s rude, you do not have to do tha’!” he defended himself every time you brought up, so you just stopped.

Now as you watch the game of air hockey unfold in front of you, a half empty pint in your hand, you don’t even budge when you feel a chiseled chin resting on the top of your head, you push your hips forward without a second thought to shorten your height. You catch a glimpse of a tattooed forearm on your shoulder, Harry’s chest presses against your back gently.

He doesn’t stay in this position too long, it’s making it hard to drink so soon enough, he wraps his left arm around your shoulders, coming to stand next to you, sipping on his tequila on the rocks.

“Hey you,” you smile at him as he gives you a side look, a boyish smirk tugging on his pink lips. “Everything alright?”

“Everything is fine.”

“You need something? How much have you had to drink?” you ask furrowing your eyebrows, looking down at his glass that was certainly full when you last saw him about ten minutes ago.

“Shush, stop pretending like you’re working,” he waves at your face, his words melting together, definitely thanks to the alcohol he has consumed tonight.

“I know I’m not working, I’m just tryna’ be your friend and look out for you.” Bringing your own drink up to your lips, you give him a look, but he just smirks at you playfully.

“Uh-huh, whatever. Don’t worry about me.”

“I always worry about you, H,” you sigh dramatically and it makes him laugh with his head falling back.

“Is this the part where you tell me I’m some spoiled brat celebrity you ‘ave to babysit for your living? And that I always do ridiculous shit so you ‘ave to keep an eye on me at all times?”

You can’t push your smile down at how far this statement is from reality. You just like to tease him about being a typical, asshole rockstar when he is literally your favorite person in the world without a doubt.

“Oh Angel, you can’t fool me,” he cackles, squeezing you to his side before taking another sip from his drink.

“Wouldn’t even try to,” you mumble with an amused smile. “Havin’ fun, birthday boy?” you ask, leaning into his side. You would never admit, but you love how touchy Harry can get sometimes, not really caring about physical boundaries, especially when he drinks. The hugs, the squeezes, the touches, they always make your heart flutter even after knowing him for years.

“I’m havin’ a blast. What about you?”

“What about me? It’s not my birthday,” you chuckle shortly.

“So what? I can’t make sure you’re enjoying your night?” he frowns at you dramatically that just makes you laugh.

“I’m having a great night. It’s just that my boss keeps coming after me even though I’m supposed to be off the clock.”

You peek up at him to see the grin on his face at your teasing. The dynamic between the two of you has been like this since day one. The constant bickering and teasing is what really brought the two of you close, you are so similar, it’s like you can see a male version of yourself when you look at him.

“Tell the dude to fuck off,” he mumbles into his drink and you bump your hip against him, but he just holds you tight to his side as an answer.

Soon enough, Harry joins the game and you watch him play from the side, obviously cheering on his opponent to annoy him, earning some pretty dirty looks from him whenever they score against him and you let out a “woho!” in victory.

“Y’know, it’s not too nice to cheer against the birthday boy, is it?” he calls you out when the table is taken by someone else and he joins you at the side again.

“Am I not allowed to choose who I want to cheer to?” you ask with a faked puzzled look and he presses his lips into a thin line, glaring down at you intently.

“Don’t test me, Angel,” he grumbles into your ear before walking off to join his friends who came out to celebrate with him today.

It’s a pretty lowkey celebration, since he is still in the middle of filming Don’t Worry Darling, so he couldn’t really travel far from the set, but some of his dearest friends were able to come here and celebrate with him and his cast members.

You stand at the bar and your eyes find him every time you scan the place, not able to keep your gaze away from him for too long, he just demands the attention. Or at least yours.

You’ve never met anyone like him. When you got the chance to be his personal assistant four years ago at the very beginning of his solo career, you never thought how he’ll move right into your heart and never leave it. Whether you look at him as your boss or your friend, you can’t deny that he changed your life and you’ve learned so much from him, you can only hope he thinks of you somewhat the same. However you always tell yourself: what could you possibly give for The Harry Styles? He has everything in the whole wide world.

Harry catches you staring and he arches a brow at you, abandoning the conversation he has been in for the past minutes, mouthing you “what’s up, Angel”, his accent thick even without hearing his voice.

He’s been calling you Angel for longer than you can remember. When you asked him why the nickname, he said it’s because One Direction’s song Hey Angel was written about you. It was a fat lie, you haven’t met him when the song was written, but his words still tightened your chest, playing with the thought of Harry writing a song about you.

As cheesy and cliché as it is, you fell for him faster than you’d like to admit. You tried to fight it for a while, convince yourself it’s just a silly crush, but you soon had to realize you outgrew that after the first few weeks working with him. How could you not fall for him? He is everything any woman could wish for and he has you wrapped around his fingers, just like he has half the female population, probably.

You shake your head in his way, not sure how to tell him you just got lost in your thoughts about him. In fact, he occupies your mind pretty much all the time, but he doesn’t have to know about that.

He excuses himself from the table and walks up to you, a slow breath leaving your nose as you watch him approach you.

“Tired?” he asks, stopping in front of you, placing his empty glass to the counter.

“Kinda,” you nod.

“Want to head home soon?”

“Don’t worry about me. I can just call a taxi and go home, you don’t have to come.”

“Don’t be silly, we go to the same place, obviously we’re gonna go home together.”

Since filming has started, Harry and you’ve been sharing a nice apartment near the set. It was his idea to rent a place for the two of you, rather than to stay at a hotel. At first you didn’t think it would be a good idea, but of course, he convinced you to live with him for the months while the movie is being filmed. So now you basically live with Harry, share pretty much all your living space with him, except your bedroom.

“But it’s your birthday, stay as long as you want,” you tell him, not wanting to snatch him away from his friends on his big day.

“We’re filming in the afternoon tomorrow, can’t drag the night too long either way,” he shrugs, trying to make you believe it’s really nothing.

No matter how badly you try to convince him to stay, he doesn’t bulge and starts saying goodbye within an hour, calling the two of you a car to take you home. He is clearly tipsy, but not drunk. Once you’re in the car, Harry’s hand finds yours and he pulls you closer in the backseat until your thighs are pressed together. He curls an arm around your shoulders, holding you tight to his side, sinking down in the seat. You let your head rest on his shoulder, enjoying the closeness of his body, pressing down any worrying thought that usually makes its way to your mind every time Harry gets a little cozier than the usual.

The rational side of your brain knows you should be keeping some distance from him for the sake of your own sanity and emotional health, but you just can’t. Denying these little moments from yourself would be like pure torture and your heart can’t take that for sure.

“What are you thinkin’ about?” he murmurs, his nose nuzzling into your hair and you just shrug your shoulders.

“Nothing,” you mumble your lie.

“Liar, I can hear the gears turning in that pretty head of yours,” he grins down at you as your eyes lock for a moment. Thank God for the darkness in the car, because you can feel your cheeks heating up. The last thing you need is for Harry to see how nervous he can make you feel with just a simple compliment.

“Stop being nosy, you don’t have to know everything all the time.” You poke his side with your elbow, it makes him jump a little before he snuggles back to your side.

“That’s not true, you know I’m entitled to hold every knowledge in the world.” He tries to hide his smirk, but he fails miserably and you just laugh at him with your head falling back to his shoulder.

“Harry Styles, you are something else,” you sigh shaking your head at him.

Arriving home Harry keeps an arm around you as you walk up to the front door, fishing your keys out of your bag since you’d bet Harry didn’t bring his. There’s a chance he hasn’t even used his copy since you’ve been here, he knows you always have yours and you haven’t really left without each other so far, always staying around the other.

“Want to shower first?” he hums, walking inside, his arm leaving your shoulders and though you feel lighter without the extra weight, you wish it was still there.

“Go for it, I’m gonna clean up the mess I made when I got ready earlier,” you tell him, heading into your bedroom where the floor is littered with half your wardrobe from earlier, when you were trying to figure out what to wear for the little outing.

Harry disappears in the shared bathroom and a moment later you hear the water running. You go around your room, picking up the dresses you voted against, placing them back into the wardrobe and then you put away your makeup you left on your bed in your hurry.

“Bathroom is yours!” Harry calls out just when you finish, you hear his bedroom door open and close so you grab a clean oversized t-shirt and a pair of cotton shorts before occupying the bathroom.

The warm shower feels nice, it’s been a long day since you started on set, Harry had a few scenes to film before you could leave in the afternoon. You wash away the day, scrub your makeup off and then take off the rest with your wipes once you’re out. You brush your hair and use some lotion for your dry skin before getting dressed and leaving the steamy bathroom.

Padding down the short hallway you hear nothing coming from Harry’s bedroom and you wonder if he’s already asleep, but once you step inside your room you see that he is cozied up on your bed, your covers pulled up to his naked chest, a pillow tucked under his head as he scrolls through his phone so shamelessly, as if it was his own room.

“Did you take the wrong turn in the hallway?” you ask with an arched eyebrow as you throw your dirty clothes to your temporary hamper, which is basically your emptied out suitcase.

“Nope,” he grins smugly, you have to roll your eyes at him. He locks his phone, dropping it to the side table, watching you move around, getting ready for bed and his eyes on your figure feel like they’re burning down on your skin.

“You know, it’s rude to stare,” you comment not even looking at him, but you just know he is still staring at you. Grabbing a hairtie from the little dresses in the corner of your room you reach back to loosely braid your hair, but his voice stops you.

“Wait,” he pleads and you furrow your eyebrows at him. “Can I do it?”

You give him a confused look as he pushes himself up into a sitting position, his green eyes are glimmering from the tiredness and the alcohol he has consumed tonight.

“You want to braid my hair?”

“Yeah,” he nods. You hesitate for a moment but join him on the bed at last, turning your back against him, giving him full control over your hair.

A shiver runs down your spine when you feel his fingers raking through your strands. He is so gentle and careful as you feel him section your hair off to three parts.

“Didn’t know you can braid,” you tell him, eyes fixated on the sheets in front of you.

“Gemma taught me, but I’m not the best at it.”

“So I’ll look atrocious?” you tease him smiling to yourself. He pokes the back of your neck with his fingers before continuing his work.

“You could never look atrocious, even if you tried.”

“And you are such a flirt,” you sigh. Over the years you’ve gotten used to his flirty act, it’s just who he is and though in the beginning your breath always got caught in your throat when he said something cheesy, now you just brush it off, only thinking about his words when you are alone in the night, struggling to fall asleep because you’re once again, thinking about him.

“M’telling the truth. Have I told you how beautiful you looked tonight?”

“Mmm,” you hum. He has told you that you looked pretty when the two of you left and he saw you walk out of your room in your black skinny jeans and flowy sheer top on, your hair loosely curled, but you didn’t really know what to say, so you just smiled at him and it’s the same now. You’re not the best at taking compliments.

“You really did. You always are.”

“And once again, you are such a flirt.”

“Complimenting a pretty woman is being a flirt?” he asks pretending to be offended as he carefully works on your hair and you wish you could see his focused face as he is trying to keep track of the sections between his fingers. At a lack of a witty comeback, you just shrug your shoulders, fumbling with your fingers on your lap.

You both fall silent as he concentrates on your hair and you manage to stop thinking, just focus on how his fingers keep brushing against your back every time he crosses two sections over each other.

“Hairtie, please,” he asks, his hand appearing next to you with his palm upwards. You place it in his hand and he finishes up his masterpiece. “There, it didn’t turn out as bad as I thought,” he comments once he is done. Reaching back you run your fingers over the braid and it feels good, he did a great job.

“Thanks,” you smile at him shyly, turning around. He leans back, making himself comfortable once again and you arch an eyebrow at him. “Need me to walk you back to your room, sir?”

“No, I’m perfectly fine here,” he grins smugly, tugging his arm behind his head as he takes up the right side of the bed.

“You’re planning to sleep here?”

“Please, don’t make me sleep alone on my birthday!” he pouts, giving you those damned puppy eyes. How could you ever say no to him?

“You better not push me off the bed in your sleep,” you mumble before getting under the covers.

You turn off the bedside lamp and the two of you start moving around, finding a comfortable pose to sleep in and you end up facing each other on your sides, Harry’s face squished into the pillow as his eyes are roaming over the hand you have laid between your faces.

His fingers start to inch towards yours until he hooks his pinky with yours, the touch sending a warm feeling down your spine.

“I hate sleeping alone,” he mumbles into the semi-darkness.

“Why?”

“Don’t you like it when there’s someone next to you? When you wake up and you’re not alone?”

“I like it, but I don’t hate sleeping alone either,” you tell him as your eyes fall to your linked pinky fingers. “Why do you hate it? You have the bed all to yourself, and there’s no chance of waking up to someone snoring or talking in their sleep.”

