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javierpena-inatacvest · 1 year ago

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Chapter 12- I Love You. I Know.

Summary: As the end of October approaches, you and Javi learn more about celebrating Halloween and Dia De Los Muertos together. After a sleepless night, and a Halloween party at the Murphy's, Javi begins to open up to you about his past.

Word Count: 15.6K (I'm sweating)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy), oral (m receiving), vaginal fingering, creampie, praise kink, semi-public sex (Oh the poor Murphy's...), PTSD/Anxiety around grief, loss and Javi's past, some angst/tension, mentions of drinking/being drunk (Steve is getting PLASTERED), mentions of food/eating, SO MANY STAR WARS REFERENCES, literally this chapter made me sob while I was writing it, editing it, and re-reading it, I am SO sorry

A/N: You guys. Holy shit. This chapter really had me in my feels. This chapter was def a labor of love, but I'm really happy with how it turned out!! Thank you for as always for all you kind words, you truly, truly, TRULY have no idea how much your support means to me 😭💖 Also please don't kill me after you finish reading this chapter I PROMISE *things* are happening so soon I can literally taste it, but I needed for this chapter to happen first, and you would be silly to think that *things* didn't get its own whole ass chapter and I am just as excited as you AH

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The excitement of October’s conclusion was in the air, and the joys of getting to celebrate what you hoped would be the first of many holidays with Javi was at the forefront of your mind. While the end of summer meant school was here and your carefree days were gone until next June, October meant it was time for one of your favorite holidays- Halloween. It was one of your most cherished things to celebrate as a kid, and even still as an adult. The memories of jumping into leaf piles off your swingset with your brothers, dressing up in goofy, homemade costumes to trick-or-treat (because your mom was not about to buy 4 new sets of costumes every single year), carving pumpkins, and stealing as many of your brother’s Kit Kat bars as you could without getting caught, filled your heart with a warmth and joy that you couldn’t quite describe. While the 80 degree temperatures and lack of bright reds and yellows painted across the leaves falling from their trees was much different from the Chicago Octobers you were accustomed to, it hadn’t stopped you from heading full steam into Halloween.

“So do you have any thoughts on what we should be for Steve and Connie’s? I have no problem going out to buy stuff for costumes, but I can already hear my mom yelling at me for wasting my money on cheaply made clothes I’m gonna wear for 5 hours when I have something perfectly good in my closet.” You rolled your eyes as you shuffled through the hangers, Javi sitting on the edge of your bed folding the laundry you were working on putting away.

The two of you had gladly accepted the invitation from Steve and Connie to spend the weekend with them in San Antonio, as the Murphy’s planned to host a Halloween party at their house for their friends and co-workers, giving you and Javi a chance to have a fun weekend out of town together.

“Hmmmm?” He asked, looking up at you as you grabbed a few shirts, examining them for costume potential. “We’re dressing up for this thing?”

“Yeah, that’s like, the whole point of Halloween, dummy.” You giggled, throwing a few options on the floor before making your way over to your pants. “Didn’t you dress up as a kid for Halloween?”

Unlike yourself, Javi had spent his whole life celebrating Día de los Muertos, Halloween having nowhere near as much relevance to him as it did to you, spending the end of October and first days of November gathering with his family to spend the day making Pan de Muerto (Day of the Dead sweet bread), watching the parades on the streets of Downtown Laredo before visiting the cemetery where his grandparents were buried, decorating their graves in cempasúchil (marigold flowers), candles and photographs with his primos (cousins). Since his mom had passed, Javi hadn’t been home to celebrate with his family, and had almost forgone the tradition completely during his time in Colombia, the pain and loss of his mother and the solemn sadness of celebrating alone leading him to try his best to forget about the holiday all together.

“Uh, no, not, not really. Didn’t really do Halloween, isn’t really as much of a thing down here. My family always celebrated Día de Los Muertos instead.” He replied, almost embarrassed by his answer, not wanting to damper your excitement as you dug through your closet for costumes.

Your heart sank to your stomach, feeling awful that you hadn’t even taken into consideration that Javi's traditions around this time of year were completely different from what you were used to. The two of you had never really talked about how you wanted to celebrate future holidays, and always had wanted to make sure that the important parts of your lives were celebrated equally. Javi hadn’t said anything after you had spent the past few days putting up Halloween decorations around your apartment, and now you felt like an idiot assuming he had spent his whole life celebrating just like you.

“Oh… Shit. Javi, I’m so sorry, if you don’t wanna do costumes, we don’t have to, you just hadn’t said anything about Día de Los Muertos so I just assumed that-”

“Baby, it’s okay.” He pushed himself up off the bed, the width of his broad palms wrapping around your hips, trying to ease the guilt he could tell was rapidly consuming you. “You’re right, I never told you about it. It’s been a long time since I’ve done anything to celebrate it, and I haven’t been home for it since I’ve gotten back from Colombia. I just- I don’t really know how to feel about it, I guess. The last time I did anything for it was before my mom died. I was never able to bring myself to do anything about it while I was gone, and I guess now I just feel really shitty that was the way I decided to handle it.” It broke your heart to see the pain in his eyes, pulling yourself closer to him as you wrapped your arms around his stomach, leaning your head against his chest. It was then, the realization had hit you too- This would be your first year of holidays without Patrick. You didn’t know as much as you would have liked to about Día de Los Muertos, but you did know that it was to celebrate the lives of loved ones you’d lost, a feeling that you and Javi were both all too familiar with.

“Listen…” You raised your head, looking up at him, arms still intertwined around his waist. “I don’t- I don’t wanna make you do anything that you’re uncomfortable with. I guess this is the first time we’ve ever really talked about this kind of stuff. I wanna spend the rest of my life with you, Jav, and that means celebrating the things that are special to both of us. The things that are important to you are important to me too. I want our lives for us, for our future family, to be filled with all the things we care the most about, whether that means keeping old traditions or making our own new ones. It would mean a lot to me to get to celebrate Día de los Muertos with you, and if it’s okay, I would love to sprinkle in some Halloween too, because I’m fucking dying to carve a pumpkin.”

You smiled up at him as his hand slid under your jaw, his thumb tracing across your cheek as he tried his best to hold back the tears welling in his eyes. It took everything in him to not ruin his plans, wanting to run into the bedroom, grab the ring out of his sock drawer and propose to you that very instant. Even after all this time, Javi still couldn't believe that he was the person you wanted to share the rest of your life with. That you wanted to intertwine your past, present, and future with his, to have a life, a family, together that the two of you could cherish forever. Never in a million years had he assumed he’d be anywhere close to where he was today, holding the world’s most beautiful, perfect woman in his arms, as she told him how she wanted nothing more than to build a family and spend the rest of her days with him.

“Osita… I fucking love you so much, you know that?” He leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a soft and deep kiss, your heart racing as he pulled you in tighter.

“Yeah, I mean, I guess, just a little bit…” You giggled, poking fun at him, considering not a day had passed since the first night he had said it that Javi hadn’t told you just how much he loved you.

“Shut up, you dork.” He chuckled, making you squeal as he picked you up, playfully shaking you in his grasp before setting you back down. “I’d love nothing more, Hermosa. I don’t know how the fuck you’re supposed to carve a pumpkin or what the hell you have planned for these costumes, but I’m all in. I want it all with you, Osita. Thank you.”

“Of course. For as much or as little as you want to do for Día de los Muertos, I’m all in too. I’m gonna be honest, I love Hallowen. Not as much as Christmas, but it’s a close second. It means you’re gonna have to trust me with a giant ass knife and cover yourself in pumpkin guts, though.”

“My trust is quickly starting to fade. Seriously though, what the hell are we supposed to dress up as?” He raised an eyebrow at you, nodding over to the pile of clothes you had pulled from your closet, now piled on the floor.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got some ideas.”

The weeks leading up to the holidays had made for fun at home date nights, the both of you genuinely looking forward to learning about the traditions you had both held so dear to your hearts. Almost every night after work, you had done something to celebrate the events leading up to the day. You had shown Javi a few of your favorite Halloween movies, including It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown, Beetlejuice, and Ghostbusters, very adamantly insisting to him that those movies were about as scary as you were going to get, blaming your brothers for scarring you after forcing you to watch The Exorcist at the ripe age of 7 years old. In addition to the movies, you had told him about other funny Trick-Or-Treating stories from your childhood, Javi’s favorite being how your brothers, (being the ruthless idiots they were) paid one of their friends in all of their halloween candy to jump out of a bush dressed as a terrifying old lady to scare the absolute shit out of you, and making you quite literally pee your pants. In return Javi shared his favorite memories of cooking in the kitchen with his mom as she made Pan de Muertos for his family, the two of you even attempting to make it one of the nights after work, milling about the kitchen together as Javi told you about his family you had yet to meet, or had passed away long before you.

After a lengthy hunt, you were able to find pumpkins, bringing them to Chucho’s house to carve them since you had nowhere to put them inside your apartment. You offered him the rest of your Pan de Muertos in exchange for a place to work on your pumpkins, and while he gladly accepted the bread, the three of you knew Chucho was always happy to have you and Javi over, regardless.

“So tell me, mija,” Chucho spoke in between mouthfuls of sweet bread, rocking back and forth in his chair, “is there a meaning behind carving the pumpkins, or is it just for fun?”

“Just for fun! Okay, it looks like we’re ready, you want me to show you how to do it, or just let you go for it?” You smiled at Javi, the two of you sitting cross legged on Chucho’s porch, pumpkins open in front of you.

“You just scoop them out, right?” Javi questioned, looking into the pumpkin with an unsure grimace. “It seems like there's a lot in here, Osita. I have to get all of it out?”

“Yeah, or else you can’t see the design when you carve it. C’mon you big baby, just stick your hand in there and pull the guts out!” You laughed, digging your hand into your pumpkin, scooping out hearty globs of pumpkin guts, slopping them into the bucket Chucho had set out for you. Reluctantly, Javi joined, you and Chucho both absolutely dying at Javi’s face as his hand met the squishy fibers inside his pumpkin.

“Jesus, that feels fucking gross!” He laughed, shaking his head as he threw some of the seeds and strings into the trash next to him.

“You need me to do it for you?” You giggled, flicking a pumpkin seed at him as he winced with the second handful he pulled out.

“No, cabrón (asshole), I can do it.” Javi grumbled as he rolled his eyes at you, the both of you scooping hearty handfuls of goop.

“You hear that, Chucho? Calling me an asshole because he’s too scared to pull out pumpkin guts.” You looked back at his dad, giving him a playful grin, his smile already wide from the enjoyment of watching the two of you. With your back turned to Javi, you hadn’t noticed the small handful of seeds he had collected in his hand, lining up his arm to aim right at the back of your head. “I can’t believe that- HEY!” You whipped your neck around, running your hand over the back of your neck, picking seeds and strings out of your hair, seeing Javi snicker to himself as your jaw dropped open in shock. “Did you seriously just throw pumpkin guts at me?!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, must have been a ghost.” He shrugged, smirking to himself before digging his hand back into his pumpkin.

“You see this?!” You looked back at Chucho, pointing your finger at Javi, pretending to be stern, although your laughter quickly escaped. “Absolutely ridiculous, I swear.”

“Javier, that is no way to treat your future esposa! (Wife) No quiero mis nietos ser cubierto en calabaza! Me encantáran en cualquier caso, pero todavía! (I don’t want my future grandchildren covered in pumpkin! I will love them either way, but still!)” Chucho scolded with a smirk, you and Javi silently smiling to each other at the thought of one day doing this with your own children. Javi had tried to stop fighting off his dad’s comments about grandkids a while ago- Chucho knew just as well as the two of you that he would have his grandchildren soon enough.

“Ella lo pído… (She asked for it…)” Javi muttered under his breath, shooting his gaze up at you as he felt cold goop hit the side of his cheek, wiping the pumpkin you had just thrown at him off with the back of his hand, watching you smirk silently to yourself as you continued to scoop out your pumpkin.

“Ahora… Estamos a mano. (And now… We’re even.)”

The 3 of you chatted on the porch, the sky now painted a dark black, filled with twinkling constellations above as you finished carving your pumpkins. Yours, a cute ghost with a little smiley face, and Javi’s, what he had tried to convince you and Chucho was also a ghost, even though it looked more like he had just carved a squiggly hole in the middle of his. It took a little prodding and convincing, but as you all talked about how the Peña family had spent many a Día de los Muertos, you and Chucho were able to get Javi to agree to go visit his mom’s gravesite on the Sunday after you got back from Steve and Connie’s party. Chucho had even promised to keep his tias, tios, and primos (aunts, uncles, and cousins) completely out of the picture this year, wanting to give Javi all the time and space he needed to go see his mom for the first time since her funeral. He was reluctant at first, riddled with the guilt of leaving her unvisited all these years, but as he felt the gentle squeeze of your hand, your silent reassurance was all he needed to know that you would be by his side, every step of the way. As you said your goodbyes, Chucho hugged you just a little extra tighter than normal, as if to thank you for everything you had done for his son, and just how thankful he was to have you in his life, too.

Even though the Murphy’s had very graciously offered to let you and Javi stay on Friday night as well as Saturday, both Steve and Connie very much understood when you had told them on the phone that the only thing that you wanted to do after coming home from the chaos of managing an elementary school Halloween party was take a very, very long nap. You and Javi had spent the night ordering pizza and watching Young Frankenstein, only lasting about 20 minutes into the movie before you were dead asleep, snoring against Javi’s chest, still dressed in If You Give A Mouse A Cookie costume from earlier today. Carrying you to bed and undressing you from your mouse ears and oversized overalls, Javi curled into bed next to you, pulling your body against his as he stared at the ceiling. Despite how hard he tried to fall asleep, he laid there, wide awake as ever, as his head raced with the tornado of thoughts brewing inside his brain.

Javier Peña had never really considered himself to be an anxious person. For most of his life, he couldn’t be. For the sake of his job, the sake of his family after his Mom passed, Javi had survived the only way he had known how- Block it out, and ignore it. And so far, that strategy had seemed to bode for him pretty darn well. But that was before he had anyone who depended on him, cared about him, anyone who made his life worth living for. That was before he had met you. Now, Javi found himself at the crossroads of a moment he had been waiting for since the moment he had first laid eyes on you. Something that brought him absolute joy and sheer terror at the same time- Javier Peña was going to propose to you, and he was an anxious fucking mess.

If that in itself wasn’t enough, things at the Laredo County Sheriff's Department had been an absolute shit show. Mexico was the only thing on anyone’s radar, making for long days and high tension at the office, trying to do anything to slow the spread of the cartel’s influence across the border. Day after day, report after report, it felt like the department was drowning in the endless shitty news of new death tolls, record breaking trafficking stats, and lack of control as cocaine moved across the Rio Grande at a groundbreaking pace. Even though he found himself even further removed from Mexico than he ever was in Colombia, he couldn’t help but feel that painful, searing wrench in his gut when he sat down to really think about it.

You.

Spending your lives together.

Having a family.

Protecting his wife and kids.

The things he would do to keep you safe.

The terrible things he had done he had justified were keeping other people safe.