He huffs out a laugh as he buries his head deeper into the pillow.

“It makes me feel lonely. Which is ridiculous, because I’m never alone.”

“But lonely and alone are not the same, so it’s not ridiculous. You can feel lonely when you’re not alone.”

“I know,” he nods, his eyes watching your linked fingers intently, before he moves his hand so it’s now covering yours, his warm palm wrapping around your much smaller hand. “I’m never lonely with you, though.”

“So… you are only lonely when you’re sleeping or in the bathroom, because we basically spend every moment of the day together.” You smirk at him and see his dimple form in his cheek as he smiles at you nodding.

“That’s right. We are like glued together.”

“How aren’t we sick of each other already?”

“That’s never gonna happen.”

“You sure about that?” You raise your eyebrows at him with an amused smile, he is too sure about that answer.

“One hundred percent. You’re my favorite person.”

“Is that what you tell everyone?”

He gives you a look, but you just chuckle, sinking further into your pillow. His fingers start playing with your hand as he draws a deep breath.

“I only tell this to m’ mum and Gemma. No one else.”

Your heart starts racing at the thought of him seeing you on the same level as his closest family. You know how much his mum and sister mean to him, but you never thought you are anywhere near them in his eyes.

“You’re my favorite person too,” you whisper as your eyes meet over your joined hands. He smiles at you warmly, his floppy curls falling into his forehead and you want to run your fingers through them, feel how soft they are under your touch. Harry scoots closer, your faces only a few inches away from each other as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

For a moment you just watch him, thinking how good it feels to have him in your bed. How amazing it is to end the day with him so close to you. You wish all days would end like this, you wouldn’t have another bad day with him next to you.

Lying there and watching him slowly fall asleep, his hand still on yours, the bitter thought eats itself into your mind that he is only here because he feels lonely and wanted to be close to someone, not you particularly. And though you’re glad it’s you he ended up next to, you try not to get too accustomed to the feeling, because you’re just a temporary fix to his loneliness.

The door to Harry’s trailer opens and he walks in wearing his blue dress pants and crispy white dress shirt, fumbling with the top buttons to undo them. You glance up at him from your laptop where you’ve been working on his schedule for the upcoming weeks while he was filming.

“Hey, how did it go?” you ask as he places his water bottle to the vanity and then sits in the chair he spends his mornings in while his hair is being styled and tattoos are covered.

“Good. Messed up only a few times. Whacha’ working on?”

“Just your schedule, I’ll email it to you when I’m done, though you never check it.”

“Hey, I do check it! I like your color coding. I just suck at using it and you’re always here to remind me of the important stuff.”

You roll your eyes, continuing to type away on your keyboard as he moves around, having a snack and texting back people.

“Florence is coming over for a little after we’re done. We can order something,” he speaks up grabbing your attention again.

“Cool,” you nod with a small smile. “Is she staying the night?”

“No, we just thought it would be nice to hang out a little without dressed like this,” he chuckles looking down at himself.

“What’s wrong with Jack’s clothes? You look neat.”

“Do I?” he cocks an eyebrow cheekily, placing his hands to his hips as he looks down at you.

“Yeah. It’s a nice change after all the grandpa clothes,” you tease him and he gasps pretending to be offended at your words, though you both know you have nothing against his style. In fact, you love how he just wears whatever he wants, not caring what others would think.

“Watch your mouth or you can’t wear my bode jacket again,” he warns you holding up his pointing finger, shaking it at you, but you just chuckle at him, finishing up what you’ve been working on before shutting the laptop down.

“How long until you’re done?”

“Just a few more scenes. I think we can leave in about two hours.”

“Alright.”

“You done working?”

“Mhm, for now.”

“Come and watch the filming. You’re always so hidden in here.”

“Because I always have work to do,” you point out, putting the laptop to the side from your lap.

“Yeah, but you’re done now, so come out and watch me be the next Leonardo DiCaprio,” he smugly tells you, and it makes you roll your eyes at him.

“You’re so humble, H. Is something that comes with the age?” you tease him standing up from the small sofa, grabbing your phone from the table.

“You’ll find out in a year,” he smirks back as you follow him out of the trailer, back to the set.

Later that day you, Florence and Harry are chilling back at your apartment, munching on the pizza you ordered, watching some documentary on Netflix, just enjoying a lazy evening. You’ve become quite close with Florence, her personality is a lot like yours so you got along well from the beginning, the three of you often do things together outside of set.

You and Harry are sharing the couch while Florence is curled up on the loveseat. The temperature at the apartment is always nice, but you often catch yourself feeling a little cold in the evening, but it has more to do with the tiredness rather than with the heating of the place. When you pull your legs underneath you to warm your feet, Harry notices the action and knows right away that you’re starting to feel cold as always. Reaching down he grabs a blanket from the basket next to the couch and he wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer to him.

“Come ‘ere,” he mumbles, draping the blanket over the two of you. You shuffle closer to him, making yourself comfortable at his side as he makes sure you’re fully tugged in. Then he leaves an arm around you, his fingers gently grazing your shoulder as he turns his attention back at the movie.

Glancing over at Florence you see the puzzled look on her, but you ignore it biting into your bottom lip, turning back to watch the movie though you’re having a hard time focusing. All you can think about is Harry’s touch on you.

It’s almost midnight when Florence calls herself a taxi. Harry picks up the glasses you used and volunteers to wash them, leaving you and Florence alone in the living room.

“So, what’s up with you and Harry?” she questions right away without beating around the bush.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you two has always been close, but now… it seems all too… couple-like.” She narrows her eyes at you, hands on her hips, looking like a mother questioning her daughter.

“Don’t be silly.”

“I’m not,” she scoffs. Then you pretend to be busy with folding the blanket, but you can feel her intent stare on you before she speaks up again. “You like him, don’t you?”

“What?” you huff with a not too Oscar-worthy expression on your face that was supposed to hide the panic in you. “Well of course I like him, he is my friend and boss.”

“But not just like that. You like like him.”

“Florence,” you sigh, just when Harry walks out of the kitchen, oblivious to the conversation that he just interrupted.

“You sure you don’t want to spend the night?” he politely asks her, but she just shakes her head.

“I’m not really up for spending the night on the couch.”

“You wouldn’t have to, you can sleep in my bed,” he simply offers and something is telling you he shouldn’t open his mouth again.

“You’re not taking the couch because of me.”

“I wouldn’t, I usually sleep at Y/N’s,” he states as if it was nothing, but you instantly freeze.

Yes, ever since his birthday he has spent way more nights in your bed than in his own, always raving to you how well he can sleep when you’re next to him and you couldn’t bear the thought of him feeling lonely, so you’ve been letting him occupy half of your bed through the nights. He usually holds your hand falling asleep and then you wake up tangled together, sometimes he is cuddling you from behind, other times you’re the one curled up to his side. He treats it so casually, like it really is nothing, he just always goes on his day when you wake up so you decided to not make it into a big deal either.

Florence gives you a wide eyed look that you try hard to ignore, while Harry is so oblivious to what he just caused with his statement.

“I uhh—thanks but I’m fine going home. Besides, I think my car is already here. See you guys on set tomorrow. Y/N?” she calls out walking towards the front door.

“Hm?”

“We’ll talk later,” she tells you and it’s a strong message that she won’t just leave it at that.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” you nod awkwardly, waving her goodbye.

You and Harry clean up together and as always, he is the first one to use the bathroom and by the time you’re done, he is in your bed, waiting for you to join him. You don’t comment on his presence anymore, part of you afraid he would stop spending the night in your bed and you definitely don’t want that. Not much is left from filming, meaning that soon you are forced to go home where you and Harry do not live at the same place so you’re gonna have to sleep alone, like you did before. Only now you are way too hooked on the feeling of having him in your bed, even if it’s not in the way you truly want, it’s better than nothing.

The moment you get under the sheets, Harry reaches out and pulls you to his side. He hasn’t done this often when you went to sleep, only sneaking some small touches, but you don’t mind him being a little extra clingy.

“Filming is almost over,” you mumble into his chest, your hand lazily resting where his ribcage ends in his chest.

“Mhm.” There’s a short silence before he speaks up again. “What about it, Angel?”

“It’s just that it’s going to be weird going home. I got used to living here.” It’s your way saying that you’re gonna miss having him around all the time, but you’re not sure if he understands the hint. It doesn’t really matter anyway.

“You like cramped together with me?” he chuckles lowly.

“Was kinda nice,” you smile.

“Remember how you threatened me to throw my shit out if I leave my dirty clothes on the floor?”

“I do,” you smirk, thinking back to the conversation where you agreed to live with him while he is filming. “Didn’t find any clothes on the floor, so you get an A for that.”

“Wow, was this… a compliment?”

“Shut up, I always compliment you!” you laugh smacking his chest gently.

“Oh, no. You don’t compliment, you just tell me when I managed not to fuck something up,” he corrects you and your cheeks are heating up about how well he knows you.

“Those are compliments in my book, don’t be greedy.”

“M’not. I love how grounded you keep me with treating me like this.”

“Like what?” you ask furrowing your eyebrows.

“Like a normal person. With you, I don’t have to be afraid that I earn something because of who I am. You give no shit about my name, you always keep me in check and I appreciate that.”

“Can’t let you have a too big of a head,” you smirk, closing your eyes. He laughs with you, squeezing you a little before you both fall into silence, drifting off to sleep in each other’s arms.

You’ve managed to avoid Florence in the past few days. Her burning look has been making you way too nervous, you know she wants to know more about what’s going on between you and Harry, but truth to be told, you have no idea what to tell her.

Yeah, I’m definitely in love with him and we’ve been sharing a bed for a few weeks because he feels lonely alone at night, so he uses me to ease the feeling while I just let him because as I said, I’m in love with the man.

No, you can’t tell her that.

Now there’s only two days left from filming, meaning that only two more nights to spend with Harry and it’s making you a nervous wreck to think about sleeping alone in your bedroom.

You round the corner in the maze of the trailers after a phone call you had with Jeff when you run out of luck and bump right into Florence.

“I’ve been looking for you, Y/N. Come have lunch with me in my trailer,” she smiles sweetly, grabbing you by your hand so you can’t escape her this time.

“Oh I wanted to call—“

“Do it later,” she simply cuts you off.

Soon, you find yourself in her trailer as she eats her burger while she eyes you with suspicion.

“So, you and Harry sleep together?”

“Well, not like that. We really just sleep in the same bed.”

“Oh, makes perfect sense, sleeping in the same bed as your boss. Very casual.”

“Don’t make it sound so weird,” you frown at her words. You definitely don’t see Harry as your boss. You do work for him, but it never felt like he stands anywhere above you, the two of you have always been equal even before you became close friends.

“You gotta admit it’s pretty unusual,” she points out and you just look away from her. “So let’s talk about how you’re in love with him.”

“What? I never said that!” you protest, but she just gives you a look that says ‘cut the crap, girl’ and you know there’s no use to try to trick her, she sees right through you. “Don’t fucking look at me like that, I have enough shit on my plate without your judgment.”

“Oh, I’m not judging you. I’m just wondering why you two are not together already.”

You practically snort at her statement, finding it quite absurd and ridiculous.

“What? You two are perfect for each other and I’m pretty sure Harry loves you too.”

“Yeah, as a friend.”

“That’s not how friends act, Y/N. He wouldn’t beg himself into your bed every night if he was just your friend.”

“He is just lonely. He doesn’t need me, just someone to be with him.”

“That’s bullshit,” she scoffs. “You two are just being idiots.” Just as you are about to answer, your phone starts ringing. Harry’s smiley face appears on the screen, making you extremely nervous because of the conversation you are having with Florence.

“Hey,” you breathe out answering the call.

“Hey, where are you?”

“Just, talking with Florence. What’s up?”

“I got an email from Jeff and I have some questions.”

“I’ll be there in a sec.”

“Thank you Angel,” he hums before ending the call.

“I gotta go. Please don’t… bring any of this up for Harry,” you ask Florence, heading to the exit.

“You’ve gotta sort your shit out. This is not ideal, Y/N.”

“I know it,” you growl under your breath, leaving the trailer. You chew on your bottom lip nervously as you march back to Harry’s trailer. You feel so confused and anxious about this whole situation and the worst thing is that you have no idea what to do about it. Telling him how you feel seems like a stupid idea, but mostly because you’re terrified of rejection. What if it all meant nothing to him? If you were right and he is just lonely and uses you to help himself, it has nothing to do with you. You wouldn’t survive the heartbreak it would give you if he told you he doesn’t see you more than just a friend.