The imagines of the things he wish he could unsee.

The pain and hurt he wished he could take back.

The fear of what he was capable of doing.

So with a knot in his chest from work, a ring hidden away in his sock drawer, and the beginnings of a plan to ask the woman he loved more than life itself to marry him, Javi coped with the weight of his stress the only way he knew how. He couldn’t fucking sleep.

The thoughts played in his mind on repeat, torturing him with every loop around his brain. He tried his best to close his eyes, to empty his head for a moment of peace, but no matter how much he wished he could have willed himself to sleep, it was no use. By the time the alarm clock on his nightstand read 2:05 AM, Javi had completely given up on the idea of rest for the night, quietly making his way out of bed to go wander around the living room. It wasn’t long before you too were also awake, rolling over in your sleep to find Javi’s space in the bed cold and empty. Rubbing your eyes and propping yourself up against your pillow, you scanned around the darkness of your room as you came to, realizing that Javi was nowhere to be found. Draping one of the blankets from your bed over you, you crept into the hallway, greeted by the soft light of one of the living room lamps painting shadows against the wall.

“Javi, are you up?” Your voice still soft and sleepy, rubbing your hand along your face, squinting from the sudden brightness that lit up the room.

“Osita, baby, did I wake you up? I'm so sorry. Go back to bed, okay?” Javi shot up from the couch, setting down whatever book he had been half focused on reading as he watched your bed headed figure meander into the living room.

“No, it’s okay.” You grumbled, holding out your blanket covered arms for Javi to melt his body into yours, wrapping you in a tight hug. You pressed your head into the bare skin of his chest, snaking your hands around his waist as he planted his lips against the the top of your head, burying his nose in your tangled hair. “Baby, what’s going on? Why can’t you sleep? I’m worried about you, Jav.”

“I’m… Yeah, I’m okay, Hermosa. Just a lot on my mind.” He sighed, his exhale still buried in your hair as he savored the smell of you, still lingering even in your sleepy state.

His pause alone was enough to know okay wasn’t the word that you would use to describe Javi right now. His words were burdened and fatigued, making it clear that whatever was on his mind was weighing on him more heavily than he wanted to admit.

“Are you sure? Javi, if you wanna talk about anything, you know I’m always here, right?”

You wanted so desperately to pry. Everything in you had a feeling that whatever was keeping him up were entangled in the parts of his dark parts past, the last secrets holding up the final wall between the two of you. You knew from your brothers how hard it was to talk about the pain and suffering they had witnessed, and begging them to talk about it before they were ready only seemed to make it worse. Hell, after Patrick died, it felt like you didn’t sleep for weeks, and it had taken you months to open up about it. You knew Javi hurt, and as much as you wanted to, digging deeper into the things that plagued him in his restless nights wasn’t what he needed right now. Right now, he just needed someone to be there for him.

“Is there anything I can do, Javi? I just wanna help.” The breath of your sympathetic whispers were hot against Javi’s skin, squeezing your arms to pull him as close to you as he could. He paused for a moment, letting out another deep breath as cradled the back of your head with his palm, running his hands through your hair.

“Will- Will you stay up with me? Just a little bit longer?” His voice trembled as you turned your head to lock your eyes with his, the gentle nod of your head bringing him a moment of relief.

“Of course, baby. Of course I’ll stay up with you. Do you wanna turn on the TV or put on a movie? Sometimes that helps me sleep.” You stretched your arms over your head, scrunching your face as you yawned before tugging your blanket tighter around your body.

“Believe me, Hermosa, I know it does.” He let out a soft chuckle as he pressed a soft kiss against your forehead.

“Oh shit, yeah that is true. I don’t even think I made it halfway through Young Frankenstein tonight, which is a crime. It’s such a good movie. I don’t even remember getting into bed.” You yawned again, this time taking one of your blanket covered fists to try and rub the sleep out of your eyes, forcing yourself to stay awake.

“Well, if you give a mouse pizza and a movie after a long day at school, then she’ll probably need her boyfriend to carry her to bed because she’s so tired.” Now awake enough, Javi’s cute jab at your costume for school made you let out a little giggle, giving him a little shove with your blanket wrapped body. “Why don’t we turn the rest of it on, so you can finish watching?”

“I don’t wanna fall asleep on you, Javi.” You grumbled, pouting up at him, considering he had just asked you to stay awake with him.

“It’s okay. As long as I have you by me, I’ll be alright, I promise.” Reluctantly, you nodded in agreement, plopping yourself on the couch as Javi turned on the TV, rewinding the VHS tape to the point where you had fallen asleep earlier before joining you, draping his arm around your shoulder as you tucked in your knees and scooted closer to him. You sat for a few minutes in silence, letting the sounds of the movie fill the background. As you turned your head to look up at Javi, you could tell that even though his eyes were pointed at the screen, there was no way he was really watching the movie. Reaching up your hand, you ran your fingers across the length of his strong jaw, his stubble scratching against your palm, forcing him to look back at you. Your eyes met his, the sweet, chocolate brown looking back at you, with a confusing mix of exhaustion, guilt, want and helplessness. You brought your face closer to his, your lips now only inches apart as your whispers danced against his mouth, desperate to find something to ease his pain.

“What do you need, Javi? Whatever you need, I’ll give it to you.”

His tongue swept against his bottom lip, taking one last shaky breath before his words left his body with his exhale.

“You. I need you.”

His hands found their way to the bare skin of your thighs, his fingertips barely brushing against your flesh as he traced his way up to your torso, toying with the hem of one of his shirts that always looked so much better on you than him. Pressing his palm against the soft curves of your stomach, he tugged at the waistband of your sleep shorts, causing you to shift your body so he could slide them down your legs. Reaching over towards his lap, you grasped at his boxers, feeling him already half hard under the fabric as you rubbed your hand against him. Javi held your hips, slowly guiding you to straddle him as you kicked your shorts off your feet, leaving them in a pile on the ground. Slowly, you began to grind deeper into his lap, the feeling of him now fully hard beneath you. Gently prompting you to raise your arms over your head, Javi lifted your shirt, leaving you bare as he dropped it next to your shorts.

“Is this okay?” Javi rasped, pressing languid kisses against your neck and collarbone as you ran your hands against the width of his broad shoulders.

“Of course, baby.” Your reply low and horse as you began to drag the fabric of his boxers lower and lower, finally letting his cock spring free as his waistband pushed past. You brought your palm to your mouth, licking a long, wet strip across it before wrapping it around his length, thumbing over the precum already leaking from his tip. Javi tilted his head against the back of the couch as you twisted your wrist, stroking his cock, letting out a hushed moan before sitting back up to watch you.

“You’re fucking perfect, Osita. I don’t deserve you.” He dug his fingertips into the soft flesh of your ass, his sweet, brown eyes locked on yours as you pressed against him, nibbling at his ear.

“You deserve everything, Javi. I could give you everything in the world and it still wouldn’t be enough.” Javi grasped at your face, cupping your cheeks as he pressed his lips against yours in a deep, intense kiss, his voice shaky and lustful as his mouth parted with yours before he spoke.

“I don’t need anything besides you, Osita. Eres mi todo. Estás todo lo que necesito. (You are my everything. You’re all I’ll ever need.) He shuttered, letting out a low groan as you continued to rub your hand along his length, Javi now reaching down to trace lazy circles around your clit before dipping his fingers inside your wet heat. His fullness made you whimper, wrapping tighter around his cock as you stroked him, now bucking your hips against his hand as his fingers curled, bumping against the spongy spot that made you lose control. “Does that feel good, sweet girl? Fuck, you’re so wet.

“Mhmmmmm.” You gasped, rapidly nodding your head as his digits pulsed inside you, your cunt already drenched, desperate to feel the fullness of his dick, despite the thickness of his fingers. Carefully, you lifted your hips, moving yourself closer to him as you ran your fingers through the soft ends of his sleepy curls. Sitting up on your knees, Javi removed his hand as he watched you hover over him, his palms roaming to your hips as you guided his tip through your folds, collecting your arousal before lining him up with your entrance. His jaw went slack as you lowered down on to him, taking your time as you savored the stretch of every sweet inch until you had bottomed out at his base.

“Fuckkk, baby.” He mewled, gently guiding his hands against your hips as you dragged yourself up along his length before headfully sinking back down, the tip of his cock bumping against your cervix with each movement. Javi nipped at your neck, trailing hot, wet kisses down your collarbone before stopping at your breasts, flicking this tongue along each of your pebbled nipples as you pushed deeper into his lap, whimpering at his touch. “My sweet girl, always taking me so well, like you were fucking made for me, baby. God, you’re so fucking gorgeous.” Javi pulled you in tighter, caging his chest against yours as his arms wrapped around the small of your back as he rested his face in the crook of your neck. “Fuck, I love you so much, Osita.” His words were desperate and needy against your bare skin, digging your fingers into his dark curls as you swirled your hips around his cock.

“I love you too, Javi. More than anything.” You moaned as felt Javi shift his weight, thrusting upwards as he buried himself deep inside you. His fullness had you digging your nails into the nape of his neck, your body melting into his with each push and pull against each other. You could feel the all too familiar tingle creeping up your legs and through the base of your spine as Javi’s hand found its way to circle around your clit, already throbbing as the curled hair around his base brushed against your sensitive nerves. The lewd noises of your moans and tangled bodies drowned out the sounds of the TV behind you, practically hearing how wet you were as Javi cock slipped in and out of your heat, his pace pounding as he punched into you. You could feel your walls beginning to tighten around him, arousal pooling in your belly, Javi knowing you were close as you whimpered into the crook of his neck. “Fuck baby, don’t stop- ahhhh- please don’t stop, I’m so close.”

“I know, baby, I know. Let go for me, Osita. Wanna feel you soak my lap before I fuck you full of me. Cum for me baby, it’s okay, I’ve got you.” Javi’s fingers rubbed faster along your clit as you rolled your hips, sinking yourself deeper onto his cock with each thrust, your vision going white as you could feel yourself come undone.

“Javi, Javi- fuck- Javi, Jav-ahhhhhh.” You could feel yourself gush around him, crying out his name as you reached your high, your legs shaking and fingers digging into his skin, pleasure flowing through your veins.

“That’s it, Hermosa. Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum too, fuck myself so deep inside you. My perfect girl. Mierda- Quiero que seas mío para siempre, mi amor. Solo tú, por siempre y para siempre. (Shit- I want you to be mine forever, my love. Only you, forever and always). Fuck me, I- fuckkkk.” Javi hissed as he buried himself deep in your hilt, spilling every drop of his spend against your walls. You could feel the mixture of the both of you dripping down your thighs, soaking Javi’s lap as you slumped into his body, your heart racing as the damp curls of his hair pressed against your shoulder. You both sat there for a moment, letting your chests rise and fall together in sync as you came to. “Fuck me, Osita. I could stay like this forever, baby.”

“You and me both. Although, I feel like that would make things awfully inconvenient for the both of us.” Your soft, sleepy giggles making Javi smile as he ran his fingers though the twisted ends of your hair. Carefully, you lifted yourself up, hissing at the loss of Javi inside you.

“Thank you, Osita.” Javi whispered, tenderly circling his thumb along your jaw as you curled up next to him.

“For what?”

“Just- fuck, you’re so good to me. I don’t know what I’d do without you. So, I just- thank you. Thank you for being everything I need.” Planting a gentle kiss on your forehead, Javi pulled you tighter, holding you in his arms as you leaned against him.

“I’ll always be here for you, Javi. I promise.”

You hoped he knew. That he knew your words were true. That when the time came for him to open up to you, letting you into the painful past that loomed above him, that you wouldn’t run. You would be right by his side, just as you were right now.

“Well good morning, Sleeping Beauty.” Javi chuckled as you twisted in the passenger seat, stretching your arms over your head, scrunching your face, letting out a lengthy yawn.

“Fuck, how long was I asleep for? How much longer do we have left? Sorry, I wasn’t planning on sleeping that long, I just wanted to take a nap for a little while we drove.” You ran your hands over your face, looking out at the bright Texas sun shining over the neat suburban neighborhood you now found yourself driving through. Javi reached over across the center console, rubbing his hand along your thigh as he chuckled to himself.

“Baby, I knew from the moment you fell asleep you were gonna be out for the rest of the drive, it’s okay. I was just worried I was gonna have to wake you up in the Murphy’s driveway.” You grumbled as you looked over at Javi, giving him a playful swat against his arm, shaking your head, now emerging from your post nap fog.

“Well if we weren't up fucking at 2:30 in the morning, perhaps I wouldn’t be so tired, hmmmm?”

Javi rolled his eyes as you poked fun at how the both of you had found yourselves last night, trying to ease Javi’s sleeplessness. While your solution had worked enough to ease him back to bed, it had now left you wide awake, wondering what had been going through Javi’s head, torturing him enough to keep him up. It had also meant that the two of you had slept in much longer than you intended, leaving later than planned for Steve and Connie’s. The two of you had quickly packed your things and hit the road, stopping to grab lunch on the way before you found yourself dead asleep next to Javi for the last hour and a half of your journey to San Antonio. With only a few minutes now left in your drive, you peered out the window, admiring the houses that lined the quiet streets of the Murphy’s neighborhood.

“This is a cute subdivision.” You smiled over at Javi, admiring the houses, charming and inviting as they were freshly decorated from Halloween.

“Yeah, it is pretty nice.” He grinned back, wrapping his palm around your thigh, giving your leg a little squeeze. He took a deep breath, his voice now shifting in tone, becoming more shaky and nervous. “Would you uh- would you, um, wanna live in a neighborhood like this?”

“Maybe. I don’t know, the houses are all really close together. I spent so much of my life in the city, and even at my house growing up, everything always felt so cramped. After coming here, especially after seeing your ranch, I don’t know, I would love to be somewhere with more space. But that’s a big ask, so, maybe one day if it works out, I guess.” You reached over, rubbing your hand along Javi’s arm, your soft smile meeting his tender gaze as he smirked, nodding to himself.

“Yeah, one day.”

Taking a last turn down one of the neighborhood streets, the two of you pulled up to the quaint two story home belonging to the Murphy’s. Turning off the ignition, Javi paused for a moment, grinning to himself as he ran the hand resting on your leg up to your face, cupping your check as his eyes roamed the length of your body, taking every inch of you in as his sweet brown eyes consumed you. “I love you, Osita.”

“I love you too, Jav.” Both of your heads tilted, your lips gently pressing against one anothers as you traced your hand through Javi’s dark curls, pulling him closer into you. You could feel his smile against your mouth as his tongue barely swiped against your bottom lip, the two of you so lost in the moment, you hadn’t even seen Steve make his way out of the house to greet you, let alone the fact that he was now standing at the driver’s side door, hands on his hips as he watched your impromptu makeout session in Javi’s truck.

“You two lovebirds want help bringin’ your bags in, or do I need to give you a minute?” Steve chuckled to himself as you and Javi shot up, hearts racing and faces going white hearing his distinct drawl and rapid tapping at the driver’s side window. Taking a deep breath to compose himself, Javi placed one more soft kiss on your forehead before promptly turning around to flip off Steve and opening the driver’s side door. “You two are worse than a pair of horny teenagers, I swear.” You could hear Steve still snickering to himself as you exited out your side of the car, making your way over to find Javi and Steve in a tight hug, lovingly patting each other on the back.