As you walk into his trailer he is sitting on the sofa with his phone in his hands. He glances up at you, a warm smile tugging on his lips as you take a deep breath, feeling very much out of place suddenly. Unfortunately, he immediately senses your discomfort.

“Everything alright, Angel?”

Angel. This nickname could make your knees go weak in a heartbeat and you hate how much effect it has on you. Especially in this state of mind you’re currently in.

“I just…” You shake your head shutting your eyes. “Why do you keep calling me that?” you ask, sounding way more desperate than you intended to. Harry puts his phone aside, looking a little puzzled at your sudden weird act, but he seems more worried for you.

“I, uhh—“

“And don’t tell me it’s because Hey Angel is about me. We didn’t know each other back then.”

You have no idea where this is coming from or why you even questioned him about it all of a sudden, but Florence just totally threw you off with what she just said. Harry stares back at you, probably vigorously looking for the reason why you are acting up now, but luckily, he doesn’t try to turn it into a joke as always.

“I call you Angel, because you remind me of the song. It wasn’t written about you, but the lyrics match up with… you.”

“What?” you ask in confusion.

“I wish I could be more like you, do you wish you could be more like me?” he quotes the song, not singing the words, simply just talking them as he stares back at you. “I see you at the bar, at the edge of my bed, backseat of my car, in the back of my head,” he continues and you feel your throat doing dry just from the way he softly speaks, standing only a few feet away from you. “I come alive when I hear your voice, it’s a beautiful sound, it’s a beautiful noise.”

You never really gave it another thought, but now that he has told you this, it hit you hard in the chest. You weren’t expecting, especially because those lines are rather meaningful, to you at least.

“I thought of it once not long after we first met and thought calling you Angel would suit you. Do you mind it? I can just… stop calling you that if you don’t like it.”

You shake your head. You never want him to stop calling you that even if it’s not that meaningful for him. If it’s just some game. It’s great to know that something reminded him of you.

“No, it’s… it’s alright.” Your voice is small, barely more than just a whisper. It’s a little too much at once. Florence’s words are still stuck in your head, and what he just said has felt like he just gripped your heart even if he doesn’t know.

You take a shaky breath, forcing yourself to come back from this hazy state of mind.

“So, what about that email?”

“You alright?” Reaching forward he takes your hand and you try not to flinch at his touch, just smile at him nodding.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” He squeezes your hand before dropping it and he luckily doesn’t ask any more questions.

 You stay oddly quiet for the rest of the day and Harry surely knows something is wrong, but he respects you enough not to bug you about it any longer. He just stays close to you as much as he can, trying his best to take your mind off of whatever keeps you occupied.

On the way home you and Harry drop by a supermarket, buy some quick dinner, not wanting to stack the fridge when you’re leaving so soon. Then you sit in the living room, eating and watching some random movie that’s on TV. You snuggle to his side on the couch naturally, he doesn’t even have to pull you close this time. The thought of having left only one more night in the apartment makes you want to sue every little moment you have left in this bubble.

Harry makes you have a shower first tonight and when you come out from the bathroom, your bed is already nicely made, inviting you warmly. He is quick to finish with his shower and joins you in bed barely five minutes later. You move towards each other instantly, his arms curling around your form soothingly as you make yourself comfortable, melted into his embrace. You feel his lips pressing against your forehead and you almost start crying at the small action.

“Angel, I don’t know what has upset you, but I’m here for you, alright? You’re not alone,” he murmurs softly.

“I know,” you whisper. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me. I would do anything for you, just like you do so much for me. You’ve got me.”

I wish, you think to yourself. You have him, but not the way you’ve been desiring. His hand moves to cup your face as he lifts your head so you are looking into his eyes in the darkened room, but there’s enough light coming through the window that you see his features. He runs his thumb across your cheek, gently caressing your skin and everywhere he touches you, it feels like your body is in flames. This something has been building up inside you and now you’re not sure how long you’ll be able to control yourself. And just as you think about how you really should put some distance between the two of you so you won’t regret it later, the unexpected happens.

Harry pulls you up just enough so when he moves his head he is able to place his lips on yours, kissing you out of the blue. His lips feel so soft, so fitting on your mouth, you let out a whimper when he goes further than just a gentle kiss, taking your bottom lip between his properly. It’s an out of world experience, you’ve imagined it so many times, but you never thought it would actually happen and now that it is very much happening, your whole mind goes blank and for a split second… everything feels right. You kiss him back with fever and with each passing moment the kiss grows more passionate and way hungrier than how it started. Harry’s arm tightens around you, almost pulling you on top of him and you can’t make yourself stop, not that you want to.

With a little force, Harry pushes the two of you around so now you’re lying on the mattress and he holds himself up above you, his lips never disconnecting from yours. He licks into your mouth, pulling and tugging on your lips, making your whole body go weak just for him.

But then, as if reality hit you in the head, you realize what’s happening.

“Harry,” you gasp pulling back, gasping for air. “This—We…”

“Angel, let me take care of you. Please,” he begs out of breath.

“What…”

“I want to make you feel good. I want to take care of you, please let me.” He sounds so desperate, like he would do anything for this and you are not strong enough to deny it from him.

It’s just his pity. He’s been using you for his needs, now he wants to give some back, it’s nothing more, you think to yourself. It can’t be more.

You lack the willpower to make a rational decision, so as you stare up into his eyes that appear so dark due to the lack of proper lighting, you just nod before he leans down and kisses you again.

He holds himself up on one arm while his free hand wanders down your body, touching you at places you have never felt him before. He palms your left breast, squeezing it gently and it makes you moan into his mouth before his hand moves down the curve of your waist until it reaches your sleeping shorts. Your body is burning for him and you can’t stop it from reacting to everything he does. You buckle your hips up when you feel his fingers gently graze along your pubic bone, even though you’re still fully clothed.

“What do you want me to do, Angel? I’ll do anything you want me to,” he pants between kisses as his hand moves to cup your heated core, making you moan again from the sensation of his touch there.

“I need you,” is all you manage to get out.

“I’m right here. You got me. What do you want me to do? Please, tell me, Angel,” he whines, forehead pressed against yours and his hips fall, pressing against your thigh, making you realize how excited he has gotten. His erection is hard under the fabric of his boxers, almost aching to be freed. There’s no way you can take any teasing or a long foreplay. You need him inside you now before you burst.

“Harry, I need you inside me. Please,” you whimper, almost cry, before he kisses you again, hard and demanding as he simply pushes your shorts down, revealing your naked sex since you don’t wear any underwear to bed. You grab the waistband of his boxers too and push it down until he can wiggle his legs out of them, leaving him completely naked in your bed while you still have a top covering your upper body, however he is quick to change that. He grabs the hem and starts pulling it off, your hands helping him so a few moments later you’re completely naked underneath him.

“Fuck, Angel,” he breathes out, his perfect, pink lips attacking the side of your throat, kissing and nibbling on the skin, going down to your breasts, giving the same amount of attention to both while you turn into jelly under his touch. lacing your fingers through his hair you cry out his name as you can feel him leaving a mark on your left breast, his tongue swirling against the spot he just completely destroyed before he brings himself back up so he can kiss you again and again with so much hunger, it’s hard to tell where you end and where he starts. Everything melts together and you’re such a mess in every possible way.

His hand gently reaches down between your legs and parts your shaking thighs before he cups you drenched pussy, his middle finger sliding between your folds, a shameless moan slipping from your mouth, right into his as your lips are still attached.

“So wet, I can’t wait to make you feel good, baby. Let me make you feel good.”

“Harry, just… please,” you pant, surely feeling yourself lose the last bits of your nerves.

“D’you have a condom?” he asks, head lifting up a bit so he can look into your eyes.

“I-In my, um, the makeup bag,” you try to explain gesturing towards your dresser where your makeup bag sits on top, two condoms somewhere inside it. Harry pecks your lips before pulling away from you, the lack of his weight on top of you making you shiver.

He digs into the bag until he finds what he’s been looking for, tearing the packaging open with his teeth and he rolls it on while he walks back, not wasting another moment. You cling onto him like a koala bear once he is back in bed, his massive body covering you again.

“Just tell me how you like it, I’ll do anything,” he mumbles against your shivering lips as he pushes the head in first, stopping for a second before the rest of his cock buries inside you, completely taking your breath away. He is bigger than anyone you’ve ever been with, filling up every inch of you, your walls stretching around him as he stills once he is all the way inside you.

This is it. This is the moment you’ve imagined oh so many times, feeling him the closest possible, his cock buried inside you, his cheek pressed against yours as he holds himself up on top of you. Years of yearning and endless nights when you imagined your hand was his… and now it’s your reality. And though you know it’s gonna change everything, you can’t tell yourself to stop.

Harry lifts his head, pecking your lips gently, calling you Angel over and over again as he starts moving, the friction between your legs growing with each thrust. He fits inside you so well, you won’t be able to enjoy sex with anyone else now that you’ve experienced it with Harry. All of a sudden, he has become the epitome of your whole life.

“Tell me what you want, Angel. Do you want me to go slow or fast? Tell me how to make you feel good.” His lips brush against yours with each word while you’re just trying to catch your breath, fingers digging into his back, the euphoria building up inside you gradually.

“A little faster,” you breathe out, speaking feels like a hard task at the moment. Harry picks his pace up, finding just the right rhythm that makes you wrap your legs around his waist so he can go even deeper with each thrust he makes.

“Look at me, Angel. Let me see your eyes,” he begs, his hand cupping your cheek. He runs his thumb along the line of your lower lip before he takes it between his lips, tugging on it gently, kissing you like you’re his last breath on Earth. He is devouring you, body melts together with yours, all your senses are strictly focused on him. He is all you see, hear, feel and taste.

Your gaze meets his and the way he looks at you, like you’re his whole entire world, it makes your eyes tear up. You want it to be true, you want it to be reality, you want it to be more than just about needs and satisfaction, but it’s not and your consciousness is not letting you believe otherwise.

“Oh Angel,” he softly hums, wiping away a tear that escaped the corner of your eye and ran down the side of your face. Keeping up his rhythm he kisses along your jawline, your cheek, your lips, the side of your face, the bridge of your nose, everywhere he can before returning to your lips with a hungry, passion filled kiss.

“Harry…” you whimper, holding your thighs tighter around his waist as you feel yourself nearing the edge.

“Let it go for me, Angel. I wanna see you feel good, cum for me,” he tells you, eyes never leaving yours as you are ready to burst underneath him.

“Harry, I-I need you!” The words fall from your lips as a desperate beg, arms wrapping around his torso tight, as if he could disappear from your embrace any moment.

“I’m right here, Angel. Right here,” he soothes you, kissing your lips sweetly as proof that he is not just a trick your mind is playing on you. “Are you close, baby? Are you gonna cum for me?”

“Yes! Yes!” you pant, losing control over your body and all your senses. It’s gonna be intense, you can tell and it hasn’t even started yet, you just know it’ll shake you to the core.

“Good girl. Let me make you feel good.” “So good,” you breathe out before Harry occupies your lips with his once again.

It doesn’t take long. He keeps thrusting in the perfect angle and it throws you right over the edge. Harry demands you look him in the eyes when your orgasm wash you over and the intensity of it all almost makes you cry again. You burst, lose yourself under him, screaming his name as if you were praying to all higher forces. In a way, you are, because for a moment you really think you completely vanish from this world.

Harry follows you just a few more thrusts later, falling out of his rhythm as he grunts and moans your name, face buried into the crook of your neck while you tug on his hair, the feeling of his soft locks between your fingers is like pure heaven.

He stills, but stays inside you as he looks up, his eyes filled with satisfaction and contentment as he cups your face again, kissing you long, taking his time with you.

As you come off your high and the clouds of euphoria clears off, reality sets in more painfully than ever. Your limbs are paralyzed and you feel like you are outside your own body, just watching everything happen as if you were a third person in the room. Harry rolls to the side, chest heaving wildly as he is trying to regulate himself. Once he is able to breathe without panting, he pecks your shoulder gently and makes a quick round to the bathroom. You hear water running and then his feet padding on the floor, but you can’t bring yourself to move, you just lie there, completely drained out. It doesn’t change even when Harry gently cleans you off with a damp washing cloth, throwing it to the side to take care of it in the morning. He pulls the covers over the two of you and scoops you into his arms. You manage to bring your arm up to his chest as your head rests on his shoulder. His fingers are dancing up and down your arm, his steady breathing keeping your overcrowded head grounded. And then… he starts singing so softly, it’s almost just a whisper.

“Hey Angel, oh, I wish I could be more like you. Do you wish you could be more like me?”

Your eyes shut close, the damn tears flooding again, but you keep your sobs drowned in your throat. Instead you force yourself to sleep and hope you live to see the morning, because you feel like your heart is about to give up on you.

 When you wake up, you genuinely feel like you’ve drunk through last night and now have the worst hangover. It’s like you’ve been hit on the head with a chair. You slowly come to your senses and realize that you’re completely naked in bed and there’s a body curled to your side, equally naked.

The shock sets in first because you realize, once again, that what happened last night wasn’t just a fever dream, it actually happened. And then you basically jump out of bed when you look at the small digital clock on the bedside and see that the two of you have ten minutes to leave if you don’t want to be late to the last day of filming.

“Harry! Harry get up!” you smack him, kicking the covers off and grabbing your top and shorts from the floor, quickly putting them on. The man in talk growls, just rolling to his back without even opening his eyes. “Harry damn it! We have ten minutes or you’ll be late!” you snap at him and it somewhat wakes him up. With furrowed eyebrows at puckered lips, he lifts his head up and looks around.

Those lips were kissing you last night.

“What?” he mumbles in confusion.

“We overslept, get up. We have… eight minutes left.”

“Shit,” he mumbles under his breath, finally getting out of bed, reaching for his boxers.

It’s a shitshow as the two of you try to get ready on time and though you are running just a few minutes late, the driver of the taxi manages to speed down the streets fast enough that you arrive to set just in time.

During the whole ride, you feel Harry’s burning eyes on you, but thank God, you get a call from Jeffrey the moment you get into the car and it lasts the whole ride so you don’t have to talk with him about what happened last night.

“Y/N,” he tries when you’re still on the phone and he is already done with hair and makeup, heading to set to start filming.

“What?” you mouth at him.

“Can we talk later?”

“I’m busy. Go, I’m sure they are waiting for you,” you whisper to him and he looks so disappointed, but he nods and walks away. Your heart breaks as you lower the phone. You have been out of the call for some time, just didn’t want to talk to him.

Quite frankly, you’re not ready to talk to him about what happened last night. You don’t want to hear him say that he was just trying to help you out last night, that it wasn’t anything serious, just some messing around. It was just two people trying not to feel lonely.

Walking back into his trailer you can feel your chest tightening, a sharp pain shooting right into your heart the more you think about him. It was a mistake, you shouldn’t have done it because you are the one with the feelings and now you are the one struggling with the consequences of your little get together.

The more you think about it, the worse it gets and you feel like you’re about to suffocate. You need to get out of here, there’s no way you can face him now.

It all happens so fast. Before you can even second guess your decision, you’re on your way back to the apartment to pack all your stuff and get on the first flight back home. You need to put distance between you and him, spending one more night in the same apartment would make you go nuts. So while Harry is filming, completely oblivious to what you’re doing, you pack up your room as fast as possible and head to the airport to hop on the plane that leaves at four pm.

With a racing heart you check all your baggage in and make it through security when Harry first calls you. At first, you want to ignore it, but then you find yourself swiping your thumb across the screen.

“Hey,” you shortly greet him.

“Hey, where are you? Have been looking for you everywhere.” “I um… I’m at the airport,” you answer and the silence on the other end is deafening for a moment.

“You are at the what?” he then snaps.

“I had a, um, kind of emergency, so I’m heading back home now. Sorry, I would have called you, but didn’t know when you’d be off set.”

“You fucking packed and left already? You’re really at the airport?” He is fuming, Raging. You can tell he is pacing in the trailer, vigorously running his fingers through his hair, ruining it without a care. You almost feel guilty, but then again, you just know facing him now would break you. You’ll get back to him when you’ve pulled your shit together.

“I am, calm down, alright? Not a big deal.” “You just left on our last day here without a fucking word! And when am I seeing you again?”

“I, uhh—I need to be home for a while, but you’ll be fine. I’ll stay in touch with you in email and text.”

“Fucking text? Email?” he is barking now. Good thing you are not there because it would be a disaster. “Y/N, you can’t be serious. We-we were supposed to talk. You can’t just fucking disappear like this.”

“We’ll talk, alright?”

“When?”

“Later,” you simply tell him at a loss for a better answer. Hopefully, never, you think to yourself, but don’t say it out loud.

“Okay, you’re not doing this. Don’t you dare get on a plane, I’m going to the airport right now. You’re not leaving.”

“Well, I am and you’re not coming here,” you clap back, but you can already hear him moving around, probably gathering his stuff so he can leave right away.

“Swear to God if you get on that plane, I’m—“ He cuts himself off, no idea what to really say and you just sigh, closing your eyes. People rush by you and as you glance at the big screen you see that your plane is boarding.

“Harry, just… it’ll be better like this, alright? You’ll be fine, I’ll see you… when I see you. Have fun on your last day on set.”

You end the call before he could get another word out and put it on airplane mode right away as you grab your backpack and head to your gate.

Using your time on the plane wisely, you put together a very detailed schedule for Harry so he knows everything about his next few weeks and you can minimize your contact with him. You even set up a bunch of reminders in his calendar so he won’t miss his appointments.

When you set feet on the ground again, you expect the distance between you and Harry to feel comforting and freeing, but it’s the opposite. An ache in your chest is getting heavier as you get yourself a taxi and head home, feeling more alone than ever in your life.

Your home doesn’t feel like a home. Not without that one person who could make any place your home, but you can’t see him right now, not until you learn how to exist around him without the urge to faint.

Going to bed alone is pure torture. Every moment you are waiting to hear Harry shuffling around in the apartment, you miss his little snorts when he is watching the TV, his singing coming from the shower, but most importantly, you miss having him so close to you in bed. Now that you’re lying on your own, your bed feels so cold, it brings you tears as reality sets in. You miss him. You miss him more than anything and you can’t imagine a time when it won’t hurt anymore.

The crying pushes you into a shallow slumber sometime in the middle of the night, however, you’re rudely shaken back to consciousness when you hear someone banging on your door like crazy, pushing the doorbell constantly.

“Jesus fuck,” you mumble with a grimace, pulling a hoodie on as you make your way to the door hazily, probably still half asleep because you open the door without checking who it is through the peephole and you end up staring up at none other than Harry. “What the—What are you doing here?” you breathe out, panic sets in fast and your hands start shaking at the sight of him.

Harry steps inside without invitation and closes the door behind him, a stern expression on his handsome face.

“Y/N, what the fuck were you thinking when you left like that?”

“I-I told you, it was an emergency.”

“What kind of emergency? Because I called your mom and sisters, they all said nothing happened in the family, so what could possibly happen that needed you here immediately?”

“I don’t have to explain shit to you.” Shaking your head you try to step back to put some distance between the two of you, but he doesn’t let you, taking a step forward at the same time.

“Well I think we have a lot to talk about after last night, don’t you think?”

“I don’t want to talk,” you shake your head biting into your bottom lip. This wasn’t supposed to happen, why couldn’t he just stay where he was? “How did you even get here so fast?”

“Left as soon as we wrapped.”

“Where are all your stuff?”

“Left everything there, I’ll just go back and pack it up, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that for a girl who genuinely hates any form of working out, you ran pretty fast from you today.”

Any other day you would have laughed at his comparison, but not today. You just stand there, chewing on the inside of your cheeks as you try to figure out what to do or say. You were not ready to face him so soon.

“What do you want me to say?” you ask desperately, throwing your hands into the air.

“Tell me what it meant for you,” he calmly answers and you want to shake him. How is he so peaceful?

“No,” you shake your head. “I’m not doing this to myself, okay? I need time, Harry.”

“For what?”

“So I can get myself over this, alright? I need time, I—fuck this,” you growl, feeling the tears flooding your eyes again. Damn it!

“Why the fuck do you want to get yourself over it?”

“Because it obviously didn’t mean the same thing to me as it meant to you!” you snap at him and he raises his eyebrows at you in a way that tells you “you’re stupid”.

“What do you think it meant to me?”

“Probably nothing,” you scoff rolling your eyes, but the anger that bursts from him quickly washes your attitude away.

“Fucking nothing? You think I would get on a fucking plane first thing after filming for ten hours straight just to come after you? You think I spent all my nights with you these past weeks because you mean nothing to me? You know, for a smart girl, you can be pretty dumb sometimes.”

You blink at him in utter confusion, his words knocked you off your feet. He exhales sharply, long fingers running through his messy curls as he tries his best to calm himself down. When he is finally breathing somewhat normally his wildly vibrant green eyes meet your widened stare.

“Y/N, I thought we were on the same page. What did you think it was all about?” he softly asks, seeing how shook you still are.

“I, uhh—I thought this was all just some kind of distraction. You said you were feeling lonely, I thought you were just… kind of using me. And then last night was you returning the favor.”

“Hell no,” he breathes out shaking his head as he steps closer and this time you don’t back away from him. You let his hands run down your arms until they find your hands. “I thought this was clear, but I’m gonna say it then. I’m in love with you, Y/N, have been for a long time, I was just being a pussy and didn’t know how you’d take it. But then, when you didn’t kick me out of your bed the first night we slept together, it got me hoping and it was all heading just the right direction. Then last night happened and I was so damn sure this would be our turning point but then…” He breathes out shakily again, as if the thought still upsets him. “When I called you and you said you were at the airport… I love you, Angel, but I was ready to murder you.”

You let out a faint chuckle, feeling the tears bubbling in your eyes.

“Why did you run away instead of talking to me? Did you not trust me?” he asks softly, a hand coming up to cup your jaw gently.

“I didn’t trust myself,” you admit weakly.

“Oh Angel…” Leaning down he kisses your forehead tenderly, his lips feel like soft feathers against your hot skin. “Do you need me to tell you again how in love I am with you or are you gonna believe me? You’re not planning to run away again, are you?” he teases you making you chuckle as you shake your head.

“I’m not gonna run away, but I would love to hear you say you love me again.”

“I love you. I love you so fucking much, Angel, don’t you ever think otherwise for a moment, okay?”

You nod, lips curling into your mouth as your teary eyes meet his green orbs.

“I love you too, Harry.”

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that,” he chuckles breathing out in relief and it makes you smile. “I would never just use you. Love you way too much for that, Angel. You are everything to me.”

“Wish I knew that earlier,” you mumble with a bitter chuckle. It would have saved you a lot of tears.

“I will never stop saying it to you.” His forehead rests against yours, noses touching as his arms curl around your frame, pulling you close to him until you’re pressed up against his hard chest. “Just out of curiosity, what were you thinking when I told you, you reminded me of Hey Angel? Because I think it pretty much gave me away, but apparently, I was wrong,” he chuckles lowly, pulling back a little so he can look you in the eyes.

“I honestly have no idea,” you admit with an awkward chuckle. “I just had a conversation with Florence before that where she called me out about my feelings for you and I was still kind of in shock. Probably took it as just your usual flirty behavior.”

“I’ll admit I do flirt some, but haven’t you realized it’s different with you?”

“I guess not.” “Angel, you are… something else,” he chuckles in disbelief before leaning down he finally presses his lips against yours. You giggle into his lips, arms wrapping around his neck as he lifts you up from the ground, twirling you around, a squeal slipping from your mouth.

“So, now you have to go back to pack your stuff?” you question, still wrapped into his arms completely and you don’t want to exist any other way. This is where you belong.

“Yeah. Had to chase down this Angel who thought she could run away from me.”

“So how are you planning to get to New York by four tomorrow when you’re still here and have to go back to pack? Have you checked the schedule I sent you? You’re not gonna make it.” You cock your head to the side with an arched brow.

“Did you just go back to full assistant mode right after we confessed our love for each other?”

“Someone has to be responsible and we both know it’s always me.”

“I’ll just hire someone to do it for me, I’ll leave to New York from here. Happy?” he grins at you as you nod.

“Very. Because this means you can stay the night here.”

“Seeing the fact that I literally have nowhere else to go, because even my house keys are in the suitcase I left back… I very much need to stay here for the night,” he points out.

“Good. Come on, my bed felt empty without you,” you giggle, pulling him towards your bedroom and he follows you eagerly.

“I can definitely help that.”

 Thank you for reading! Please like/reblog if you enjoyed!