“Fuck off, Murph.” Javi shook his head against Steve’s embrace, pulling away to grab your two bags from the backseat.

“Listen, I’m not the one makin’ out in my driveway.” Steve shrugged as you sheepishly emerged from your side of the truck, smiling at you as grimaced at him.

“He started it…” You glanced over at Javi, you and Steve now both giggling as he pulled you in for a hug.

“Of course he did, wouldn’t put anything past this old bastard. How ya doin’ sweetheart? Good to see the both of you, we’re really glad you guys could make it.

“She’s doing great after the hour and a half nap she took on the way here.” Javi interjected, slamming the truck door behind him, slinging both of your bags over his shoulder.

“Whatever, you meanie. In my defense, I was not planning to sleep that long, and I think Halloween exhaustion got the best of me.” You shot Javi a quick wink, trying to bite down on your lip before turning back to face Steve.

“Listen, I don’t blame ya. I’m fuckin’ exhausted after trick-or-treating with 3 kids, let alone tryin’ to keep ‘em wrangled at school all day. I love those girls, but I don’t think I could've gotten them in my parents car fast enough when they came to pick ‘em up this morning. Here, come on in, I won’t make you stand out in the driveway all day, unless you need to make out more.”

As you stepped into the Murphy home, you were greeted by an abundance of Halloween streamers and banners hanging in the living room and up the stairwell to the second floor, along with a few Barbie dolls and accessories scattered across the entryway, nearly stepping on one as you came through the door. You could smell the sweet scent of something baking in the kitchen as Connie came rushing through the hallway, arms outstretched to greet you and Javi. “Oh it’s so good to see you two, thank you so much for coming!” Connie squeezed you and Javi in a tight hug before she backed away, kicking one of the toys on the floor across the room. “Sorry about the Barbies, I told the girls to clean up before they left for their grandparents this morning but I think all 3 of them are still running on a sugar high from last night and that obviously didn’t happen.”

“Thank you so much for having us! Don’t worry about it at all, I totally understand! Javi was just telling me on the way over how much he was hoping the girls had Barbies he could play with anyways!” The 3 of you laughed as Javi rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as you gave him a smirk and a little nudge.

“Fuck, I forgot how funny she was Jav.” Steve snickered to himself, picking up one of the Barbies and tossing it across the room into one of the toy baskets along the wall. “Seriously though, we are really glad you guys could make it. Your birthday party was fun as hell, old man. Glad to be close enough to actually see each other and do stuff like this again.”

Before Javi would respond, you all jumped, startled by the sound of the kitchen timer beeping rapidly from the other room. “Oh crap, sorry, I gotta grab the cupcakes out of the oven!” Connie grimaced apologetically, making her way back to the kitchen.

“Do you need any help?” You asked, excited to spend more time with Connie.

“Oh my gosh actually if you could help with frosting the cupcakes that would be amazing. I made these yesterday for Olivia and Abby’s class parties, and I had no idea it was gonna take so long and was worried I wasn’t going to have enough time for all of them before the party! Thank you!”

“Of course!” You replied, grinning at her before following her lead to the kitchen, giving a little wave as you disappeared around the hall, looking back at Steve and Javi. “Have fun, you two.”

Steve paused for a moment until the both of you were out of sight, waiting to forcefully slap his hand against Javi’s chest, making him groan from the unexpected pain.

“What the fuck was that for, you jackass?” Javi winced, glaring at Steve.

“Where the fuck’s the ring, man?! Steve hissed through gritted teeth, looking back at Javi in disappointment. “I thought you were gonna fuckin’ do it after you got back from Chicago and met her family?! I thought everything was all good with- oh shit, did something happen with the ho-”

“Shhhhhh! You fuckin’ idiot, please, talk louder, I don’t think the people at the end of the street could hear you.” Javi looked around the corner, clenching his jaw, praying that you hadn’t heard anything from the kitchen.

“I’m not that fuckin’ loud… Shit, what the fuck happened then?” Steve grumbled, looking over at Javi with concern.

“Can we maybe talk about proposal plans somewhere that’s not right by the woman I’m trying to propose to?” Running his thumb over his balled fists, Javi’s eyes darted back and forth, staying on the lookout for your return.

“Fine, fine, fine. I’ll show you where the guest room is and then you can tell me.” Steve motioned up the stairs, Javi trailing behind with both your bags draped around his shoulders

“Was I really that fuckin’ loud?”

“…Have you heard yourself talk?”

“So how’s everything been going at work? There definitely was a full moon sometime in the past week because things were crazy at the hospital, I’m sure they had to be equally as bad at an elementary school.” You and Connie giggled as you squeezed a dollop of orange frosting onto one of the cupcakes before taking one of the little bags to pipe on eyes and a mouth to make it look like a pumpkin.

“Oh my god, I think it must have been on Wednesday, I had a boy cut another girl’s hair with scissors and then had to call another parent because her daughter bit another kid at recess pretending to play werewolves. I felt really bad we didn’t come last night, I was exhausted after our Halloween party, I fell asleep on poor Javi at like, 8 o’clock.”

Although you found yourself laughing with Connie again, you couldn’t help but shake the uncomfortable feeling you had in your gut as you thought about after you had woken up in the middle of the night to find Javi wide awake and distressed. You carefully set down your spatula, taking a deep breath before glancing over at Connie, still frosting next to you. “Hey, uh, Connie? Can, um- Can I ask you something?” Connie immediately sensed the shift in your tone, putting down her cupcake.

“Of course, honey. What’s going on?”

“Did um, did- Did Steve ever- ever talk to you? About all the stuff that happened in Colombia? I mean like, I know you were there, but I don’t know. Sorry, I don’t know what I’m trying to ask, this is probably way too personal, I-” You could feel yourself shrinking, retracting in embarrassment at your overly intrusive question, unable to finish your thought before Connie cut you off, placing her hand on your shoulder.

“Oh, honey…” Her eyes were filled with sympathy as they looked back at yours, letting out a sigh before she responded. “Did something happen?” You began to nod your head no, even though you could feel the words yes burning in your throat. You took another shaky breath, trying to hold back the tears now welling in your eyes as you spoke.

“No I mean- well, yeah, I guess. Last night, I woke up and Javi wasn’t in bed. He was out in the living room and I could tell that something was bothering him. I don’t know- maybe it was nothing. I just- when my brothers came back from active duty, there were a lot of things that kind of just went unspoken. I knew it was hard for them to talk about. Charlie handled it okay, but my brother Patrick never wanted to talk to anyone about what happened, and it just- I don’t know Connie, I don’t think Javi would ever do anything stupid like he did, but- fuck- it scares me sometimes. I know Javi’s done things that he’s probably not proud of, and I get it’s part of the nature of what his job was. I don’t care. I really don’t. People do shitty things when they’re put in shitty situations. But he never talks about it. Ever. Does… Does he not trust me? I care about him so much, Con. More than anything. I get so worried about him.”

Your tears were now streaming down your cheeks, leaving your face wet as you wiped the back of your hand across your skin to try and do some form of damage control before Connie embraced you, pulling you in for a hug, tightly wrapping her arms around you. “Oh sweetheart. Of course he trusts you. When Steve came back, he was a mess. I don’t think it really all hit him until he was finally home. I guess you’re right, it was different because I was there, but even then, there were things that happened that I didn’t know about. After begging and begging him, I finally got him to go to see someone and it really helped, but even now, there’s times where it still creeps up on him. Honey, Javi loves you so much. I didn’t think I’d ever live to see the day he was in love as he is with you. If he’s anything like Steve, he just doesn't wanna hurt you.”

You sniffled, taking a step back to wipe your nose with your sleeve, your lip trembling as you tried to keep from crying harder than you already were. “But that’s what hurts, Connie. It hurts me to think he has to keep this from me, like I’m gonna think less of him for what he’s been through.”

“I know. Have you talked to him about it?” Connie’s voice was gentle and sweet, rubbing her hand along your arm as she listened to what you needed to get off your chest.

“No… I guess I should have. I never wanted to pry. I know it’s hard to talk about, I just- I wanna be there for him Connie. I don’t want him to have to do it all on his own.” You shifted your gaze to the ground, guilt washing over you. After Patrick, you couldn’t live with the idea of letting Javi try to suffer through his past alone. You loved him more than anything- and even the slightest thought of going through anything similar to what had happened to Patrick again with Javi was almost paralyzing.

“I think the best thing you can do is to go talk to him.” Looking back up, you saw Connie smiling at you, trying to convince you that everything would be okay, even if it felt like it wasn’t. “Why don’t you go find him? Party’s starting soon anyways, you can go change into your costumes and come down wherever you’re ready. I’ll be just fine with the cupcakes, tell Steve can put himself to work frosting.” The both of you grinned as you tried to wipe your tears, nodding slowly in agreement.

“Thanks, Connie.” You whispered into her shoulder as you pulled her in for a hug before heading up the stairs to find where Javi and Steve had gone. It didn’t take you long to find the pair, hearing their voices carry through the hallway from the slightly cracked door of the guest bedroom. You were about to knock and interrupt their conversation, stopping yourself with your fist barely touching the door as you tried to make out what they were talking about.

“The offer was in fucking cash, too. I was trying to make it easier so I could speed up the process, but it’s been taking them so goddamn long to close on everything so I can finally go sign the fucking paperwork.”

“That fuckin’ blows, Jav. I’m sorry. It’s not like she knows any better, though. It’ll still be a huge fuckin’ surprise, I’ll tell you that much.”

“I know. It’s been killing me to wait this long. I just want it to be perfect, Steve. She deserves everything. Honestly, I’m kinda glad it bought me some more time. I need to find a way to get her to see it before everything’s official in case she fucking hates it.”

“Javi. She’s not gonna hate it. Fuck it, tell her Connie and I are lookin’ for somethin’ and we wanted you two to go see it for us. I don’t know, maybe that’s too obvious. Speakin’ of which, I should probably go check to see if she needs anything before this party, I’m already in the fuckin’ dog house for forgettin’ to bring the girl’s trick-or-treatin’ bags to school, I don’t need to be in trouble for anything else.”

What the hell were they talking about? What was Javi signing? Why was it taking so long? What the hell did it have to do with you? Wait… holy fuck. No way… Was he-

Before you could finish your thought, you suddenly realized Steve was making his way towards the door. You quickly rapped your fist against the wood, trying to play off the fact you had been eavesdropping and make it look like you had just unassumingly made your way upstairs, not overhearing the conversation the two were just having.

Knock, knock.

“Hey, it’s me! Uh, Steve, Con wants to know if you can help her with the cupcakes really quick.” You pushed open the door, trying your best to smile at the suspicious pair as Steve shook his head, looking back at Javi.

“It’s always fuckin’ somethin’. I don’t even know what I did wrong this time, I swear.” Steve held up his hands defensively, sliding his way past you in the doorway before heading downstairs, leaving you standing there awkwardly, unsure how to feel after your conversation with Connie and the one you had just overheard.

“Hey, Osita. How’s everything goin’ down there? Sorry, we were just about to come down and- Hey, baby, you okay?” Javi stood up, concern spreading across his face from the strange scrunch in your brow as you stared at the floor.

“Ummmm…” You froze for a moment, unsure of what to do. On the one hand, your conversation with Connie had you ready to confront Javi, to finally work up the courage to ask him about the past life he had tried his best to keep from you. But as you glanced over at him, seeing his sweet brown eyes and stupidly handsome face, remembering the discussion you had just overheard through the doorway, the other hand meant you weren’t at risk of ruining your night that the two of you had been so looking forward to, and right now, the other hand was going to have to be the one you needed to play. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good, I just- I was gonna ask you something but forgot what I was gonna say. I’m sure I’ll remember it eventually.” You smiled at Javi, neither of you completely convinced by your response. “But um, Connie said that people are gonna start getting here soon, so we can change into our costumes if you want.” A smirk slowly stretched across your cheeks as you nodded over to the black duffle bags laying on the bed.

Javi’s grin matched yours quickly, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer against him as you giggled. “You sure we’re not gonna be the only ones dressed up?”

“Well considering it’s a Halloween party and I literally just talked to Connie about what she and Steve are wearing downstairs, I’m gonna give it a pretty confident yes. Worst case, it just looks like you’re wearing a white shirt and vest, Mr. Solo. You stuck up, half-witted, scruffy looking nerf herder.” You raised your eyebrows, playfully poking at his chest. Javi paused, shaking his head at your quote, firing one right back at you as he bit down on his lip.

“You just like me because I’m a scoundrel. There aren’t enough scoundrels in your life.”

“I happen to like nice men.”

“I am a nice man.”

Javi cupped your face, pulling you in for a long, heavy kiss before backing away to unpack your bags, shooting you a quick wink as you rolled your eyes. Jesus, he even found a way to make Star Wars sexy. Just when you thought you couldn’t be anymore in love, Javier Peña never failed to find a way to make you realize you’d never stop falling for him.

After putting in what felt like the 74th bobby pin into your hair after getting the last braid wrapped over your head, you gave yourself a once over in the mirror, pleasantly surprised by how well your costume had turned out. While Javi was disappointed you were adamant you were not going as Princess Leia from Return of the Jedi and showing up in front of a group of strangers at Steve and Connie’s party in her slave costume, you and Javi both agreed that Hoth Princess Leia was definitely the next best look. Staring at you with his puppy dog eyes, Javi had been adamant about waiting with you as you finished getting ready, leaning his hip against the bathroom counter, arms crossed over his chest as he watched you finish the last of your hair and makeup.

“Okay, I think that should stay. All those years of braiding my hair for under my hockey helmet are finally coming in handy for something.” You snickered, pushing the final clip into your hair to hold it into place, giving yourself a once over in the mirror. As you looked yourself down, Javi’s eyes wandered up and down your body just as fast, practically undressing you as fast as you had put your costume on.

“Goddamn, Osita… Fuck, you’re so hot.”

“Me? Jesus Christ, Javi. You put Harrison Ford to shame with how fucking good you look. I like Han Solo better with a mustache anyways.” You licked your tongue against your bottom lip, running your hands along the muscles of his arms, straining against the tight henley shirt he was wearing under his vest. You were no better than Javi, practically having to force yourself to not look in his general direction while you were getting ready to prevent yourself from pouncing on him. But given the lack of chatter downstairs, and the impressive speed at which the two of you had gotten ready, you really couldn’t help yourself. Slowly, you let your hands begin to slip down his arms and across his chest, palming at the denim of his black jeans as he let out a deep groan.

“Hermosa…” He hissed against your neck as you grasped at the bulge now growing under his pants, your other hand now making its way down to undo his belt, the clinking of the metal drowned out by Javi’s heavy panting. You began lowering your body, sliding Javi’s pants and boxers down his thighs as his cock sprang free, his tip already red and leaking with precum. You rested on your knees, face to face with his length as you wrapped your hand around him, slowly stroking him a few times.

“This okay, Captain Solo?” You batted your lashes at him, giving him a wink before letting your spit dribble onto his cock, taking his tip into your mouth and swirling your tongue around it. Curling your fingers around his base, you began to twist your wrist, hollowing out your cheeks as you took him deeper into your mouth.

“Oh, fuck me. Holy shit, Osita.” He moaned, tilting his head back, letting his jaw go slack as your head bobbed back and forth. He gently rested his hand along the side of your face, helping to guide you along his length as you took him deeper and deeper down your throat. “Jesus Christ, baby. Fuck, that feels so good. You look so hot, god fuckin’ dammit.” Javi’s words were labored and shaky as you started to increase your pace, wrapping your free hand around the back of his bare thigh, digging your fingertips into his leg. Feeling the pressure beginning to build in his stomach, Javi began rocking his hips, his jaw completely slack as he looked down at the sight of how well you took him in your mouth, saliva dribbling down your chin as sucked along his cock, hard and heavy on your tongue. “Fuck, Osita. I’m not gonna last much longer. Can I cum like this, baby? Fill up that- fuck- fill up that pretty little mouth of yours?””

You glanced up at him, nodding, your lips still wrapped around his dick, the motions of your head and wrist now becoming faster and sloppier as you watched Javi’s brow scrunch and jaw clench, a sign you knew all too well that he was moments away from coming undone.

“Such a good fucking girl, taking me so well. Fuck, baby- shit- se sientes tan bien, estoy tan cercaaahhhhhh-” (you feel so good, I’m so closeeeee-). The hot ropes of his spend coated the back of your throat, the salty, tangy mix filling your mouth as Javi whined, giving his hips one last push as kept your lips wrapped around him, making sure that you had milked him of every last drop before releasing. Letting your spit and his release fall from the corners of your lips, you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, smirking up at Javi’s blissed out expression. “Jesus Christ, Osita. You’re too fucking good at that. Holy shit. Lemme take care of-“

You held up your hand to stop him as you stood up, your gesture cutting off the rest of his sentence as you helped to pull up his jeans and boxers still resting along his thighs. “I’m allowed to give my hot ass boyfriend blowjobs without anything in return. C’mon, we better get downstairs before Steve walks in on us again.” You pressed up on your tiptoes, planting a quick kiss on Javi’s lips as he reached down to buckle his belt before the two of you tried your best to fix yourself up in the mirror to avoid the inevitable shit Steve was about to give the both of you. Giving Javi a quick nod in the mirror before turning off the light and heading out the door, he gave your ass a playful smack, making you squeal in surprise, making you turn on your heels. Resting his hand on his hip, he beamed at you, biting down on his lip.

“Fuck, I love you.”

“I know.”

The Murphy’s living room had begun to pool with guests as you made your way down the stairs, looking for Steve and Connie amongst the crowd. You and Javi both grabbed a beer from the cooler at the bottom of the stairwell, quickly turning around as you heard Steve’s familiar twang approaching behind you.

“Well I’ll be damned. You got this motherfucker in a costume? He must really love you.” Steve chuckled, shaking Javi by the shoulders. “And Star Wars too?! You asshole, how many times did I try to tell you they were good fuckin’ movies?! You shoulda dressed him up like Jabba the Hut.” You and Steve cackled as Javi rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, and what the fuck are you supposed to be? A sad pirate?” Javi jabbed, poking fun at Steve’s poorly put together costume.

“Listen, Olivia and Abby both wanted to be the Little Mermaid, so we had two Ariel’s, Con was Ursula, Madison was the yellow fish and I didn’t wanna be that annoying ass crab, so pirate it was, asshole.” Steve retorted, punching at Javi’s arm, the two of them laughing at each other like little boys. “Alright, go enjoy yourselves lovebirds, I’ll see ya in a little bit. And Javi?”

“Yeah Murph?”

“You really gotta start checkin’ your pants, buddy.”

Javi’s cheeks turned red, his eyes darting down to his zipper, still all the way undone from your activities upstairs, the both of you grimacing at each other, sheepishly avoiding eye contact with Steve as he disappeared into the crowd.

It really wasn’t a surprise to Javi how many friends the Murphy’s had already managed to make in their time since moving to San Antonio. Their house was quickly crowded with all sorts of people- Steve and Connie’s co-workers, neighbors, parents of friends Olivia and Abby had made at school, regardless of where the party goers were from, everyone had collectively agreed to make adult Halloween just as fun as any kids. You and Javi were having a great time catching up with Steve and Connie, as well as meeting some of their other close friends, one of Connie’s neighbors being an elementary school teacher, giving you two plenty to commiserate about from the hellish week it had been. It didn’t take long for the party to move outside, Steve drunkenly deciding that he needed to make a bonfire, despite adamant argument that with the amount of alcohol Steve had in his system, he was going to spontaneously combust if he got close enough to a flame. Javi, sober enough to still help his friend make rational decisions, was glad that Steve was happy to let him build the bonfire.

“The force is strong with you, Han Solo.” You giggled, Javi wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pressing a soft kiss into your forehead as the two of you stared into the flickering orange glow of the fire pit.

“Not strong enough to extinguish Steve if he got close enough to it. Hey, I got shit all over my hands, I’m gonna go to the bathroom and wash ‘em off. You need anything while I’m inside, Princess?” You smiled as you nudged Javi at the nickname he had been adamant about using since you had put on your costume.

“I’m good, thank you. I’m gonna go wait over on the swingset so I don’t completely reek of bonfire later.” Javi nodded as he slid his hand down your back, giving your ass a quick squeeze before making his way through the crowd, heading towards the house. Surprised no one else had capitalized on the chance to sit down, you wandered over to the wooden playset at the corner of the Murphy’s backyard, taking a seat on one of the plastic swings, kicking your feet against the grass below.

“Hey, there she is! How goes it, Leia?” Taking a few long strides through the yard, Steve was now quickly making his way over to you, stumbling over his own feet as he somehow managed to sit himself down on the swing next to you. You tried your best not to laugh at Steve’s drunken state, but his current antics weren’t making it very easy on you.

“I could ask the same to you. You doin’ okay there, pirate?”

“Fuck sweetheart, I’m doin’ fuckin’ great. Where’s the asshole?”

“Inside, I’m sure he’ll be back out soon.” You snickered at Steve watching the beer dribble down his chin from the overly confident swig he had taken.

“Good, I don’t need ‘em right now. You were the one I was lookin’ for.” Steve pointed in your general direction, but clearly wasn’t aware enough to hit his target head on.

“Me?” You laughed, pointing back to yourself.

“Yes, you. You talk to him yet?”

“About?” You paused, wondering if Steve had any inkling of the conversation you were planning to have earlier, or if he was drunkenly deciding you and Javi needed to discuss something else.

“You know about what. I talked to Connie earlier. I figured I owed it to you to come talk to you about it, too.”

Your heart began to race, that uncomfortable feeling once again beginning to churn in your stomach as you thought about the things you and Connie had discussed earlier. “Steve, you don’t owe me anything, I-”

“No, I do. Hold on a second.” Steve turned away, letting out a hearty burp, pouding on his chest before facing back towards you. “Sorry, I’ve been holdin’ that in for like 10 minutes, I needed to let it out. Anyways… What was I sayin’? Oh shit, yeah, the grumpy bastard. Listen, sweetheart. I know it’s gonna fuckin’ suck, but you gotta be the one to bring it up and talk to him about it. If I know anything about that motherfucker, it’s that he will bottle things up for way too fuckin’ long until someone gets it out of him. He’s a good guy. He says he’s not, but he is. Saved my ass more times than I can count. That job made us do some fucked up shit neither of us are fuckin’ proud of. But that doesn’t mean he gets to keep it from you. I swear to God, that asshole is so fuckin’ in love with you, it makes me sick. You make him so happy. He just doesn’t wanna fuck up the best thing that’s ever happened to him.”

You weren’t sure if it was the right thing to do, but in that moment, all you could manage was to reach over to the swing next to you, pulling Steve in for a hug as you tried to keep your tears from staining his shirt. “Thanks, Steve.” You whispered, leaning back into your seat, using your sleeve to wipe the wetness from your cheeks.

“I know you love him too. You deserve to know. Don’t let him be a stubborn jackass to you, okay? I’m bein’ serious. I should be the one thankin’ you though, honey. In all the years I’ve known him, I never thought I’d see ‘em this happy. I promise I won’t get this drunk at your wedding.” Steve winked, straining to push himself up out of the swing, somehow managing to catch his balance as he stumbled into the grass.

“You do make a very inspirational drunk, Steve.” You laughed to yourself, looking up at him with a genuine smile. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Alright, enough sap, I’m gonna go get another fuckin’ beer, I’ll see ya around okay?”

“Okay, maybe a water would be good for you, too.”

“Water’s for pussies.”

“Water’s good for people who don’t want raging hangovers tomorrow.”

“Pirates are always drunk, so I’ll be fuckin’ fine.”

“Whatever you say, Steve.”

It didn’t take long for Javi to return, easily spotting his tall, broad body making his way through the crowd, beaming at you as he walked over to the swings. You tried your best to smile back at him with the uneasy pounding in your chest quickly building, feeling your heartbeat in your throat. “Hey, Hermosa. Sorry it took so long, I ended up stopping to get another drink on the-“

“Do- Javi, do you trust me?”

Your words were quiet and blunt as they rolled off your tongue, your eyes peeled on your feet kicking through the grass beneath you.

Javi’s brow immediately scrunched in confusion, completely off put by your question and demeanor. “Do I- Baby, what are you talking about? Of course I trust you? What’s going on?” Setting down his drink, he began making his way next to you in frantic, worried strides.

“Then why won’t you talk to me about it?” Your eyes darted from the ground up to his, his sweet brown eyes swirling with confusion at the firm tone of your voice and desperation growing across your face.

“Talk to you about what? Hermosa, what’s going on? Is everything ok-”

“Why won’t you talk to me about Colombia?”

Javi took a step back. He wasn’t sure if it was out of defense, or absolute shock from the words that had just fallen out of your mouth. He stared at you for a moment, his jaw locking as you could see how hard he swallowed, trying to bide his time as he calculated his response.

“Osita… It’s not that simple.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“I don’t understand why we’re talking about this. Baby, if this is because of last night, you don’t need to worry about me, can we please just drop it?” The two of you faced each other in an unspoken standoff, Javi’s hands now resting on his hips as you crossed your arms over your chest. You had tried so hard to be patient, but in the moment, it was like all of your frustration was beginning to boil over.

“That’s exactly why we’re talking about this, Javi. Because I fucking worry about you. All the time. I’ve tried so hard to be patient. I’ve never, ever tried to get you to talk about it because I know it’s fucking hard. But last night, you’re up at 2 A.M, wandering around the apartment, and I’m begging you to tell me what’s wrong and you won’t fucking do it. I’m not an idiot, Javi. I can’t live in this weird in between space in your life where you pretend your past doesn’t exist when I know it still fucking haunts you. Why won’t you just talk to me about it?”

Javi could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his palms sweating as they clenched in tight fists at his sides. He tried so desperately to find an answer, something, anything he could tell you to try and justify his choices. The choices he had kept from you. The choices he couldn’t forgive himself for. “Because, I- fuck- because, goddamnit, I just- I was a terrible fucking person, okay? The things I did, they were-”

“What? Fucked up? Painful? Shitty? Of course they fucking were, Javi. You were literally in Colombia chasing down Pablo Fucking Escobar. What did you think I thought you were doing down there? Filing away paperwork? You don’t think I know that you did things you regret? That you’ve hurt people? Made choices that hurt innocent people who didn’t deserve it? I know Javi, I fucking know. I watched my brothers come back from the same goddamn thing. I tried so hard to give them space, to let them come to terms with the fucked up things they did on their own, and you know what fucking happened? One of them’s fucking dead because of it. I can’t let it happen again. I don’t care about what you did. It doesn’t make you a bad person. But you can’t try and hide it from me and pretend like it doesn’t exist. I wanna spend the rest of my life with you. But I can’t if you don’t trust me. Please trust me. Please. I love you so much, Javi. I can’t lose you.”

Javi stood in silence, as the both of you fought the tears streaming down your cheeks. He wasn’t sure if he had just been hit in the gut with a giant sucker punch, or if the weight of the world had just been lifted off his shoulders. He truly didn’t know how to feel. He wasn’t even sure if he had heard you correctly. Did you really just tell him that you knew about the fucked up, terrible things he had done and that you didn’t care? That you still fucking loved him? All you wanted was for him to trust that you wanted to be there for him? He could feel his hands trembling and lip quivering as he tried to find the words to speak.

“Osita… I- fuck, baby. Osita, I’m so sorry. I trust you with my fucking life. You- You don’t deserve to have to deal with with all the fucked up things I’ve done. I don’t wanna scare you away, baby. You’re the best thing that’s ever fucking happened to me and I was so terrified if you found out about the terrible person I used to be, you’d leave. It’s not fair to you, I can’t expect you to carry the weight of all the fucking things I’ve done, too. I’m so sorry.” Quietly, Javi sat down next to you on the empty swing, burying his hands in his face. Gently, you reached over, pulling his hands away, forcing him to look at you.

“Whatever you tell me isn’t gonna scare me away. I promise. The only thing that’s gonna scare me is when you try to pretend you’re okay when you’re not. Javi… Javi, I just- I just wanna be there for you. I don’t want you to have to do it alone. I’d do anything for you. I trust you more than anyone. You’re my best friend. I just- fuck- I just want you to trust that I’ll always be there for you to. I promise.”

And just like that, the last brick holding up the wall between you and Javier Peña collapsed. There was nothing left to run from. Nothing left to hide. After he returned home, he was a changed man. He had hated the person he had become. Maybe there was a part of him that didn’t want to be loved, because he didn’t believe that he deserved to be. But then, there was you.

You.

You had taken everything he had known and changed his life for the better. You had become his better half, the person he loved more than anyone in the world. You had proved he was worthy of more than just existing- you had proved to Javi that he was worth the love and happiness you had promised him from the moment you had come into his life and made it worth living for.

“You promise?”

“I promise. Always.”

The way Javi grabbed you and wrapped you in his arms, grasping at the back of your shirt as he pulled you in tighter, feeling the hot breath of his silent sobs against your shoulder told you everything you needed to know. You didn’t know much, but if there was one thing you did know, it was that you loved Javier Peña more than life itself. As quickly as it had felt like your life had fallen apart, he had come into it and picked up the broken pieces to put it back together. And on an October night in San Antonio, sitting on an old wooden swing set in the Murphy’s backyard, you hoped that Javi knew that you would always be there to pick up the shattered parts of his past, too.

You weren’t sure how many hours had passed as you sat hand in hand in the swings with Javi as you listened to anything and everything he had to say. Long after the backyard was empty, and the bonfire had faded to embers and ashes, and the only one left awake besides the two of you was Connie, trying to drag Steve back inside from the plastic lawn chair he had passed out on, you finally made your way up to bed for the best sleep the two of you had in a very, very long time. Your goodbyes to the Murphy’s had been short and sweet- Connie exhausted from the late night, and Steve barley coherent from how hungover he was, you were still both so thankful the two of you had made the journey out to see them, and the both of you, just as grateful for the sweet and supportive life long friends you knew the Murphy’s would become. Most of your drive back to Laredo was spent in a comfortable silence, the golden sunrise spilling through the windows of Javi’s truck as you cruised down the highway, Javi’s hand never leaving yours, your fingers intertwined together as his thumb gently rubbed against your soft skin and your head rested against his broad shoulder.