[angelguk]

omg so i sent in an ask re angst jock jk n oc ! but then i also realized its highly possible these 2 break up at one point while in uni mostly bc of the "are we dating bc its convenient" kinda dilemma and then it just pushes them apart bc they think theyre losing theirselves while being in such a close relationship,,,cue save ur tears by theweeknd BUT i just know when they grow up a lil bit more, theyll end up together <3

here we go! (the beginning of the end....may be...)

didn’t include save your tears as the soundtrack but may haps for the follow-up :3

pairing: jock!jk and oc

warnings: angst, yes the break-up scene, jaykay being an ass (a very huge one motivated by his own insecurities and selfishness – translation: he’d rather break her heart and carry that weight than be the heartbroken one), chayoung is no longer Seed of Doubt but something else (still up for debate but she’s fairly nice here), not edited but hey atp that’s part of my branding (also i would like everyone to consider that oc is not the greatest gf ever like guys don’t hate jk alone!!)

soundtrack: bags, clairo + stay, gracie abrams + say you know, alina baraz

(titled — honeymoon fades)

Jeongguk’s contact name hasn’t lit up the screen of your phone for six days now and you haven’t seen his face for just as long. It’s weird to go from constant incessant  communication to complete and utter radio silence. Not a single meme deposited in your Instagram inbox, no random notification from his Twitter. Just silence, quiet brewing silence. 

It breaks two days later when Chayoung finds you coddled under your duvet, mouth stuffed with the saccharine sweetness of mint chocolate. (Jeongguk kept a stash of it at your place but who was around to eat it anymore apart from you?). 

“And why do you look like you live in a dumpster?” She’d hummed, ripping open the curtains you’d involuntarily welded shut. 

“Because that’s how I feel inside,” you’d retorted, pushing aside your laptop. The screen is stuck with an image of an idiotic character named Nabi kissing the spawn of Satan. You hope for her sake it works out. Chayoung had huffed at your response, fondly whacking your head with a stray pillow. 

“Well get over that feeling cause we’re going out tonight.” A declaration, the fierceness in her feline eyes a warning that you’re not allowed to even think of saying no. That doesn’t mean you hadn’t tried – sorrowful eyes and pouted lips as you begged her to spare you. But Chayoung is a force of nature, one that could easily wreak havoc on your delicateness. And she does though, with a string of comments that propels you out of the miserable burrow you’d dug up. 

“You’re killing everyone, you know?” She’d supplied, yanking open your closet. “You’re sulking, Jeongguk is shutting down. He’s said like five words since this whole...thing...you have going on.” 

You couldn’t help but scoff at that, toying with the corner of the large grey shirt donned on your body. Jeongguk’s shirt. One of his favourites actually. You’d thought about stealing it after spying it on his obsessively neat laundry pile, but after seeing your wandering eyes he’d given it to you instead. 

“He always does that,” you’d said after Chayoung had whipped her head in your direction, curved eyebrows perplexed. “I mean, shut down. It’s his emotional response to things that bother him. Complete detachment so it hurts less.”

She had just stared at you, a long meaningful look at left your skin prickled. 

“Huh.”

“What do you mean ‘huh’?��

A measured step forward, her body weight sinking into the edge of your mattress a moment later. “I mean, you know him so well.”

“Of course I do he’s my best-friend,” you’d said, indignation coating your words

“No–No you're not getting me. You know him. You know he wouldn’t make the move to reconcile–”

“But he should!”

“You told him to go away! He’s trying to listen to you even though he’s hurting!”

And maybe that was it, that simple implication that you were causing him pain that had you pausing, reviewing the things you’d said to him – the things you’d felt. 

“But,” a timid rebuttal, “I just–I just need him to show me that he cares.”

“He does,” Chayoung had returned. “So much. And he misses you. He’s probably just afraid that you don’t feel the same.”

“But I do! He knows this.”

“Does he?” A question in her eyes, one that you’re afraid you know the honest answer to. 

You say things and never mean them, he had said, eyes hard.

That had hurt you but perhaps he was right, there are things you hadn’t told him, feelings you hadn’t truly expressed. And Jeongguk had always been good to you, so understanding and caring, trying to fill the places were you lacked. Wasn’t he the one who planned the majority of your dates? Remembered all the important milestones of your relationship while you contributed the bare minimum. You hadn’t even told Chayoung about the surprise he had planned for your one-year anniversary, the shame of your own choice hanging heavy over your head. 

So that’s why you’re here, staring at the back of his head forlornly as the music drifts around you, flashing florescent lights bathing him a hazy glory. He hasn’t seen you yet (something you’re thankful for because oddly enough you feel sick to your stomach). It feels like you’re skating on thin ice, waiting for the impending crack to sound through your heart, ice water swallowing you whole immediately. Chayoung is the one who pushes you forward, gingerly plucking the idle drink from your hand, Jimin aiding her efforts with a soft smile your way. 

It’s time for you to try the way Jeongguk has, put aside that bumbling ego that oversees your actions and adopt the humility he’s always granted you.

“Go,” she murmurs. “He misses you.”

And God you hope he does because you’ve missed him too. 

Except the moment his honey eyes land on you you know he hasn’t.

“Jeongguk,” you mumble. Yoonoh is frozen beside him, concerned gaze flicking between your faces. Your own eyes are stuck on him, the shape of his nose, the curve of his lips, the subtle hint of the dimple in his cheeks. 

You’ve missed him, and it slips from your heart and brims in your eyes, vision blurry as your blink those stray tears back inside. 

“Hi,” you add, when his silence doesn’t break.

“I should probably go,” Yoonoh lets out, awkward words bumping into the wall of tension standing firm between you to. He settles a hand on Jeongguk’s shoulder, sending him a look that feels loaded. “See you guys later, right?”

You nod, finally noticing the lump clogging your throat. “Yeah, sure.” Jeongguk just hums, the edge of his cup caught between his lips. Yoonoh flees within seconds, leaving you to wade through this alone. 

“I–I know you’re not happy with me right now, but please, can we just talk?” He blinks at you, it feels like a premonition. “Please?”

“Okay.” The simple word fills you, like a hollow you weren’t aware of finally found the cure needed. 

“Okay,” a small smile on your lips. Jeongguk’s face is still unreadable. He guides you up and away from the deafening sound of the song bleeding from the speakers, into an empty room, the door closing behind him muting the music and giving way to the own pounding in your head. Nobody says anything for a second, both of you navigating this uncharted territory of animosity. Until Jeongguk sighs, melting into the bed at the centre of the room. You follow suit, allocating enough space between the two of you. You’ve ever had to do that before.

“You said you wanted to talk?” Jeongguk finally cuts through it, eyes unforgiving when he glances at you.

“I did! I do–Just Jeongguk,” you can’t help it drifting out. “I miss you.”

Nothing, not even a flicker in his eyes. He eyes shift to the floor instead. “Okay. I that what you wanted to say?”

“No–No not just that! I’ve missed you Jeongguk and I’m sorry. I’m sorry that i went off on you like that and I’m sorry I haven’t been the best towards you and I’m sorry that I’ve made you feel like I didn’t care about you–or made you feel like the things I said or did had no meaning behind them. Because they do–they do because I love you. I love you so so much and I’m sorry if I made it seem like otherwise.” You automatically extend out for him, hoping to grasp on his thing floating to fast away from you. Jeongguk shifts and you hand tumbles down to the empty space between you instead, halted by his hesitance. 

His head drops into his palms a second later, a broken exhale leaving his lips. The motion cause the silver bracelet on his wrist to slip down the length of his arm. It jolts something in you. Jeongguk had given you a matching one but you’d ripped it off after the last argument and hadn’t considered putting it back on. But Jeongguk was still wearing his. 

“Do you really?”

“What?” He’s staring at you know, doe eyes cloudy.

“Do you really love me?” There, that stupid evil vile question that you thought you had the answer to but the words vanish in your head the longer he looks at you.

“I do–what? What are you implying? Of course, I do.”

“Of course, you do,” Jeongguk echoes. His eyes turn to the window located over his shoulder. You can see his head working through something, and you’re suddenly terrified fingertips itching to wander through his curls and coax those thoughts from his head. 

“Jeongguk? What the hell are you talking about? Talk to me, please.”

He sighs again, at it feels like your heart splinters. A sudden shake of his head and Jeongguk twists back to face you, a silent tear falling down his cheek.

“You don’t love me.”

“Wh–What are you talking about? I do! And how can you decide my feelings for me?”

“No. You don’t love me the way you think you do–the way you should.” It feels like he’s saying it to more than you, like he’s saying it to himself. “Maybe this the wrong choice to make. You know. Maybe we shouldn’t have done this.”

You shatter just like that, shards on the floor as you stare him, this person that you thought you knew. And maybe the feeling is mutual because Jeongguk is staring at you in a similar way, searching for the courage to say the words you know lie in his heart. Like a loaded cannon, waiting for the match to strike and leave you lying in pieces. 

“I think we should break–"

“No,” you cut him off with an adamance that you didn’t know existed until right then. “No, you’re not gonna say that and we are not doing this.”

His eyes narrow then, jaw set. “This is not about ‘us’, I’m doing what’s right for me.”

“How is that right? Huh, Jeongguk? Don’t you care about this? Don’t you care about me?”

He looks away then, ignoring your questions, his throat stuck. 

“Jeongguk...” You reach out again, and he allows it, shoulders sinking with the weight of your hand on them. “Don’t you care about me?”

Another heavy exhale, his eyes blinking hard. “I do. And that’s why this won’t work, not the way it should at least. I really think we should end this, or at least reconsider the reasons why we’re together. You say you love me–you say you always have but really–really think about it. About me and us and what we are. I’m sorry, I really am but I just can’t do this anymore.”

He rises then, your outstretched hand tumbling down to the empty space he’d left behind. You can’t move it, can’t breathe, your heart hurtling out of your chest and onto the ground where it lies, fragmented beyond repair and bleeding bare. You glance up through tears, watch him open his mouth and then it and look away. 

“Do you mean it?” You finally ask, and his eyes snap to you. He knows what you’re saying. There’s a pause that stretches out for eternity, coloured by the sound of the ringing in your head.

“Maybe.” It cuts right through you, lodging itself deep with intent. And then you just have to nod, swallow the scream clawing at your throat. He murmurs one more apology before his feet carry him away, and you watch, forlorn as you burn his frame into your memory, as your whole world walks out the door.

[onlyswan]

adrenaline rush | jjk

→ pairing: jungkook x f!reader

→ genre: fluff, established relationship

→ warnings: emotional trauma / manipulation / abuse, gaslighting, alcohol abuse / dependence, depression, anxiety, nightmare, mention of physical assault bc jk is angry . pls lmk if i missed anything

→ word count: 3.2k

↳ gold rush | love rush | sugar rush | adrenaline rush | zest rush

summary: you don’t need to pretend, and jungkook’s face looks bewitching beneath the sun.

note: i tried to proofread but it’s difficult IM SO SORRY breaks down . i’m honestly more on writing poetry and prose but i’m having fun with this thank u to everyone being so sweet :]

~*~

endless epiphanies have been occuring on jungkook’s mind ever since you opened up about your past relationship and the aftermath of it. he found himself crying like a goddamn child. because you weren’t crying. you weren’t crying at all. you just nervously smiled at him during pauses you made to allow him to process your words. for fuck’s sake, you were picking off lint from his sweatpants. you tried your very best to be composed and help him understand all the things you’ve been longing share. and he thought you must’ve been exhausted all this time, picking up the broken shards of yourself all while trying to protect your progress.

“he was far above me in every sense. he made sure to make me feel that way. we were in a relationship, but somehow, he still felt untouchable. my life revolved around agonizing over how i can better myself to be worthy of him. it was all about him. he was so good at the start, you know? until he could only be bothered to show an effort when he needed something, and i gave and i gave without hesitation. i altered anything he didn’t like. because i thought i was the problem. that all of me would never be enough. i was so naive and stupid.”

jungkook is livid upon hearing about how you were treated. he can’t bear to imagine you at such a toxic situation where someone is finding amusement in watching you destroy yourself for them. you sincerely believed that you would never be enough. it absolutely makes him see red. he wants to beat the shit out of who made you feel this way. his eyebrows were furrowed, mouth in a seething light lipped frown. you took his trembling hands in yours in attempt to soothe him.

the sorrowful and begging look on your eyes encouraged him to gather himself. this isn’t about him. you’re unlocking chapters of your life filled with trauma, pain, and regrets because you trust him to know you entirely as a person. and so, he listened intently, with an open mind and heart. it’s the least i can do. to let you know that i’m here, and i’m here to stay.

“i became distant from my friends. they never liked him. i should’ve listened.” you smiled bitterly. “that’s what we all say in the end, don’t we? so stupid.” you shook your head. “at some point, i woke up and realized i was miserable. i couldn’t recognize myself anymore. i lost sight of what truly matters to me, and who i truly mattered to. i wanted an out. but he cried and he begged. and then i thought, maybe he finally loved me. maybe he’d finally take the initiative. so i took him back. again, so fucking stupid.”