“How are you feeling about seeing your mom today?” You asked, lightly squeezing his arm as you smiled up at him, now exiting off the freeway quickly approaching the cemetery where you planned to meet Chucho to celebrate Día De Los Muertos, trying your best to comfort Javi as he prepared to see his mom’s gravesite for the first time since her funeral almost a decade ago. Javi let out a quiet sigh, his grip tightening just a little tighter around your hand as he looked over at you, a surprisingly calm look flooding his face.

“I’m actually doing okay. Better than I would have thought. I think I was always so worried that she wouldn’t be proud of me and the man I’d become after she was gone. I um- I finally think that she’d be proud of me now.” He glanced over at you, his smile soft and tender as he soaked in the reason for his pride sitting right beside him.

You noticed Chucho’s truck as you pulled up to park along the edge of the small cemetery, Chucho excitedly waving you down as you both hopped out of the car. Walking around to Javi, you were quick to grab his hand, giving him a reassuring grip as the two of you made your way through the gravestones along the thin cobblestone path towards Chucho, already arranging the items he had collected for Lucia’s ofrenda.

“Hola, niños.” Chucho grinned, wrapping his arms around the both of you. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Thanks for letting me be a part of today, Chucho. I know… Well, I just- I’m really honored to- just, thank you.” Chucho wasted no time pulling you into your own hug, his rough and worn hands holding you by the shoulders as he looked at you with misty eyes.

“Mija, I should be thanking you. If it wasn’t for you, I don’t know if we would all be here today. Lucia’s last wish to me was that I would promise to make sure Javier was happy. Now hija, I think my sweet Lucia can rest a little easier knowing someone else has already fulfilled my promise for me.” As the two of you spoke, you hadn’t noticed as Javi had quietly stepped over to his mother’s gravestone, crouching next to it, his fingers delicately tracing along the engraved letters of her name, his other hand holding one of the marigold flowers Chucho had brought with him. The two of you watched quietly as Javi sat next to his mom, gently placing the flower on the shiny stone as he spoke.

“Hola, mamá. Te extrañé. Siento haber tarado tanto.” (Hi mom. I missed you. I’m sorry I took so long). Javi’s voice trembled as he took a deep breath in, slowly exhaling as his hand rested on the stone, warm from the sun, shining brightly in the blue November sky. “Que estaba asustada de de verte porque estaba orgullosala de la persona en la que me había convertido. Que no quería decepcionarte. Tenía miedo mucho, mamá. Me sentí como si todo se derrumbase. solo quería olvidar. Pero entonces…” (I was scared to see you because I wasn’t proud of the person I’d become. I didn’t want to disappoint you. I was so scared, mom. I felt like I let everyone down. I just wanted to forget. But then…). Javi turned his head, seeing you and Chucho, arm in arm, a smile growing across his face as looked back at the two people in life he loved the most. He took an extra moment to stare at you and the soft grin spread between your cheeks, basking in the comfort and warmth of the woman who had forever changed his life for the better. “Pero entonces, mamá, La conocí. Que es perfecta. Nunca supe que podías amar tanto a alguien. Ella es lo mejor que me ha pasado. La habrías amado.ella es una maestra, tambien. A veces me pregunto qué ve en mí. No sé qué hice para merecerse. voy a pedirle que se case conmigo.Cuidaré bien de ella. Ella se merece todo lo que le pueda dar y más. Espero que estés orgulloso de mí, mamá. te echo mucho, Pero le juro a usted, al fin soy feliz. Te amo, mamá.” (But then, mom, I met her. She is perfect. I never knew you could love someone so much. She is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You would have loved her. She’s a teacher too. Sometimes, I wonder what she sees in me. I don’t know what I did to deserve her. I’m gonna ask her to marry me. I’m gonna take such good care of her. She deserves everything I can give her and more. I hope you’re proud of me, mamá. I miss you so much, but I promise you, I’m finally happy. I love you, mom.)

With a gentle nudge from Chucho, you softly stepped behind Javi, gently placing your hands on his shoulders before he rose up and you wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head against his chest as he wiped away the tears welling behind his eyes. Staring down at Lucia’s gravestone, Javi ran his hand through your hair, carefully planting a kiss against your head and burying his nose in the soft waves of your hair.

“I wish I would have had the chance to have met you, Mrs. Peña. I would have had someone else to commensurate with over all of the crazy teaching stories I’m sure the both of us have. Maria, Estelle and Linda all miss you a lot too, but I’m sure they haven’t changed a bit. Thanks for raising such a good son. I don’t know what I would do without him. I know he says that he doesn’t know what he did to deserve me, but I really think it should be the other way around. I promise I’ll look out for him.” You tried your best to smile through your soft sobs, looking up at Javi, tears streaming down his wet cheeks. It wasn’t long before Chucho had snuck up behind you, patting each of you on the back before smiling down at Lucia, too.

“Estos dos están tan enamorados, Lucia. Tal vez más que tú y yo. Ella es una buena chica. Estoy muy contenta de que ella sea parte de nuestra familia. Finalmente tendremos a nuestros nietos, también.” (These two are so in love, Lucia. Maybe even more than you and I. She is a great girl. I am so happy she is a part of our family. We are finally going to get our grandchildren, too). Chucho winked, nudging Javi in the side, forcing him to laugh through his tears, shaking his head at his dad’s comment. “Now, no more tears, you two. This is a happy day. Your mamá is smiling down on you, and I can almost hear here scolding me to keep you from crying anymore. C’mon, let’s decorate and eat, I even brought pozole.”

The three of you spent the next hour decorating Lucia’s grave with bright orange and gold cempazuchitl (marigold flowers) and little Calaveras (sugar skulls) painted in bold colors and refined details, sharing and laughing about Javi’s favorite memories of his mother while snacking on the Pozole Chucho had brought to share. For the first time in a long time, Javi no longer felt guilt and grief when he thought about his mom- her memory filled him with love and joy. He wasn’t the same bitter, broken man he was when he had said his final goodbyes to his mother all those years ago. While he wished he could change the past, the reality of the present, and his future finally brought him peace, knowing he could be proud of the man he had become, thanks to you.

As Javi helped Chucho to clean up the extra flowers and decorations he had brought, you couldn’t help yourself from reaching at the wrinkled photo you had shoved in your pocket as you had packed up to leave from the Murphy’s this morning. You carefully took it out, holding it gently in your hands as you tried to uncrinkle the edges. “You ready, Hermosa?” Javi called out, now a few steps ahead of you, making his way back towards the truck. “Hermosa?” He asked again, thinking perhaps you hadn’t heard him the first time. When he was greeted by silence again, he looked back to see you staring at the crumpled photo in your hands.

“I um- I know that he isn’t buried here, and uh, if you don’t want me to, it’s okay- but um- is it, is it alright if I leave a couple flowers for Patrick?” You sniffed, a tear dropping down on the photo of the two of you, Patrick holding you in a headlock as you laughed with a wide, toothy grin, drowning in one of his old Blackhawks jerseys that you were so excited to wear because it belonged to him.

“Of course, Osita. Of course it is.” Javi smiled at you softly, turning back around with the tub of leftover decorations, making his way towards you. Quietly, you walked back over to Lucia’s gravestone, carefully setting down the picture of you and Patrick next to it, putting a few marigolds over top of it so it stayed pinned in place from the warm breeze.

“I miss you, asshole. You deserved so much better. I hope you don’t still think that I hate you. I mean, I do, but you know what I mean. Honestly, you were lucky you didn’t have to live through the Blackhawks losing in the playoffs this year, that fucking sucked. Mom and Dad and Charlie and David all miss you too. I finally went back home to see them. It still wasn’t the same without you there, but I know you don’t hurt anymore. I hope that you don’t hurt anymore. I love you, Patrick. Crack open a cold one up there for me, okay?” Trying your best to not to uncontrollably sob, you sniffled, wiping the tears running down your face as you leaned your head against Javi’s chest. He ran his hand along your back as he held you tighter, letting you take a moment to get everything out before you took a deep breath, nodding your head as if to signify to Javi and yourself that you were okay.

“You okay, Osita? We can take all the time you need, baby.” Javi whispered, pressing a gentle kiss into your shoulder.

“No, I’m okay. I just- I wanted to do something for him, too. Thanks, Javi. I love you.”

“I know.”

After several more long hugs goodbye with Chucho, you and Javi began your journey back home, marveling at the beautiful sunset, painting the sky with bright pinks and oranges and the warmth and comfort of Lucia and Patrick’s presence. You were so lost in thought staring out at the fading sky, you hadn’t even noticed that Javi had detoured from your usual route home until he had said something to you. “You okay if we make a quick pit stop on the way home, Osita?” You nodded, smiling at the golden glow covering his face. It wasn’t long until you were veering off the main road, Javi turning to make his way down a tree lined gravel pathway with a “For Sale” sign posted in front of it.

“For sale?” You questioned, looking over at Javi before peering out your window to watch the trees lining the path pass by you as the gravel crunched under the truck’s tires.

“Yeah, uh- I was talking with Steve at the party yesterday and he- uh, one of his buddies said he was looking to get out of the city- wanted a plot of land to build on. Said he had heard good things about Laredo but didn’t have time to go check things out for himself, so I told him I would go take a look around and let Steve know what I thought.” Javi replied, trying his best to sound nonchalant as you shrugged before looking back out the window. As you reached the end of the path, the trees opened to reveal a beautiful, lush green field, the sun setting perfectly along the rolling hills of the horizon in front of you. Turning off the ignition, Javi gestured for the both of you to get out of the truck so you could go take a look around.

“Jav… This is beautiful.” You marveld, grinning as you took in the beauty of the open space drenched in golden sunset.

“You like it?” Javi grinned, laughing as you spun around, the gentle breeze blowing your hair in and out of your face.

“Oh my God, yeah. Tell Steve’s friend to get on this place ASAP before I scrounge up every penny I have and sell one of my kidneys on the black market to buy it from him. There doesn’t even need to be a house, I’ll just lay in the empty field, perfectly content.” You giggled, letting out a happy sigh as you grabbed Javi’s hand, leaning your head against his arm as you admired the sun slipping away below the horizon.

“I’ll take that as a yes then. He said he’s wanting to build a house here, do you think- do you think that he would think it’s got enough space? It’s not too far from everything? I know it’s a little farther from downtown and a longer drive to work- if uh, if he works by where we do, you don’t think that’d be a problem? For him?” Javi squeezed back, trying his best not to stumble over his words.

“Are you kidding me? It’s literally perfect out here, Javi. Could you imagine getting to see this every night? He better put some big windows on this house so he can get all of the sunlight, oh my god, it would be so pretty. It’s not even that far from everything, and the view makes the extra drive time worth every minute. I know it’s probably a far way off, and we haven’t really talked about it, but I would love to live at a place like this someday.”

Javi smiled to himself, looking down at you as you rested against him, soaking in every ounce of you as he shifted his arm to wrap around your waist, gently rubbing his thumb along the soft hem of your shirt before letting out a content sigh.

“Yeah. Me too.”

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 10 months ago

Note

AITA for sleeping with a 20 year old?

tw: mentions of potential grooming, age gap relationships, nsft/nsfw, vague discussions of sex

So, me (38m) and my wife (39f) are in an open relationship. Basically, we’re both bisexual and not quite ready to limit our sex lives to one person yet. So, we decided to allow friends with benefits situations outside of our relationship. No romantic stuff, no dating, just sex.

In January, my wife went to stay at her best friend’s (28f) house and have some fun together. I don’t mind at all, I was kind of glad to have our apartment to myself for a week. Now, there’s this queer bar that me and my wife frequent and it’s a good mix of all age demographics and identities.

There’s this one trans guy, I’ll call him M, that most people in the local community know because he’s very attractive. He reminds me of a very short Eric Draven mixed with Eddie Vedder. (Oddly specific, I know) Like, he has long-ish curly brown hair, big brown eyes, the sweetest smile ever and he dresses very well. A little grunge here, a little rockstar there. Good jewelry. You get it.

I always catch people staring at him when he’s at the bar with his friends. (We live in Europe btw, legal drinking age is 18.) In short, I find him very cute. He’s basically a micro celebrity among the community and he doesn’t even know it.

So, while my wife was away I went down to the bar and his friend group invited me to come sit with them. We started talking, he’s super funny and we began talking about Pearl Jam because of the shirt I was wearing. Found out he’s obsessed with the music scene of the 90s, specifically rock and grunge, and I happen to have a collection of merchandise of the big 4. I invited him to come check it out and he eagerly accepted. None of his friends wanted to come, so it was just us two. Showed him the stuff, he got super excited about it and I even let him keep one of my Soundgarden shirts and some CDs.

I offered to cook dinner, we ate and then had some weed brownies for dessert. We got posted on the couch, talked for a good while and he began confiding in me. I’m not gonna go into detail because that’s shitty, but he basically told me he’d never had a positive sexual experience up to that point. Apparently all of his exes were switches leaning submissive and he’s purely submissive, so things never really worked out and he never finished with any of them.

I told him about me and my wife’s arrangements and some other stuff about our sex life. (Don’t worry, my wife is 100% okay with this. Even in this context.)

Here’s where I might be the asshole, if not the creep:

Now, I was pretty high at that point and I joked about how I could give him a positive experience. To my surprise, he actually eagerly accepted. I was a bit hesitant because we were both buzzed, but he kept reiterating that he’s consenting and that he’s sure he wants this. So, I made sure he had a good night and he actually ended up sleeping over and we cuddled. It was super nice and he seemed genuinely ecstatic about it the next morning, it was adorable. I was honestly just happy that I was able to give him a positive sexual encounter.

We exchanged numbers, kept texting for two days and he ended up coming over again. Had some more fun together and he went to go sleep over at a friend’s place. At that point, I sort of realized that I may be catching feelings for him. Which is against me and my wife’s rules and also just a horrible idea, especially considering the age gap. So, I let him know that I need some distance and he was super understanding. He was understandably a bit disappointed but didn’t complain or anything.

Once my wife came back, I told her about everything. This is just a thing we do because it helps avoid speculation and unnecessary jealousy. We always tell each other about what happens with our other sexual partners, but only if they consent to it. Which most of them do because they’re our friends. She seemed a bit unnerved by it, not because of the fact that I had feelings for him, but because of the age difference. She said it’s weird and predatory and told me she needed some time to think.

Apparently, she went to go check in on M and asked him if I pressured him into anything. He said it was a 100% mutual thing and he’s very much into older guys, so he enjoyed it quite a lot.

This put her mind at ease but I’m still quite shaken by it. I never stopped to consider the fact that the age difference is quite concerning. I can’t help but feel like a nasty creep that bribed some poor 20 year with old band shirts to come sleep with him. I don’t like that I didn’t even think about it. Talking with M came so easy and we share a lot of interests. I’m not about to go and say he’s 'mature for his age' because he isn’t, he acts like any other 20 year old.

I was just so focused on how attractive and interesting he is to me, I fear I might’ve acted extremely selfish and should’ve stopped to take his lack of experience and his naivety into account. Of course he’d sleep with me, he’s 20 and doesn’t know any better. It should’ve been my job, as the older adult, to put a stop to it. Please don’t hesitate to give it to me straight.

AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #eyestrain

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 years ago

Text

Unexpected 3

Sequel to Unsolicited

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, Lloyd being the worst, and other dark elements.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The list of what you can do is shorter than those things barred from you. The doctor merely confirmed your deepest fears and sealed Lloyd’s sentence. A baby. A whole other life and you’re supposed to be responsible for it. You know for a fact he won’t be, at least, not beyond tossing money at the situation.

Your arm is tender from the implant removal. The procedure was emblematic of your state. The excision of part of yourself, the last remnant of your old self. You mourn the loss quietly, keeping your face blank as you pretend to read the literature shoveled into your hands by the nurse before your departure.

Lloyd is gleeful, he can’t hide his joy but you are not deluded. It’s not some wholesome delight at bringing a new life into the world, no, it’s celebrating the life he’s ruined. Yours. A child is the brand that marks your ownership.

As you enter his house, it feels bleak. The pristine white and gold aesthetic is dingy and beige to your eyes. The world is grimmer, constricted. Your leash is tight and cannot reach beyond these walls.

A sudden smack across your ass jolts you from your melancholic trance. Lloyd takes a pamphlet from the pile clutched in your hands and unfolds it. He gives it a once over and hands it back.

“I got a treadmill in the gym. You should hop on that every once in a while. Stuff says you need to stay active,” he shrugs, “wouldn’t mind a workout buddy.”

You squint at him. There it is. All those times Colin gently tried to goad you. ‘There’s a special at the gym’, ‘let’s make a new years resolution’,’ it wouldn’t be a bad idea to try something new’.

“Or… I could go for walks outside,” you suggest, “get some fresh air.”

“Don’t be fucking smart,” he warns, “I’m not being a fuckhead here, I’m trying to help. Do what’s best for the baby but don’t you dare lose that fucking ass. A brisk pace, no running.”

You sigh. This man has the audacity to dictate everything around him as if the world is built just for him. In his head, maybe it is. From the looks of it, he’s never been denied anything in his life.

“So, you still don’t trust me?”

“Trust?” He clucks, “that’s a funny concept. But no. You wanna go for a walk, I’ll take you out for one like a good pet.”

You scowl and he smirks, reaching to tap the end of your nose. You wipe your face of all emotion and pull away, refocusing on the booklets in your hand.

“Decaf,” he declares, “and we should look into some vitamins. Doc says at your age–”

“I wish you hadn’t just welcomed yourself in, you know? It’s kind of… private.”

“Hey, I’m the father, I got every right to know what’s going on with my kid.”

“Mmm, sure, and what about when the kid shows up? How about diapers? Colic? Sticky hands?”

“That’s what nanny’s are for,” he wrinkles his nose, “ew, you’re– such a pessimist, baby face.”

And you're a dumbass, you keep the retort to yourself and shake your head at the next page. No coffee, no hot baths, no sushi… Sounds like a wonderful nine months.

“One thing at a time,” he nears and grasps the clutter in your hands. A brief tug-of-war as you clamp down but relent, letting him take it before it scattered, “we still got a wedding to plan.”

“Plan? I thought Vegas was easy–”

“Dresses,” he insists as he places the papers in the console table drawer, “get your coat off. We’re gonna do a little fashion show.”

“Oh, fuck off. Just gimme the one with the most last,” you huff as you unbutton your coat.

“I think we should weigh our options, baby,” he opens the closet and hangs his jacket, “so you’re gonna strut and do a pretty little spin. If your ass don’t look good, we know it’s not the one.”

“You are so romantic,” you say dryly as you add your coat to the row along the rod.

“Oh, I’m thinking the whole nine yard. Veil, flowers, something blue, something inside you–”

“Right, let’s just get this over with before I vomit,” you interrupt him.

“Ah, little baby Hansen already causing trouble.”

“No, you. You make me sick.”

He snickers and grabs your arm. He pulls you to him, his other arm looping around you. He leans in and you try to turn your face away. He catches your chin and holds you in place as he plants a sloppy kiss on your mouth.

“You think they’ll let me kiss you other lips at the altar,” he purrs as he parts, “climb up under your skirt–”

“Do you ever stop?”

“Not really,” he answers, another slap on your ass, “let’s go, peaches.”

He keeps an arm around you as he guides you away from the entryway and back to the front room where the rack of dresses waits. The golden bar has been righted and the garment bags rehung. Lloyd lets you go and strides ahead of you, pushing apart the wire hangers with a hum.

“Oh, this one is my front runner,” he turns to you and holds out a white bag, “this one first.”

You glare at him and slowly approach, taking it with hesitance.

“So, when exactly is this wedding supposed to happen because I probably won’t fit into these soon–”

“You sign?” He challenges.

You swallow and give an indecisive look to the ceiling.

“I told you I would–”

“Later,” he waves you off, “don’t spoil this.”

You barely keep from rolling your eyes. You? Spoil it? You look down at the hang and drag away the long garment bag.

“Change here,” he insists as he sits on the sofa, stretching his arms wide across the back, “behind that… whatever.”

He points to the fanned divider placed to the impractical aesthetic of whatever designer he paid to decorate. You sniff and near the wall, pulling it out to angle it around so you have some room behind it. You peek over at him as he feels his mustache and smirks at the room.

You dip behind the barrier and unzip the bag. The contents are worse than you could ever imagine. A white leather halter dress. Not your style, if you can claim to have any. You sigh and pull it out.

“What’s up, doll face?” Lloyd taunts from the other side.

“Nothing,” you lie, your tone betraying your agitation.

You undress and open the zipper as wide as it goes. You struggle to pull the tight leather sheath up your body and strain to do it up. You’re less impressed by the cut out over your cleavage and long split down the thigh. Worse, the way it stretches over your stomach makes you feel even more exposed.

“This isn’t it,” you drone, “I’m taking it off–”

“Get out here,” he speaks over you.

“Lloyd, I hate it–”

“That shit’s designer so you walk your ass out here and give me a look,” he intones, “now, sweetheart.”

You hold back another frustrated exhale and move slowly. The leather creaks loudly and you cringe. You come around the divider and march over to the sofa. You stop before him and cross your arms.

“It’s too small.”

“Fuck,” he leans forward and steeples his hands, brushing his fingers up under his chin, “you look fucking hot.”

“Don’t–”

“Your tits look huge. Like… humongous–” He makes a motion as if squeezing your chest.

You stare at him, unable to conceal your anger. Is he just saying he likes it because he knows you don’t or is he really that tacky?

“Turn,” he spins his finger in the air. You take a breath and obey. As you do, he growls and slaps his thigh. “Damn, that ass. I mean, you can’t see it but let me tell you, it looks magnificent. The kinda ass a man could dive right into.”

“Right, thanks,” you face him again with a sneer, “can I take this shit off?”

“You can hike up that skirt and give daddy a ride,” he sits back as he drags his hands up his pants and pulls his knees apart. The bulge beneath the white pants is all too obvious.

“This isn’t the dress, Lloyd. There are a dozen more–”

“I know it’s not, but you gotta fuck me in it at least once,” he picks at his fly.

You cringe and slowly bend to grab the skirt, pushing it back at the split as you get closer. He pulls his dick above his pants and strokes himself, reaching for your hip as he guides you into his lap. You get on your knees as you fight the leather around you and he rubs his tip against your entrance.

You sink down onto him and he trails his fingertips up your body. He covers your tits with his hands and squeezes, bucking below you as he groans.

“Fuck, baby, I don’t think I’m ready to share these,” he leans forward and buries his face in your cleavage, shaking his head with a lewd noise. He pulls back and tilts his head up to look at you, “I’m just fine with a formula baby.”

You push him against the couch and rock your hips. It’s the only way to shut him up. And you’ll gladly take a moment of peace before they’re gone for good.

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #series #unexpected #drabble #dark drabble #dark!drabble #the gray man

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drewstarkeyyx · 1 year ago

Text

Favorite song ( l )

summary ~ to celebrate the new season of obx , all of the cast members decide to go to the club ,drew and y/n have been dating for 3 years going on 4 but they never announced it to their fans , while dancing with eachother they get caught ?.

warnings ~ fluffyyy as heck , intimate kissing , slight neck grabbing , little cussing , implied smut

lmk if i missed anything .

you and drew have been dating for 3 years , you met through mutual friends, and kept in contact, then you joined the obx cast and you grew closer with him, you started to have feelings for him, and one day when the two of you were alone, you told him about your feelings not expecting him to like you back because you only told him to get it off of your chest, but he said he liked you two, so started to talk, and try to feel things out, and after a couple of months you made it official with him.

your relationship with drew beforehand had always been touchy, like he would grab your waist and kiss your cheek, you would jump on him so he could pick you up, you would hold hands with each other , or you would both kiss each others hand, stuff like that, everyone around you could see the chemistry between the two of you, but of corse you and drew were oblivious , and of corse when some pictures of videos of you two doing that, the fans went completely wild

———————————————————————

in celebration of the new season of obx coming out, the cast decided to go to the club as celebration .

you had on a white-ish creme color crop top, shoulders out and the sleeves falling down the rest of your arms , matching with the bottoms that went with the shirt , high waisted flowy dress pants that hugged just the right amount of your curves, matched with an army green bag and, army green heels

and drew wore a white wife beater and to go over it an army green denim jacket and jeans ( you made him match with you )

you and drew arrive together per usual, since you live together, you make your way through the crowd when you spot your friends ( madelyn, madison , carlacia , JD, chase, rudy , and austin ) you go up to them and greet the all, and you begin talking to jd, jd and you are very close , he is your bestfriend you get along very nice and your personality’s just match each others , you give him a hug, and begin talking with him, he was the first and probably the only person you told about your feelings for drew, although all of the cast know that the two of you date now, they had a feeling it was going to happen eventually you and the girls go to the bar, and take a couple of shots, you think your pretty good with your alcohol but your not going to test that today, you take just enough to feel good, but not drunk or tipsy.

all of you head to the dance floor together and you begin dancing and swaying your hips to the beat, then you heard a familiar beat, it was one of you and drew’s favorite songs, it was often played in your sex playlist .. yes you had a playlist for that specific reason, you guys do it about 4-5 times a week, depending on how the week goes, or the mood that you two are in.

“set the cheetahs on the loose . theirs a thief out on the move . underneath our legions view . they have taken cleopatra . run run run , come back for my glory .

you turn around and look at him, he was already looking at you with a smirk on his face, still swaying your hips to the beat , you turn back around and look at him form behind your shoulder, smirking when you see him slowly walking towards you .

“ you know if you keep looking at me while this song is playing we’re gonna leave early “ he whispers in your ear slowly. “ oh yeah .. leave and do what “ you say smirking “ just keep looking at me like that and you’ll find out beautiful “

“ ok ok “ you say between laughs , “ hey handsome “ you say smiling and turning around and facing him, you slowly caress his face with your hand . “ hello beautiful “ he smiles back at you . if you look at him any longer you’re gonna kiss him , so you look away from him not wanting to risk someone recording and posting it.

our skin like bronze and our hair like cashmere . as we march to the rhythm on the palace floor . chandeliers inside the pyramids , tremble from the force . cymbals crash inside the pyramids , voices fill up the halls .

“ even though i already told you , you really look so beautiful “ , you hit him playfully, earning a chuckle from him , you look down getting flustered , “honestly we’ve been dating for so long i would’ve thought you would stop getting nervous from just a compliment”

you roll your eyes at him “your acting like your any better , pretty boy” you smile at the fact that he’s getting nervous now , you giggle at him “see i can make you flustered as well” you say to him, he just shakes his head , the beat of the music is the only thing heard until it continues a while later ,

big sun coming strong through the motel blinds . wake up to your girl for now let’s call her cleopatra .

“i watch you fix your hair, then put your panties on in the mirror, cleopatra. then your lipstick, cleopatra. then your six-inch heels. catch her “

drew sings along with the song never breaking eye contact “ she’s headed to the pyramid, she’s working at the pyramid tonight.” you sing along with him, your eyes never leaving his while doing so, “working at the pyramid, working at the pyramid tonight.” he sings back to you

“pimpin in my convos, bubbles in my champagne, let it be some jazz playing, “ you continue, dancing a little to the beat change.

he slowly moves his hands down lower and lower, giving your ass a quick squeeze, you smack his hand away quickly. he sighs “ what i’m not doing anything” he rolls his eyes, and you quirk your eyebrows at him , “ i can’t squeeze your but , but i can let you sit on my f-“

you slap his arm, thinking someone can hear him . if you were 4 shades lighter you would’ve been red, “ shhh someone will hear you “ you say , he gives you a serious look and says “so.. don’t you think it’s about time we stopped keeping it a secret, i mean we’ve almost been together for 4 years now” he gives you a sad look , and your heart beat quickened , you sigh “ i wanted to tell them but i didn’t want to ask in case you weren’t comfortable, “ you look down,

he grabs your face and makes you look at him, he has a smile on his face looking you deep in your eyes , “ i would never be uncomfortable with letting the world know that your mines, and i’m yours” you smile at him, you continue dancing with eachother until he starts singing again, “you showed up after work i’m bathing your body, touch you in places in only i know. your wet and you’re warm just like out bath water. “he sings along “ can you make love before you go ? the way you say my name makes me feel like i’m that nigga“ you continue after him “ you say it’s big but you take it , ride cowgirl” he says smirking, you feel yourself growing wetter and wetter , legs a little shaky.

he grabs your neck with one of his hands , you stand on your tippy toes as he leans down a bit, when your lips meet, you can feel the lust, need , and want in the kiss , he bites at your lips, trying to get you to open your mouth for him, you take the hint and let his tongue inside, fighting for dominance, his tongue exploring your mouth like he’s trying to memorize it. he lets go of your neck and with one arm he hooks his arms under your but and lifts you up, you yelp not expecting him to pick you up , you relax and wrap your legs around his waist arms still around his neck, he pulls away and you both try to catch your breath “ how about we get out of here .. unless you would like for everyone else to see what i’m about to do to you ” he whispers seductively in your ear

your eyes go wide “ JOSEPH ANDREW “

he spoke so calmly you didn’t know how to react.

you get inturpted by madelyn and JD calling you and drew’s name . “ what if they heard us drew ? “ this makes him laugh “ it least it’s not like last time “ he says shaking his head and smirking , you put your face in your palms at the thought

FLASHBACK

( this is when drew and madelyn lived together and , jd , rudy , chase , madison. came over and you and drew were in his room doing you know what , and you were being extra loud today because he was giving it to you rough…. just how you like it, and when you got done you walked out of the room to be met with horrified looks from everyone, “ you guys are disgusting “ jd pointed to the both of you making a stank face , you were completely embarrassed, everyone else looked at you with scrunched up faces. “ hey don’t look at me it was her being loud “ drew out his hands up in defense, your neck cracked to look at him slapping his arm, “ no dude you both were being loud “ all of the boys say at the same time “ it wasn’t my fault you were being rough “ you said rolling your eyes

“ oh whatever, you know you like it rough better anyways “ he says looking down at you while smirking , “ you guys are absolutely disgusting”maddison says.