“i thought we were fine, but it became worse. he fucked with my head. he wanted to make me look like the bad guy. to be able to say that he was the one who ended it. he’s smart. i’ll give him that.” you sneered. resentment comes rushing back to your veins. you remember his mocking smirk and condescending tone all too well. how you visibly shrink underneath his gaze. you mistook the racing of your heart as love instead of anxiety and fear. you start to become nauseous. you surrendered to him all the power to run your life to the ground, and it will remain as the biggest mistake of your life.

“he broke up with me. that day, i didn’t feel like a person. he accused me of so many things, said such big words that made me feel so small. i was so humiliated and angry, mostly at myself. what if he was right? no, why did i let this happen to me? and then i left, but i didn’t come home.”

it was jungkook’s turn to hold your trembling figure. “baby, you’re shaking.” he sniffled, caging your face in his big hands. he stroked your cheeks with his thumbs and kissed your forehead lovingly. oh, jungkook. you didn’t even notice you were shaking. you mostly felt numb as you recalled the past events. “shhh, it’s okay. we can stop here, and you tell me the rest when you’re ready. i know this is difficult for you, my love.” he ran his hands up and down your arms to help soothe you. he grabbed the blanket from the armrest and wrapped it around you, then carried you over to his lap to embrace your still trembling body.

as you settle into his warmth, you only then perceived that you were overwhelmed with the information you poured out. you have never said these words out loud, they only wander aimlessly around your brain and you get stuck inside. now that they’re out in the open, it once again registered that what you’ve gone through was really fucking dreadful and you wonder how you still ended up here, in the safety of jungkook’s arms. his hushed whispers of comfort and sincere confessions of love gradually lulls you into ease as you nuzzle your face on his neck.

jungkook’s fingers brushed through your hair, gently rocking your body back and forth. “none of it was your fault. you did nothing wrong, okay? you deserved none of that.” you looked up to him and felt your chest tighten upon seeing the dampness under his eyes. “i’m so sorry. that piece of shit didn’t deserve your kindness. i’d give you the world if i could.”

“i have you here right now, i already got the world.” you smiled, pinching his soft cheek. pretty. “i’m fine. i promise. i love you so much. do you know that?”

he attempted to look away but you kept your hand firm. he released a shaky breath before meeting your eyes. “of course, i do. i love you, too. i love you so much.” and you wish you could keep this moment forever in your heart. just incase he changes his mind.

“i didn’t come home. i bought alcohol and went over to my best friend’s house. i was heartbroken. i got wasted and she thought it would just be a one- or two-time thing. but no, i was stubborn.” your hand gripped at his clothing as your voice cracked. “it was so bad. i left home with my uniform on but i skipped school and spent all my allowance on drinking. i got into a lot of trouble outside. there were some times i thought i wouldn’t be able to come home in one piece. i don’t know how i’m even still here. my grades were tanking. that caused a lot of rumors at school because i was an overachiever. i got pissed, so i drank some more. and then one day my parents found me passed out on our doorstep. they were furious. they threatened not to pay for my college, and then they wanted to disown me because apparently i brought shame to their household.”

you grew more anxious and self conscious under jungkook’s gaze. there it was. it’s easier to get angry at your parents, but deep down, you know they were right. you weren’t using your brain. seeing you become such a mess probably satisfied that heinous person more. was it worth it? the harsh bitter liquid burning your throat, the way the world spinned and became an unrecognizable blur as you drowned yourself in another bottle; how you laughed and cried and laughed some more. the scar on your knee from tripping on uneven pavements as you drag your weary vessel all the way home. the walk of shame on the hallway and the hangover from yesterday you persevered through your classes. that day you got suspended for being caught with alcohol in your backpack after promising your parents you’d stop, and the white walls of the hospital closing in as the withdrawal symptoms took a toll on you. the sympathetic smiles of the nurses made you feel more disgusted with yourself.

jungkook broke the defeaning silence as you willed yourself not to fall apart. i’m alright. i’m stronger than this. it’s okay. “but you’re here right now,” he said softly. “you’re okay, right? i mean . . . there’s nothing wrong? with like - you’re better now. you’re healthy?” he shot his questions frantically, concerned eyes darting around your body.

you blinked at him in confusion. “do you think i’m sick? i’m not dying, kook. my liver is fine, thankfully.” his mouth gaped open and shut like a fish, before releasing a relieved sigh. oh my god.

“oh, t-that’s good. for a second i thought-”

“baby . . .” you took his face in your hands and wiped the tears that escaped him with the blanket. “i got better before i got past the point of saving. it was difficult, and i thought i’d never get past it. but i did. i’m here right now,” you smiled at him as a good memory washes over you. “do you know what helped me? books. i picked up a book, and then i was just reading through it all.” really, that’s when the obsession started. you stopped running, and got transported into different worlds and dimensions. instead of ridding of the memories, you override them with entertaining stories and useful knowledge.

jungkook smiled back at you, his rosey nose scrunching adorably. of course. her life do literally depends on them.

“i’m so proud of you. and i hope you are, too. you’re so kind, and brave, and strong.” for the first time, someone who knew about it looked at you with no sympathy or judgement. his eyes twinkled of admiration. as if you just did a heroic act and carried an entire airplane; as if you were his favorite person in the planet.

“i hope you’re no longer placing any blame on yourself. you deserve to be happy and celebrated. and i’ll always be here for you no matter what happens. healing is not linear. you’re not expected to be okay all the time. you don’t need to pretend with the people who love you.” he gently took your hand and kissed it, making butterflies erupt in your stomach. “thank you for the trust you placed in me. i love you. i treasure you.”

the universe was truly on my side that night.

~*~

you jolt awake, your feet kicking away the blanket. your heart is thumping against your chest and you’re shivering uncontrollably. you wrap your arms around yourself to seek for comfort, but to no avail, they don’t cease.

jungkook groans, caressing his cheek that you accidentally hit as he was mostly laying on top of you, his face buried in the expanse of your neck. he swiftly becomes alert at the sight trembling figure in the dark. he turns on the nightlight and gives his full attention to you.

“baby? another bad dream?”

“it was horrible. i was so scared.” even your voice wavers, and you curse your brain for giving you a nightmare for the third time this week. why can’t i just dream of rainbows and unicorns?

he pulls you into his arms, peppering your face with kisses. “shhh, you’re safe now. nothing will hurt you here.” you close your eyes at his calming voice, but open them again when you saw flashes of the dream. “do you want to talk about it?”

you shook your head. “just hold me?”

“of course, baby,”

“thank you,” you whisper. on another thought. “can i also have a kiss?” he chuckles at your request. he presses his lips against yours, lingering for a few seconds before placing another kiss on the corner of your mouth. the sweetest. you hum in satisfaction. “thank you. that was nice.”

“just nice?” he pouts.

“amazing? show stopping? took my breath away?” you tilt your head, acting as if you’re thinking deeply.

“that’s more like it.” he flashes you his pretty smile. “are you going back to sleep?” he rakes his fingers on your hair, carefully fixing the tangles.

you glance at the clock sitting on the nightstand. “i don’t want to anymore. i feel better now, though. go back to sleep.” you climb off him so he can lay back down but he doesn’t move a muscle.

“do you want to go and watch the sunrise?”

well, that does sound tempting but… “babe, you have work in a few hours.” you remind him, patting the space beside you.

“so? that’s fine. i don’t have much to do anyway.” he crawls out of the bed excitedly and takes your hand. “come on, babyyy,” he drags out a whine. well, i guess i don’t have a choice now.

holding hands with jungkook, you find a good spot to watch the sunset. you’re not surprised to see some people at the park already. damn, are they committed to jogging.

he halts in front of a tree. “this is a nice spot. me and my friends have been here before.” he explains as he lays out a picnic blanket. you sit comfortably to take in the place you are at. you hear the birds chirping and the leaves rustling; the cold morning breeze sweeps past you, gently blowing against your hair. you pull at the sleeves of your thick sweater to cover your freezing hands, rubbing them against one another. it’s one of those moments that feels so nice and tranqil, you could cry out of joy.

jungkook grabs your hands in his and blows warm air on them, keeping them close to his chest to casually rub. “you should’ve added another layer. you know how it gets cold in the morning.” he scolds you.

“but this sweater is really cute.” you argue. “i will risk having freezing hands for fashion.”

“no one is even around here to judge your fashion sense!”

“yes, there are. what do you call those people sitting on the bench?” you gesture to your right where the benches are located.

“they’re not even looking at you.”

“shall i strut in front of them then?”

jungkook laughs with eyes closed. a smile forms on your face at the sight. god, there is really no way someone can be so beautiful. and it seems i make him laugh a lot. maybe my job here is done.

“i won’t stop you if you want to do it.” he answers lightheartedly. you pinch his rosy cheek to indulge in your irresistible urge. he swats your arm away, covering his cheek with his hand. “stop abusing my cheeks!”

“well, stop being adorable if you don’t want your cheeks pinched.”

he fakes a gasp. “that’s fucking outrageous. i was born this way.”

“should i blame your parents instead?”

“you know what? they are to be blamed.”

“jungkook, shut up and look at the sky.”

he follows where your gaze is trained. his eyes widen as he marvels at the sunrise. the skies is painted in different shades of purple, with strokes of the orange sun. he’s not much of a morning person, so he rarely witnesses the sunrise. he thinks he might’ve been greatly missing out because, “what the fuck,”

“right?” you respond absentmindedly, completely enchanted by the view in front of you. it doesn’t look real. it looks too majestic to be real. you are once again captured in the fact that the planet holds endless wonders a person could never fully explore in one lifetime. you begin to wonder if you got to travel the world in your past life. and if parallel universes are real, how cool would it be one of other yous is watching the sunset right now?

“stay right here,” jungkook suddenly says before standing up and dashing into the distance.

“what?” your question dissolves into thin air as he turns smaller and smaller in your sight. what the fuck did that man run so fast for? whatever. you take your phone from your pocket and capture pictures. you don’t want to forget this day. you sighed dreamily. am i really awake right now?

“where the fuck did you get that?” you exclaim, puzzled at your boyfriend setting up a painting canvas. beside him are his art materials, neatly organized and well taken care of.

“from my car,” he replies as if the answer is so obvious. he reaches for something from his back and hands you a book. “may i paint you? you can read so you don’t get bored.”

you look at him in disbelief, tightly clutching one of the books he gave you. “when did i ever say no to being your muse?” his face evidently brightens at your words.

“my muse . . . thank you! just be natural. pretend i’m not here.”

he quickly gets into work, examining the colors of the sky as he mixes paint on the palette. you follow his every move, completely in awe of him. his artistic talents never fails to amaze you.

love blooms in your chest as you casually glance up to him from your book. the glow of the sky reflects on his face, and you decide he’s still the most beautiful thing you will ever get the chance to witness. you also sneakily took a picture of him for your ever growing boyfriend folder. he gets so absorbed once he touches his art materials. he’s incredibly passionate and hardworking. he has faith in his abilities, but he has never stopped seeking new ways to improve and grow. he’s inspiring, and he also motivates you to be better.

he smiles at you when your eyes meet, and it just sparks something in you. a lump grows in your throat, your eyes start watering, and soon enough the tears spill down your cheeks. soft sobs escape your mouth as you hastily wipe them away with your sweater paws, but you just can’t stop now that the dam has been released.

“you’re finally crying,” jungkook says softly. he feels so relieved that he might cry too. you find him kneeling in front you, pulling your hands away from your face. “it’s okay, darling. just let it all out. it’s not good to hold back tears.” you feel safe to fall apart in his arms and so, at last, you give in to the cathartic release. and you think, the sun graced the sky this morning to witness your long overdue mourning. grief for lost time, energy, money, and the parts of yourself forever gone.

jungkook is there the entire time, being his ever so caring self. you don’t know how long it took for your sobs to subside into tiny hiccups. you take the tissue he offered to blow your nose, looking away from him in embarrassment. he chuckles, “how do you feel?”

“i feel good. actually, i feel amazing.”

did i just really need a good cry all this time?

“thank you, baby.”

“for what?”

“for bringing me here. for everything.” your chin quivers again. he wipes your tears with his thumbs this time, before leaning down for a passionate kiss. you’re lost in the way his soft lips moved against yours, his tongue never missing a chance to tease you. he playfully bites your bottom lip and then leans his forehead against yours. “i love you.”

“i love you too,” you back away and open your abandoned book, biting your bottom lip as the kiss you just shared lingers. “now go back there and finish your painting. don’t you hate unfinished works?”

his doe eyes widen, scampering back to his forgotten canvas. he pulls down his sleeves and dips his paintbrush on the palette. “where the hell did i stop?”