END OF FLASHBACK

pt2?

#drew starkey #drew starkey x y/n #obx cast #drew x reader #drew x y/n #season 3 #Spotify #drew starkey x black reader

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chronically-ghosted · 1 year ago

Text

delicious

rating: T (for cursing and drug use)

pairing: dieter bravo x f!reader

word count: 2160

summary: in order to make a fundraising event bearable, you and Dieter take edibles. When the event runs long, your only chance to make it out alive is to find something to eat.

warnings: drug use (it’s just edibles c’mon you narc), eating, the munchies, messy kissing, dieter bravo being a giant goofball and i hate him, this fic is so self-indulgent i'm embarrassed FOR you, FLUFF

a/n: this one kicked my butt, idk why. But @ravensmadreads says its good so here you go. For my 100 followers event (this is the last one! wow!): @sp00kymulderr asked: Taylor!! Congrats on 100, you’re my favourite blog honestly I check your posts every day just to read your tags lmao. For the celebration can I request some of our sweet boy Dieter with the prompt “We should probably leave, before we start a scandal.” it’s absolutely perfect

🤍Masterlist

After thirty minutes, your eyes are starting to cross. Your high-ribbed dress pinches the soft skin under your tits and the boob tape is starting to chafe your nipples. The ruby red heels have officially given you blisters but the worst – the absolute worst of it – you’re fucking starving.

And the Layaway Barbie at the podium marches on, her big eyes wet and her mouth begging, as she proves to a roomful of donors why they should spend another million in . . . tree-frog rehabilitation. Dieter had been drawn to the little green guys with red eyes on the front of the invitation and as the guest of honor for his “philanthropic” work when he was “dating” a Doctor Without (personal) Borders six years ago, how could he not go?

Let’s take an edible before we go, he said.

Whatever the vibe, it’ll be better if we’re on edibles, honey.

That is the last time you let him convince you of anything while he’s not wearing pants and his hand is down yours.

Your stomach grumbles and you fight back a whine. You make a noise like that and someone will definitely know you’re on drugs. The portly man next you has been staring at you with poorly hidden disgust all night as it is. But for now, his eyes focus in on Layaway Barbie, his loose jowls around his permanently down-turned mouth reminding you of a cartoon character. But which one?

Your eyes narrow at him. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye and it comes to you.

“Droopy!” you yelp and immediately clap your hand over your mouth. Your table mates eye you as if you are some society dredge they did not wish to involve themselves with.

You turn as best you can in your seat, ready to either be scolded by Dieter or have him laugh with you, but he does neither.

In fact, cross-armed, low in his seat, he lets out a low snore.

It’ll be fun, he said.

“Dieter!” You hiss. Nothing. His face is relaxed, lips parting as he falls deeper asleep. Irate you didn’t think of it first, you smack him across the knee. “Dieter!”

He jerks, eyelids cracking open briefly, and suddenly he drops his chin again.

“Thank you for your blessing and influence, oh Lord. Am— oh, hey, baby, what’s up?”

“Don’t ‘hey, baby, what’s up’ me. You were asleep and you just faked praying.”

“Better than faking other things,” he yawns loudly, blinks a bit, and realizes the “inspiring” speech (and presentation) is still going on. “Oh, fuck, we’re gonna die here.”

“Can you please keep it down?” The woman to Dieter’s right snaps. “You are making a mockery of a serious and pressing issue facing our society.”

Dieter blinks at her, his arms still across his chest. You can hear the bitch climb up his throat before he even opens his mouth.

“Well, you’re making a mockery of that dress and you don’t see me complaining–,”

You snag him by the hand and pull him away from the table before the woman has the good sense to throw her drink into his face.

He stumbles behind you as you push on the metal bar, the latch clicking, and you both tumble out into the empty hotel hallway. When the event started, everyone had been herded in from the other doors, where the lobby was. This looks like the kind of hallway drunk co-eds wander down while trying to find the bathroom after prom.

Which – ironically –

His big paw clutches your waist as he falls, or rather, stumbles into a tacky maroon and gold wall. In the fumbling under his legs as they overtake you, and keeping the rim of your heels from biting into your already puckered flesh, he manages to pin you beneath him. The instant the smell of his cologne washes over you, the instinct to claw his stupid eyes out evaporates. You sigh, both of his hands cupping your neck.

“Mhmm, there she is,” he murmurs, sing-song, kissing your nose. “Little hellcat turns baby kitten when she gets what she needs.”

“You are the biggest idiot I know,” you purr into his ear as his hands slide through the layers of your skirt to your ass.

“Yes, but I’m your idiot.” The cry you let out when he pinches your ass cheek beneath your dress is all the answer he needs.

Hands full of your thighs, he rubs you up the wall but there’s too many layers, too much gossamer to get him where you need him. His breath comes in short pants as he presses sloppy, wet kisses to your shoulder, your clavicle, your cheek.

There it comes again. Hunger. Driven on by –

You bite him.

“Ow!”

He pulls back and your mouth drops open in horror – you didn’t mean to bite him that hard and –

Your stomach lets out the most petulant growl.

Hand on his neck like it’s bleeding, Dieter follows your gaze to your stomach as if it had called his name.

And then you both break out into side-splitting laughter.

He eases you down, giggling, his nose pressed to your temple. Were you at home, the sex would have probably continued, but the atmosphere would be different – playful, teasing – he once did a Kermit the Frog impression while balls-deep inside of you and you laughed so hard you instantly came all over him.

“Baby,” he sighs through his teeth and kisses your hairline. “I know. I’m so fucking hungry.” He snaps his teeth by your ear and you push him back by his chest. Two goddam years of dating this moron and he still makes you blush like you’re fifteen and necking with a band geek.

His fingers wrap around your wrist to hold your hand above his heart, kissing your knuckles. He sucks your thumb once before you yelp, and he pushes your fist into his hair as you try to squirm away. He smirks into your neck.

“Dieter!”

“I’m hungry!”

“You’re the one who suggested we take edibles before coming to this thing.”

“Mhmm, let’s go home and do more drugs.”

“But you owe me dinner. Five Guys?”

“Baby, I have to eat something first to have enough stamina for that.”

“Oh my god, you –,”

He bites you on your earlobe again, grinning as he comes behind you to nudge you down the hall. “I know what you meant. I’m down for burgers, but I want, like, five.”

“Me too. Carry me? My feet hurt.”

“Of course, mah kwehn,” he nods as he scoops you up across his broad shoulders, momentarily taking on the affectation of Jon Snow and his loyalty to the dragon queen.

You’re working to kick your heels off as he marches the two of you down the hallway and you’ve nearly gotten your second heel off (the first in your lap) when he suddenly stops.

“Oi, Thomas, we’re not at the train station yet,” you grumble as you reach for your heel, awkwardly tucked under you and his arm. “Keep it going. Choo choo, you know?”

He still isn’t moving. You frown up at him, another transportation joke at the ready, but his wide-eyed stare gives you pause.

“What are you looking at?” You turn in his arms, hunger now officially twisting your stomach painfully. “Why’d you–,”

Your mouth falls open.

Beyond two double doors at the end of the hall sits a silver cart, loaded with tiny chocolate desserts.

You swallow the spit flooding your mouth. This time, his stomach grumbles as if to add to the argument.

“Dieter, put me down.” He all but drops you.

“Dieter, we can’t.”

“Why?”

“We shouldn’t.”

“Why?”

“You’re only saying that because we’re both high as fuck right now and I’d eat bathroom soap if I could.”

That seems to rattle him out of his starvation-induced stupor. He snorts and rolls his eyes. “Please, when have I ever not eaten something I wasn’t supposed to?”

You blink up at him, now several inches shorter without your heels. “What? None of that made sense.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m going for it.”

He strides past a very wide hallway branching back towards the lobby of the hotel, no doubt where several waiters intended to roll dessert out to the waiting reception. They’d be back at any second, but either due to being higher than a kite, his own innate lack of shame, or a combination of the two, Dieter is across the hallway in seconds and he snatches up two of the little chocolate spheres and shoves them both into his mouth at the same time.

“Holy shit, they’re cream puffs.”

Your hunger nearly doubles you over. “C-cream puffs? Those are m-my–,”

“Your favorite. I know. Mhmm, fucking get over here.”

Trembling from a lack of food and nerves, you slink over to him, hand out-stretched. He’s already had four more by this point and he’s stacking more onto a single plate as your fingers squish around one right in front of you. You pinch and the gooey white cream eases out the side. You whimper.

Dieter pauses, the tips of his fingers stained with dark chocolate and a dollop of cream on his cheek.

“That’s the sound you make when I eat you out.”

Rather than answer your boyfriend, you pop the cream puff into your mouth. Your eyes roll back in your head as the pastry melts on your tongue.

“Oh fuuuck.”

Dieter watches with growing concern as you scarf down pastry after pastry. “Okay, now I’m a little offended you’re so turned on by this.”

“Shut up, and let me eat.”

In minutes, the silver cart is empty. Chocolate smeared across a dozen haphazardly-arranged plates, dots of cream littering the spaces between plates and on the edge of the cart, it looks like a fucking war zone of confectionery.

You find yourself breathing heavy, your face and arms covered in the guts of those poor, poor baked goods. Dieter isn’t faring much better, his jacket stained and beard sticky. Your hunger is sated, for now, but you think of burgers and fries and a vanilla milkshake and immediately turn to Dieter, who stares back at you with wide eyes.

“I want six burgers–,”

“We should probably leave before we start a scandal–,”

You stare at each other, soldiers shell-shocked, rehabilitated werewolves in horror of their bloodshed. Bloodlust.

The second you get home you’re gonna give him the kind of blow job that stops his heart.

Half-way laughing, half-way crying, you take him by the collar, further smearing chocolate over the starched white linen and his neck, and kiss him soundly on his conspicuous mouth. He giggles through the kiss and cups your cheeks, his massive hands sticky and warm.

“We should go . . .” he murmurs again before pressing his lips to you again. Cream puffs or no, it all tastes better when you lick it off the corner of his mouth.

“We’re gonna have to walk past the lobby,” you bemoan into his patchy beard. Dieter smirks and without warning, squeezes your right tit, leaving a very clear chocolatey handprint on your dress.

“Dieter!”

“C’mon, baby, I wanna devour you. And I want all of them to know it.”

That was the thing about Dieter Bravo, he never did anything small. He never allowed you to feel small. He was obsessive about taking pictures of you, posting them everywhere, never ashamed of you and desperate to have the world see you the way he did.

Like you were delicious.

“I’ll buy you six burgers if you let us walk out like this.”

“Deal.”

Grinning like only a man with nothing to hide can, he takes you by the hand and leads you back towards the very fancy dinner you’ve both no doubt been kicked out of.

Something rises up in you the longer you stare at his broad back.

“Dieter, wait.”

He pauses, turns, and crumbles slightly beneath the weight and intensity of your kiss.

“I love you,” you say before he can slip his tongue into your mouth.

Dieter Bravo does nothing small, is nothing small. Except when it’s just you and him and the words you just uttered hang in the air between you. A small, hesitant smile expands across his lips, as if he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing but it warms him nonetheless.

“I love you too.”

He kisses your nose and you sigh into him. You could stay like this forever, wrapped up in him. But then you might just eat him alive.

“Burgers, Dieter.”

“Right, right. How many do you think we can buy at one time?”

You both ignore the paparazzi and their cameras as you walk hand in hand, your heels in your other hand, with Dieter out the front door and into the limo, arguing about which fast food joint would let you get at least twenty burgers.

Nothing about Dieter Bravo is small. Especially his appetite.

#100 followers event #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x oc #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fanfic #the bubble fanfic #the bubble

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0utkasttt · 2 years ago

Text

BIRTHDAY GIRL ᥫ᭡

“happy birthday, my favorite girl” ᥫ᭡

synopsis: y/n not wanting to go out for her birthday but eren drags her out anyway.

wordcount: 1,016 👩🏽‍💻

(based off daddy’s little girls🥹)

“no more work tonight, this is no way to spend your birthday weekend” he reached over you, closing your textbooks and notebooks, sliding it to the side.

you rolled your eyes as he spun around your desk chair, pulling your arms to make you stand up.

“..cmon, get dressed. we’re leaving, we’ll have fun. i promise” he smiled.

you began walking towards the bathroom, knowing he wasn’t gonna stop bugging you ‘til he got what he wanted, and that was for you to enjoy the rest of your night.

you and he had been friends for years, he understood you and vice versa. the two of you had almost the exact same music taste, same style, interests, and etc.

“hey e, c’you bring me a towel?” you called from the cracked bathroom door.

“here” he slid the towel through the crack of the door. he waited and checked his phone while he waited for you to get dressed.

you pulled out a pink glittery slip on dress and a black glittery dress out of your closet. “this one, or this one” you asked him, holding them both up to your chest for him to see.

“hm, put them on?”, “okay” you sat both of the dresses down, trying them both on one by one.

“okay, pink” you posed, waiting for his opinion.

he licked his lips, “turn around for me?”, “eren.” you frowned at him. “alright, sorry. put the other one on real quick” he laid back into your bed.

“….and, black” you said, turning around.

he stared you down, his eyes widening as he eyed how perfectly the dress had fit your body. “oh GYATDA—black dress please” he smirked.

“ ‘kay, thanks. your the best” you smiled at him.

you took about 10 more minutes to get ready before meeting him downstairs.

“now that’s what i’m talkin’ ‘bout. you look so gorgeous, baby” he complimented, and hyped you up. “really? guess you made a good choice then” you smiled. “don’t i always?” he teased.

you locked up your apartment making sure to turn the lights off as you left.

he opened the passenger door to his car, for you to get inside. you sat down and he closed the door before returning to his said of the car.

you looked up at the green sign above you when you got to the place. it read “Earth Angels”

you weren’t familiar with the place, making you wonder how he found it. he took your hand as you got out of the car, leading you to the small building.

“yo eren!” the bartender threw his hand up, greeting eren. still holding your hand he led you to the bar, you both took a seat. the place wasn’t very big, it had a fair amount of people in, not too many.

“ah this your girl?” the bartender asked, cleaning two glasses. “…yeah” he responded, making you look over at him, then back at the bartender with a smile.

“she’s a pretty lady, what’ll you be having?”, “uh, four shots of tequila” you responded. “thanks, make that six” eren cut in.

“six?!” your eyes widened in shock. “yeah, we’re celebrating” he shrugged, grabbing a shot glass, throwing it back into his mouth.you followed along, letting the burning liquor pour down your throat, your face scrunched up at the taste.

the both of you drunk a little more, laughing, joking and around and having a good time with music playing in the background. “dance with me” you pulled him up, dragging him to the dance floor.

you began to sway your hips in front of him, to the beat of the music. with the alcohol running through your system, you swore you could hear every beat and instrument. you felt good and he was right, you were definitely having fun.