---

note: yn got attracted to toxicity. after being freed from the relationship she resorted to another form of it because she became well versed in self destruction. then she discovered a healthier form of escapism thru reading books :] also being w jk is making her realize that while love is unconditional, it doesn’t necessarily have to painful in order to be real. haha no i’m not projecting ??? gn

[skinsharpenedteeth]

A Small Piece of Domesticity

I thought of this little Malex scene the other day while I was doing a long drive home from work and it's sickeningly sweet. Hope you like diabetes suckers cause this scene is brought to you by the Sugar and Sacchrine devision of SkinSharpenedTeeth Co. Enjoy!

(Also readable on Ao3 bc of course it is)

--

Most of the time, Alex Manes kept his house reasonably clean. Military life had given him an appreciation for clutterless countertops and losing half a leg had driven in a need to keep all pathways clear so when Michael let himself into Alex’s house to find pieces of clothing strewn in a line towards the bedroom, he was allowed to feel mildly alarmed. His alarm turned to amusement as he followed the trail to find Alex perfectly fine and dead-to-the-world asleep. It wasn’t often that Michael could sneak up on Alex and observe him without him getting flustered and inventing a reason to make Michael stop looking. So now that he had the time, Michael took his fill for a moment. He could tell Alex had probably had a bad day by how quickly he’d stripped, just to lay spread eagle across the bed on his back with his noise-canceling headphones on. Michael could see that his hair was damp from a shower and he’d only gotten dressed in a pair of black boxer-briefs and an undershirt. The tower fan they kept in the room was whirring steadily from the side of the bed, directly across Alex’s body. It’d been hot outside that day, a sweltering August day in the desert, and now the sun was setting, but Michael could still feel the baked warmth of the outer walls radiating inward.

Michael decided he’d leave Alex alone so he could shower his own long, hot day off. Feeling incredibly soft towards the man on the bed, Michael turned and made his way into the bathroom, picking up Alex’s discarded clothes out of the hall as he went, and stuffing them into the hamper before continuing with his own ablutions. As he washed, he tried to concentrate on figuring out dinner and what he needed to do before work tomorrow, but his mind kept wandering back to Alex laid out on the bed like an offering. Shutting off the water, Michael got out of the shower and hastily toweled his hair and body. Finished, he wrapped his towel around his hips and went back into the bedroom. Alex was in the same position as before, arms still spread wide, legs splayed over the cover, eyes closed and dark red headphones still in place.

Michael walked into the room, noting how the orange glow of the setting sun looked against Alex’s skin, and went to stand at the end of the bed. Leaning over, he placed his hands on Alex’s warm, naked thighs and squeezed them lightly to wake Alex up. Alex’s eyes opened and he zeroed in on Michael. Michael smiled up at him and then felt his insides explode with happiness as Alex smiled softly back at him. Alex reached up and pulled his headphones off his head, pushing them over onto the pillow next to him.

“Hey,” he croaked, before clearing his throat and speaking again in a clearer voice. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” Michael answered, smirking up at him. He rubbed his hands up and down the firm muscles of Alex’s legs before continuing. “Can anyone join this no-pants party?”

“It’s not really a party unless there’s more than one person,” Alex retorted, half crunching up and reaching down to beckon Michael up to him. Michael loosened his towel and let it fall to the floor before he crawled onto the mattress between Alex’s legs. He could feel Alex’s eyes roving over him, but Michael kept his eyes on where his hands were pushing up the length of Alex’s body. Michael pushed up Alex’s shirt to expose his stomach and immediately nosed the center crease of his abs, inhaling a familiar smell that made his own stomach clench in appreciation.

“Mmm, you used my soap,” Michael commented before laying an open-mouthed kiss above the waistband of Alex’s underwear. One of Alex’s hands combed through Michael’s half-dried curls as he hummed in agreement. Michael pressed up into the pressure of Alex’s hand for a moment before curling his fingers under Alex’s waistband and pulling it further down so he could kiss into the valleys that led from Alex’s hips to where Michael really wanted his mouth to be.

“Yeah, I ran out. I need to buy some more,” Alex replied, voice breathy and distracted. Michael glanced up to see his gaze solely focused on where Michael’s lips hovered over his skin. When he caught Michael watching him, Alex tugged gently at his hair and pulled him up until they could share a kiss. It was like honey and fire between them. Alex cupped the back of Michael’s neck, massaging the sore muscles, while his free hand roamed over all the naked skin at his disposal. Michael hummed in pleasure and settled himself half on top of Alex’s body, enjoying the contrast between where his clothes separated their skin and where it did not.

“How was your day?” Michael asked when they parted for air. He laid his head close to Alex’s, sharing his pillow and letting his fingers trace indistinct patterns across the still exposed skin of Alex’s hip and stomach. Alex shut his eyes as if he needed to stop looking at Michael to put his words in the correct order to answer.

“Long. The a/c in the Explorer needs to be recharged. Reyes had me do some field work today testing a couple hypotheses on the Lockhart Machine and it involved a lot of sweating and standing in the sun. So when I got home I was dirty and caked in salt and tired. My leg was killing me. I took a shower and some pain meds and then laid down. What time is it?” Alex asked, starting to lift up to look over at the bedside clock. Michael stilled him with a hand to his chest.

“It’s around seven. That sound miserable. Do you work tomorrow?” Michael asked, bringing Alex’s attention back to himself and relishing the feeling of Alex’s body relaxing under him again.

“Yeah, we gotta finish up the experiments and I have to write some reports. Shouldn’t be as bad as today,” Alex replied easily. The hand that had been resting on Michael’s neck moved fluidly up into his hair, combing through the damp curls and making Michael feel like a well-treated house pet.

“Take the truck. I’ll take the Explorer into the shop and recharge the A/C,” Michael offered, eyes sliding shut at the continued sensation of Alex’s hand sliding through his hair. He shifted his head closer to Alex’s shoulder so his chin could touch the warm cotton of his shirt. They laid like that, silent for a few minutes, fingers and hands slow, but restless against each other; taking and sharing comfort in the primary language between them.

“Let’s order dinner. The idea of moving right now sucks.” Alex’s voice reached Michael from what seemed like further away, and he realized that he’d started to fall asleep. He shifted his body infinitesimally closer to Alex’s, hand hugging his waist, foot snaking under Alex’s calf to twist their legs further together, and face positioned close enough to nuzzle and kiss the soft, sensitive skin under Alex’s ear.

“Sounds good. I don’t want to move either,” Michael replied. He could feel the tension in Alex’s body rise as he spoke, the smoldering fire between them heating up and threatening to burst back into flame if Michael pressed it. Alex had said he’d taken his pain pills though, and Michael had learned that meant that parts of Alex weren’t likely to fully participate if he started something between them. He didn’t want to tease Alex like that, but he also couldn’t deny enjoying the way Alex’s grip changed against his skin when he placed seemingly innocent kisses against his neck, making sure the stubble on his chin scratched against Alex as his lips moved.

“You’re a filthy tease,” Alex accused from above him, fingers digging into Michael’s hair and tugging reprovingly. Michael smiled and moved his face away from Alex’s neck so he could grin full in Alex’s face.

“You like it,” he retorted. Alex was grinning back at him. He lifted his head to press their lips together, wringing a devastating kiss from Michael before keeping him from chasing as he pulled away.

“I love it. I love you,” Alex replied, easily. As if it had always been easy to say to Michael how much he loved him. Michael sighed and rested his head back on the pillow beside Alex’s head.

“I love you, too. Let’s order Chinese,” he offered. And that was that. They were back to smoldering and domesticity. They didn’t have to desperately cling to every trace of affection and attraction anymore because it was always there, under the surface, ready for them. There was no fear of losing it because of an unguarded word or action. They were home for each other.

[the-witty-pen-name]

Rekindling

Part Two of The Necklace (2/3)

Read Part One Here

Obi-Wan x Reader (f)

Warnings: none; fluff and angst 

Word Count: 1.4k

Based on this Request:

“If you still need that inspiration... maybe an obi-wan thing where he makes the reader a beautiful necklace when they were young padawans and they get separated bc reader goes om a long mission but when they meet again as adults she still wears it and then he confesses his feelings (a bit of anakin teasing his master about his obvious feelings sprinkled in perhaps😂)”

A/N: Like part one, parts in italics are flashbacks! Thank you all so much for reading and I hope you like Part Two! Thanks again to @katevino for the request!

My tags are also now open for anyone who would like to be added! Also my requests are currently open!

Part three will be posted Thursday and will contain smut so this can be read as a two part fic or a three part fic. This one reads like it can be the end even though there is another part coming!

“When are you leaving?” he asked you, tears threatening to fall as they filled the corners of his eyes.

“Tomorrow morning,” you reply unable to meet his gaze so you keep your eyes fixed on the pattern of the tiles on the floor.

“How long will you be gone?” he sniffles, looking back up to you. He puffs out his chest slightly, like he’s trying to prevent strength and you don’t know if that’s for your or his sake.

“Indefinitely,” you respond after a sharp intake of breath to steady your breathing. “Master Yoda said it’s more like a relocation than one mission. I’m to accompany my Master as he is needed on Alderaan. Obi-Wan, I don’t have a choice.”

You weren’t children anymore, and it was so incredibly foolish of you both to have allowed your feelings to overcome you both this way. He had only just returned from Tatooine, the Jedi Consul meeting with Qui Gon-Jinn and the boy they brought back as the two of you spoke. Silent looks of desperation and sadness exchanged between the two of you. You were already torn apart once, and now just as he returns back to you, you are being sent away again.

“Let’s run away together,” he says suddenly, taking your hands.

“Obi-Wan…”

“We can leave the Order,” he begins quickly, letting his emotions completely take control. “We can move far away from here and just be together. We can get married, and just not have to hide anything. I want you, and I always have. I’d leave right now if you wanted. I care more about you than anything else in this lifetime. We can go to Naboo- I know you said you’d always wanted to visit and I promise you it’s beautiful.”

“Obi-Wan,” you say shaking your head, cutting him off. You keep your eyes closed tightly, trying to keep tears from spilling uncontrollably. “No.”

He sighs, but his breath is so shaky. You both are trying your best to find composure. “I’m sorry,” he says finally, resting his forehead against your own.

“I’m going to miss you,” you say, and you just now realize there is a steady stream of tears rolling down your cheeks.

“(Y/N), please,” Obi-Wan says, not entirely sure what he is even asking as he lifts his thumb to your cheek to wipe away the tears.

“We dedicated ourselves to the Jedi Order,” you say, trying to talk yourself out of his plan that you so desperately just wanted to surrender to. “Obi-Wan, we have been so incredibly blinded by our emotions. How can we allow ourselves to be so selfish as the galaxy is faced with the possibility of war?”

“I suppose you’re right darling,” he sighs. You both had responsibilities that weighed more important than your own personal tragedy.

“You should do your best to forget about me,” you struggle to say, stepping back from his embrace. “We should move forward from here like nothing ever- we never happened. Focus and commit to the code we pledged to uphold. It was all a mistake.”

“Darling, loving you was never a mistake.”

And with that, you were gone. Unable to bear being near him for another moment. It was too painful.

It had been ten years since you had last been at the Jedi Temple. As you navigate the halls to find your sleeping quarters, you notice the feeling of home you once felt here no longer existed for you. Perhaps that feeling all those years ago was Obi-Wan, you wonder. Finding your quarters, you survey the emptiness of the room. It was so incredibly sparce, and you imagine how you would decorate it if time permitted you to stay.

You feel uneasy, the Temple now feeling foreign to you when it was once the only place you had ever known. You remember back to that last conversation with him and how miserably you failed to forget and overcome your feelings. You wondered if Obi-Wan had been more successful. He must have, you think, you know Obi-Wan very well and he always excelled in areas of the Force you struggled with. You try your best to let the thoughts of him slip away to the back of your mind and try to get settled.

Meanwhile, Obi-Wan and Anakin were just returning back to the Temple. Anakin ruthlessly pestering Obi-Wan with questions.

“I think she is still in love with you, Master,” Anakin said with a grin, happy he was successful in making Obi-Wan flustered. “I sensed something when you two were talking.”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan replied, “I must insist you stop bringing up these theories of yours.”

“They aren’t theories, Master,” Anakin chuckles, shaking his head at Obi-Wan. “And deep down you know I’m right.”

Obi-Wan sighed heavily, crossing his arms, thinking on how to respond to Anakin. “Anakin, it was over ten years ago. You need to put this to rest.”

“You need to stop running from your feelings, Master.”

“I wasn’t the one who ended things,” he says, exasperated. “She was the one who was stronger than me- she always has been. Now, please, don’t bring her up again.”

“I’m sorry Master,” Anakin says earnestly.

“It’s okay,” he replies with a sad smile. “It’s nothing more than reuniting with an old friend.”

“Of course.”

“I appreciate your concern,” Obi-Wan says, noticing how Anakin is saddened.

“I only care about your happiness, Master,” Anakin replies, the conversation finalized.

Obi-Wan walked back to his quarters, still overcome with memories of what feels like a past life with you. His thoughts weigh heavy as they shift to the realization that you are finally here. How much he longed for a day when you’d return home to him. Now that you were here, and he could feel your presence echoing in the halls again, he found himself disappointed. He spent years hopelessly wishing for you to come back, and the circumstances now add to the harsh realization those hopes will always be just that.

He was meditating when you arrived at his door. The tension in the air between the two of you was heavy as he watched you look around his room. You were just taking a moment to observe what he had on display, the mementos allowing you to form some kind of narrative of the life he’s led since you’d last seen him.

“I’m really happy to be back,” you say finally, your voice cutting through the weighted atmosphere. He pondered his conversation with Anakin. He was so quick to dismiss Anakin’s observation and now he feels a pull at his heart as he wishes that Anakin is correct.

“How do you like it on Alderaan?” he asks, holding his hands behind his back. Part of him genuinely wanted to hear about your mission and the specialty of your work, but it was more of a stall tactic to avoid the actual questions he was dying to ask you.

“It’s not home, but I like it fine,” you smile, looking back to him. Your heart feeling like it’s beating faster than it ever has before. The social niceties and the catching up questions were killing you inside. Your mind was scrambled and you frantically tried to find more to say. You could only think about him, and how he was finally right there in front of you. Looking at you the same way he always had.

“It’s a shame you cannot stay longer,” Obi-Wan says, his eyes looking nervously down on the floor before meeting your gaze again. “I wish we had more time… Oh, (Y/N), things ended so terribly when I last saw you. I feel heartsick thinking about it. I tried to find you the next day, give you a proper goodbye but you had already gone.”

“That was my doing,” you admit, looking down at your feet as he takes a few daring steps closer to you. “I knew if I had saw you again, I wouldn’t have been able to leave.”

“Oh darling,” he whispers softly, pulling you into his chest. His strong arms wrap around you tightly, the familiar warmth of his chest helping to calm you. You hadn’t even realized you had started crying until you felt the dampness of his tunic against your cheek. You rested your hands gently on his chest as he held you tightly, resting his chin on your head.

This feels like home, you say to yourself, the wave of anxieties and clutter in your mind vanishing at his touch. You could stay there just like that forever. Years you spent struggling with your thoughts and emotions, only ever just making them worse, and the one thing you needed was just to be with him- and it was all just so painstakingly clear.

“I’m not leaving you again,” you whisper softly.

Taglist:

@blackirisposts​

[buckmepapi]

Men really are idiots.

I’m finally being spoken to now after ignoring him for a week and calling him today to ask for my spare house key back which I now have, I told him I don’t feel comfortable with him having it anymore because the whole point was that he lives up the road from me and if there’s an emergency where I have lost my keys then all I have to do is call and come round for it, but if he’s ignoring me for 2 weeks then I can’t trust him to be reliable with it.

Apparently we’re okay now. He said he initially ignored me because I never thanked him for taking me to pick up groceries. But I said to him that’s not fair, I was in a great mood that day and was trying to cheer you up and your shitty horrible mood and the way you spoke to me caused me to be in a bad mood too so we just sat there not speaking, I had no idea that I wasn’t thankful because I was in my own head bc you were being miserable and mean, I thought I did but I believe him that I didn’t because I often forget as I’m in my own head so much. So I apologised for that anyway. As usual I’ve got no apology for the way he’s treated me for two weeks. He then said he ignored me further because I kept pestering him and being a burden, but I’ve told him if you just tell me what I’ve done I can apologise, if you tell me you’re okay but want space or if you tell me you want alone time then just say. I won’t be mad or upset or worried, it’ll actually stop me contacting you because I know you’re safe and I know what the deal is, but if you flat out ignore me out of the blue for two weeks then of course I’m going to feel abandoned and paranoid being left to stew in my own anxious thoughts wondering what I did and what’s going to happen then of course I’m going to end up contacting you panicking trying to find out if you’re okay.

I expressed that if it happens again I won’t allow him to make excuses anymore because it’s not on and it’s cruel. There is no use in a punishment if you don’t know why you’re being punished. It’s selfish and childish and I won’t stand for it anymore, so I told him as such.

I got a hug and a kiss and everything is apparently fine now, he’ll talk to me and come see me soon when he’s not busy with work and fixing his cars, l cried when I got a hug like I’m not even sad or anything I don’t care at this point anymore I’m just so touch starved bc now I need more hugs :/

But I’m glad I stuck up for myself and spoke calmly. I won’t allow myself to be treated like this anymore, I’m not standing for the lack of communication and making excuses that I’m always the problem. He needs to communicate if something is wrong but I stand by the fact that ignoring me for 2 weeks as a punishment when he knows I’m autistic and have mental health problems is cruel and unneeded. I can give someone all the time alone they need, it’s the coldness of it that’s childish and made me waste all my tears.

I’ll see how it goes. But I’m done wasting my energy and emotions, I won’t be messaging him as often, I won’t be “pestering” him I won’t call him; he can forever text me first and I’ll keep my messages short and brief and that’s it, I’ll still see him and fuck and cuddle and all that shit but I’m just gonna be distant because clearly that’s what he wants, it’ll probably help me mentally anyway to be less co dependent and clingy but I wish he didn’t go about it in a cruel way

I’ll most likely never get an apology bc he loves to gaslight but idc , I just want my next d appointment n he can leave and be real fwb who don’t like each other n he’ll deadass regret it lmao

Personal growth the house down

[hargrove-mayfields]

Harringrove tag game! by @lovebillyhargrove

I was tagged by @mrsblackruby! tysm!! <3

1. Do they get together BEFORE MF possessing Billy or AFTER shit goes down? (Or maybe DURING😲)

Typically I say before, like at around Christmas time in ‘84. I think anybody in a small town puts aside character prejudices around the holidays and tries to make those connections with everyone, so I’ve always felt, especially since the fight was literally only a month before, that Steve would reach out to Billy the night of the Snowball and things would, well, snowball from there.

2. Who kisses who first?

Definitely Steve. I firmly stand by the hc that Billy’s never kissed a boy before Steve, and maybe Steve hasn’t either, but he’s the romantic, no way is he going to let Billy kiss him first.

3. Where do they have their first sex? (Location) (HJs and BJs count)

I don’t really have a solid answer for this? But definitely somewhere very spur of the moment, maybe somebody’s couch or the locker rooms?

4. Who says 💖 I LOVE YOU 💖 first?

Imma say Billy. Opposite of my last answer, I don’t feel like either of them would say they love each other on accident or like, in the moment. I think their first I love you’d would be very very controlled. I also think Billy has less experience with actually being in love, so when the time comes that he’s actually mustered up the courage to say it to Steve, I think he’s super nervous and practices the perfect scenario in his head a dozen times. It’s definitely not blurted out.

5. I believe this fandom is way past having hard feelings about it, so

BottomSteve! or BottomBilly?

I don’t have a strong opinion either way, but typically, I prefer bottom!Steve. No particular reason, that’s just the way I tend to read things!

6. Do they give gifts to each other?

Absolutely! Billy doesn’t have the disposable income to run out and buy Steve new things every time he wants to give him something, so I think he does a really cheesy like, giving him a kiss as a present and making a big deal out of it.

Steve is sort of the same way, in that he doesn’t like to give Billy material things, because he doesn’t want him to think he’s being pretentious or trying to hold his wealth over Billy’s head like he’s his mom or something, so he only gives Billy personal things. Old pilled t-shirts to wear to bed and a blanket to keep on the couch in his room that smells like him. Things like that.

They also try to make eachother things as presents, like food or little knick knacks in art class, but they always fail miserably and think it’s really funny when all they have to show is a smoking mess.

7. Where do they end up living? California, Chicago, Hawkins... Idk .. Alaska??)))) Any other location?

I honestly think they stay in Hawkins. I don’t think after everything Billy would be able to leave Max behind, and I also think that Steve would like having a connection to where he grew up, even if bad things happened there. If they did leave though, I see them going down south, maybe tourist trap Tennessee?

8. What are their future jobs?

In my mind that very much depends on if we’re following canon and this is post Starcourt or like, if it’s a whole new AU. Because after that I don’t think Billy would actually ever be physically well enough to work again. I know it’s a pretty unpopular opinion, bc the general hc is that he bounces back within a year or so with some scars (which is cool! I’m not knocking that I’m just sayin) but I think he'd be permanently disabled, on oxygen support 24/7, and just with all sorts of health complications from, you know, literally having a gaping hole in his chest, that would make it impossible for him to work. In that sort of scenario I usually think of Steve as a being teacher or an artist, something that he doesn’t have very long work hours or can do from home so he can be there to take care of Billy.

If we’re going with like, a no upside down or a Billy is never hurt au, I think he stays in Hawkins and just works in some sort of a mom and pop until he’s the new manager, like at an antique store maybe?

(p.s. stay tuned for an upcoming fic about Billy working in a fix-it shop!!)

As for Steve, I feel like he wouldn’t ever be able to settle on one career when he didn’t have limitations. I don’t really know what he’d eventually decide is his calling, maybe design of some sort? Jewelry making?

This is a hard question, I don’t really see them as being tied down to one career indefinitely, but I do know I don’t see either of them ever working desk jobs.

9. Who's a better cook?

Neither of them. Billy wasn’t allowed in the kitchen growing up because Neil said it’s a woman's place, and Steve is just god awful at following directions, like, can’t tell the difference between a teaspoon and a tablespoon or preheat the oven awful. They just eat takeout and like, cold sandwiches literally all the time until someone (Joyce) notices and teaches them how to cook on the weekends.

10. Steve Hargrove or Billy Harrington?

Billy Harrington. I don’t see him wanting to be a Hargrove anymore. He has no positive ties to the name with his mom leaving and his dad being his dad, so I think he’d want to take Steve’s last name. Also this is kinda weird but I am VERY particular about my middle name hcs (I think it’s an ocd thing? idk) and I have an alliterative name for Steve that wouldn’t work if he was a Hargrove instead of a Harrington, so that’s also part of the reason.

11. What's Max's reaction when she hears they're together?

I think probably just like, confusion. Not over Billy being with a boy, but over that boy being Steve. Like, she doesn’t know Steve well, but she knows he’s the responsible big brother to Dustin, and that’s the exact opposite of what her brother is like, so it catches her off guard. She’s definitely a little gossip though, wanting all the not-gross details about Steve from her brother. She’s basically just a little sister about it, I guess.

12. Describe in ONE SENTENCE Hopper's reaction when he hears the names Hargrove and Harrington mentioned together?

Not again.

13. Does Robin like Billy OR does Robin hate Billy?

I think she likes him. I have a little hc that she and him were together in an underground pre-gsa kinda thing in high school. She pretends she can’t stand him, but the two of them are quick best friends. (this might just be me but I think the two of them together would give statler and waldorf vibes)

14. What about Dustin?

Dustin I think actually thinks Billy is really cool. Like, he’s like a little double agent, hearing from Max all the annoying things about Billy, and from Steve the good things. He’ll gag if Steve gets too mushy over him and he’ll definitely join in with Max in calling Billy gross, and he also absolutely gives Billy a (very non-intimidating. he’s too soft) shovel talk, but I think he really likes and looks up to Billy as like, his other big brother.

15. Fav Harringrove AU?

Oh gosh, I can’t even pick. I think I like childhood friends aus best? They’re really fun to play with and it always ends up being super sweet. I’m a big fan of soulmates too for kind of the same reasons. I like mushy stuff.

16. Billy+Camaro=...??? (Not strictly Harringrove, but I can't not to ..)

I honestly don’t think Billy cares about the camaro that much. He’d be sad when it gets totaled because that was his only way of getting around and also his first car, but I don’t think the car itself has that much value to him. I mean, he treats it with absolutely zero respect, jumping curbs and driving too fast and slamming on those breaks. The camaro is just a car. 🤷🏻‍♀️

I’ll tag: @lifegaurd-hargrove85! @deardmvz! and @strangebrainrot! no pressure! and as usual, if anybody else sees this and wants to participate, feel free!