“having fun?” he smiled at you, despite being drunk, you were still as gorgeous as before.

“mhm, yeah” you nodded, giggling.

“i’m glad. alright, let’s get you home” he grabbed your bag and held your hand as you both left the building.

you were still dancey and giggly the ride home, laughing at jokes eren made and dancing to the music he played. he took you back to your place and helped you up the stairs.

“im’a run downstairs real quick” he said, sitting you on your bed.

you laid on your back and kicked your shoes off, waiting for him to return.

he went and got a bottle of cold water and some ibuprofen for the hangover you were about to have in the morning.

“here” he opened the bottle of water and held it with his free hand and put the pills in your hand with his other. “take them, it’ll make you feel better. trust me”

you listen to him, taking the pills and downing it with the water he handed you. “i think..you make me feel better” you laid your head into your pillows.

he sat on the edge of your bed. relaxing himself “do i?” he responded, curious.

him getting off the bed woke you up. you didn’t want the night to end even though it was 2:30 in the morning. “ej…are you leavin’?” you sat up, looking at him.

“yeah i was gonna head home, did you need anything else?” he walked back over to the bed.

“i think you should stay” you run your hands up his neck. making eye contact with him, you slide one of your hands under his shirt.

“y/n you’re drunk” he shakes his head, moving your hand. “mhm, i know” you giggle, pulling him down onto the bed. you both lay face to face and you throw your leg over him, smiling.

“i had so much fun, y’know?”

“yeah? me too, i told you we’d have fun. y’gonna be pissed at me when you wake up though” he chuckled, imagining your reaction.

“hm? why?” you laid your face against his chest, slowing falling asleep. he sighs and kisses your forehead before closing his eyes.

“goodnight. happy birthday, my favorite girl” ᥫ᭡

#eren jaeger #eren aot #attack on titan #blackreader #eren fluff #eren jeager x reader #eren x black fem!reader #blacky/n #black writers #eren x black reader fluff

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lovesosweeet · 1 year ago

Text

KNOW IT ALL x THE BAND CAMINO

part 3

a calum hood songfic

read part 1 / 2

two years ago

Michael’s birthday had come and gone, but the whole thing had been planned by his fiancée. He loved her and he loved the weekend that she’d planned for them, but he wanted a proper weekend of being an idiot with his friends, rather than being on his best behavior and having a picture-perfect weekend that Crystal could share on social media.

Cal could tell that Mike wanted a chance to be a blubbering idiot for a night or two. He knew that they’d all have to grow up eventually and stop doing the dumb shit at some point, but this year wasn’t the year that they grew up. They all knew it, but Cal was the only one who took action.

He booked an AirBNB in downtown Montreal and found a ski resort about 30 minutes outside of the city to spend a day or two on the slopes, knowing they’d spend the better part of the weekend drunk and acting like fools with each other at dive bars and singing karaoke.

The place he booked was huge, so he told Michael to invite anybody he wanted. Because it was a bit last minute, not a ton of people were able to join. It ended up being the band, Roy, Brian, Tillie, and Tillie’s guitarist that they’ve all befriended over the past year and a half, Marco.

Even though they were all flying in from LA, they all arrived at different times of the day. Cal had flown in last night to make sure everything was ready to go. He stocked up on booze, went grocery shopping, and scouted out the ski resort to make sure it would be suitable for a few “celebrities” to spend time at.

Mike and Tillie had flown in together, of course, and it made Cal jealous. He’d been a sucker for Tillie since the night they met, but she was either entirely oblivious to it or simply uninterested. He hoped she was just oblivious, but he tried not to figure out which it was, too scared to truly consider the possibility that she wasn’t into him at all.

Tillie’s contact photo lights up his screen as she calls him, and he answers instantly. He hopes it comes off as just being expectant of them, rather than someone who’d pick up as soon as humanly possible whenever she calls. Both are true.

“Hi, Matilda,” he answers, smirking at the use of her full name, knowing it would make her annoyed. Tillie was fun to tease, but only if you weren’t faint of heart. You had to be ready and willing to be met with twice the amount of insult that you doled out if you wanted to talk shit to Matilda Beckett.

“Shut the fuck up, Thomas.”

“Nice to hear your voice, too,” he dryly says.

“We’re here. Come let us in or we’re gonna go have fun without you.”

“Coming,” Calum answers, already halfway to the door. He wants to spend the whole weekend by Tillie’s side.

Calum makes his way to the front door of the condo and then rides the elevator down to the lobby, where he finds Michael and Tillie dressed in nearly identical outfits. Both are wearing black joggers with black sneakers, along with black hoodies layered over turtlenecks. Tillie’s currently blue hair is partly hidden under a red beanie, whereas Mike’s blonde hair is topped off with a black baseball cap.

The only other difference in their outfits is the white satin sash across Michael’s body that says “bride to be.”

“What the fuck is that?” Calum asks through laughter, his eyes focused on the sash.

“This idiot isn’t planning on having a bachelor party, so I’m forcing him to make this a bachelorette weekend.” Tillie says it so matter of factly, as if Calum should’ve known the reasoning without her explaining it. She’s already stepping into the elevator with her black suitcase rolling behind her and Michael following suit.

They ride up to the floor they’re staying on and while they walk, Michael is on the phone with Crystal, talking about some “emergency” with their wedding planning. Tillie side eyes Calum, trying not to laugh at how little Mike obviously cares about the satin tablecloths Crystal wanted that are unavailable.

Michael retreats to the balcony when they get to the AirBNB, leaving Tillie and Calum in the living room with their luggage. Tillie reaches into her hoodie pocket and pulls out a baggie of colorful candy.

“Brought eddies. Want one?” She asks and pulls out a small gummy to offer it to him.

Calum eyes the candy. “Maybe later? Once everyone is here.”

Tillie rolls her eyes. “You’re no fun.” She doesn’t say anything else before she heads toward the bar cart in the corner. She grabs the bottle of Casamigos from the top shelf, pops the lid off, and then takes a few gulps of the tequila. Wordlessly, she holds the bottle toward Calum.

He’s already turned her down once, and he fears that, if he turns her down again, she’ll stop offering things. Thus, he takes the bottle from her and swallows a mouthful before handing the bottle back to Tillie.

She’s smiling at him, a glint of cockiness in her eyes. “Didn’t expect you to be one to give into peer pressure so easily, Hood.”

Truthfully, he wasn’t, but something about Tillie has him completely willing to do whatever she says. He’d jump off a cliff if she told him to.

“C’mon, Tills. You know me better than that. A shot of tequila is nothing for me.”

She raises an eyebrow and then holds the bottle back out to him. “Okay, then take another.”

Calum hesitates before doing what she says.

He’s practically squinting under her intense gaze, her blue eyes piercing into his skin in a way that’s painfully pleasant to Calum. He’s grateful when Mike reenters the room, hanging up his call with Crystal.

“Okay, crisis averted. I’d like to go get a beer and a snack, if you guys are up for it,” Michael says. He notes the bottle of tequila in Calum’s hands but doesn’t question it. When Tillie is involved, substances are involved, and she’s known for being a bad influence.

Calum doesn’t get a chance to speak before Tillie does.

“Whatever the bride-to-be-slash-birthday-baby wants!” Tillie cheers.

Michael rolls his eyes. “Tillie, you’re younger than me. Why do you always call me a baby?”

Tillie smirks her classic smirk that makes something in Calum’s chest tighten. “Because you act like one. You’d all be so fucking lost without each other like babies are without their moms. Don’t worry, Mike. It’s cute.”

Calum watches as Michael’s eyes roll again.

“Don’t test me, Matilda. This is my weekend, remember?”

Tillie cackles and shakes her head. “Yep, I know. Bachelorette trip in Montreal. Let me get changed and then we can head out?”

Calum and Michael wait in the living room while Tillie goes into a bedroom to get dressed and freshen up. Calum uses the time to text the rest of the gang for the weekend how to get into and out iof the AirBNB and shares his location with them so they can find the trio wherever they end up.

When Tillie re-enters the room, she’s still wearing all black, but this time she’s wearing a long sleeve, black corset style top that has the tiny tattoos on her collarbones exposed, and tight black jeans cover her legs. She’s kept on her black sneakers and taken off the beanie, her hair now just laying straight over her shoulders. She threw on some makeup but not a ton, but, if you ask Calum, she’s the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen.

“Close your mouth, Thomas. Let’s go.” She walks up to him and lightly smacks his face, headed straight for the door without looking back.

Michael snickers as Calum blushes, both of them following the sassy girl out of the condo once more.

Countless shots of tequila, beers, and a few bites of Tillie’s edibles later, the whole crew is now in Montreal and well intoxicated at a dive bar. Tillie had coordinated with Ashton to bring more “bachelorette” items with him, so everyone is now wearing satin pink sashes that say “bride tribe” to match Michael’s. Some of the boys are wearing sparkly pink headbands that have penises attached like antennae while Michael has a veil clipped onto his baseball hat. They all look like fools, but Calum is happier than he’s been in a long time.

Tillie is standing on a booth bench with Luke while they scream along to “Everytime We Touch” by Cascada. Calum is just staring, the weed gummy hitting him hard and he feels like his head is floating, smiling contently at the girl he’s been crushing on, hard, for so long.

“Tommy!” Tillie yells. She’s incredibly high, but not too drunk. Drunk Tillie is talkative, whereas High Tillie is smiley and goofy. She’s had a cheesy grin on her face for the last 30 minutes.

Calum waddles over to her, feeling like he’s wading through a pool. He used to hate that she almost exclusively calls him by his middle name, but now he loves it. She has a nickname for him, even if it’s not all that creative.

“What’s up, Tills?” He asks. He barely has to look up at her, even though she’s standing on the bench. She’s so tiny.

“If you’re gonna stare, you might as well do it up close,” she says, only loud enough for him to hear her. It makes his heart thud quick and hard in his chest and he blushes, but he doesn’t look away from her blue eyes.

Tillie holds her hands out to him, offering to pull him up to stand next to her and Luke. He takes them, feeling on cloud nine because of the way she just flirted with him. When Calum is standing with Tillie, she doesn’t let go of his hands and moves them around while she continues to scream the lyrics of the song.

Calum is over the moon at the physical contact and relishes in the moment, singing and dancing along with her. The bar plays “Dear Maria Count Me In” next, then “What’s My Age Again,” and then, as soon as the opening notes to “Sweet Caroline” start playing, Tillie scrunches up her face in disappointment.

“I’m not white enough for this shit,” she says, craning her neck to make sure Calum hears the words she says. “Wanna go to the patio?”

Calum, bewildered by her suggestion that they step outside, just the two of them, just nods quickly. “Yeah, sure, that works.”

She looks up to him with her eyes wide and a smile tugging at her lips. “Go get me a PBR and meet me out there?”

Once more, he’s stunned, but wordlessly nods, stepping down from the bench before helping Tillie down to the floor. She mumbles something along the lines of ‘see you out there’ before she disappears, and Cal hurries to the bar to order her beer and another for himself. He also orders a shot for himself, needing an extra boost of liquid courage.

As he’s walking out toward the patio, Ashton stops him. “Where are you going?”

Cal’s cheeks flush. “Tillie and I are going to the patio.”

Ashton widens his eyes in surprise. “Oh, that sounds nice, I’ll join—“

Calum cuts his best friend off with an expression that begs him to shut up.

Ashton then smiles and shakes his head. “Fine, I’ll give you your moment.”

“I’ve only been trying for two fucking years,” Calum mumbles while grabbing the two beer cans from the bartender. “It’s under Hood,” he say to the bartender, who nods.

“Good luck, Cal. She’s a tough nut to crack sometimes.”

Cal glares at Ashton. “No shit.”

He’s walking out toward the patio before Ashton gets a chance to say anything else, a smile reforming on his lips when he sees Tillie outside, taking selfies with the city lights behind her.

“Need a camera man?” Calum asks as he approaches her. She rolls her eyes and takes the beer from him, gulping down a few sips.

“Nah, just wanted to post a picture to my close friends story.”

Calum nods. He sips from his own beer can. It’s not silent, since he can still hear the music inside, but now that it’s just him and Tillie, he doesn’t know what to say. She makes him so nervous, but he’s so excited to have her to himself, even if it’s just for a moment.

“Mike’s really glad you threw this whole thing together,” Tillie says, filling the air with conversation easily.

Calum smiles. “He’d do it for me, so it’s only appropriate.” He gazes at Tillie, noting that her hair is now pulled up into a ponytail, a little sweaty from her dancing and being surrounded by so many warm bodies. Her lipstick is faded, almost completely gone, and her eyes are tinted pink. “I’m sure he loves the bachelorette shit you’re pulling, even though he’s being grumpy about it.”

Tillie smirks at him. “Yeah, well, can’t let you steal the best friend title from me.”

“Excuse me! You stole it from me first!”

“Can’t help it that I’m cooler than you, Calum.”

Calum frowns. She called him Calum, not Tommy and not Thomas and not Hood. He can’t disagree with her though. She’s far cooler than he’ll ever be.

“Maybe we can just share?” He asks.

Tillie smiles. “I don’t share, Thomas.”

Something comes over Calum and the words he says shock even himself. “You’d never have to share me, Matilda.” When he realizes what he’s just said, his whole face turns bright red.

Tillie doesn’t say anything, she just nods. She keeps drinking her beer, but when she pulls the can away from her mouth, Calum realizes she’s smiling.

“You know,” she starts, “I thought you were scared of me for a very long time.”

Calum laughs. “I was. I mean, hell, I am.”

She grins. It’s a wicked grin that makes her eyes sparkle. “Good.”

Calum snorts before he and Tillie both fall into a fit of giggles.

“It’s a good scared, though, Tills. Makes me want to talk to you even more, even if it scares me.”

Tillie’s expression turns unreadable and she keeps sipping from her beer can. Her eyes focus on the metal tab, and her fingers follow suit, fiddling with the small piece of metal. Eventually, she sighs.

“I feel like you have me on this pedestal, Cal. And I haven’t earned it.”

Has Tillie always known I’ve had a crush? Calum thinks.

“I don’t have you on a pedestal, Tillie. I just…” he trails off. He wants to say he’s practically in love with her. He can’t say that, so he just doesn’t finish his sentence.

She shakes her head. “However that sentence ends, I don’t deserve it.”

Calum is bewildered. Tillie, the confident, snarky, sassy girl that he’s spent countless days with, is insecure. How had he not seen that? How could she be insecure when she’s so… Tillie? Tillie is loud. She’s sure of herself. She doesn’t give a shit. She does what she wants and doesn’t care what anyone else thinks.

As if she can read his mind, Tillie continues. “I’ve done some fucked up shit, Calum. You’re too… nice for me.”

He raises his eyebrows. “I’ve done some fucked up shit, too, Tillie,” he counters.

Tillie snorts a laugh. “Yeah, sure.”

Calum shakes his head. “Tills, we’ve all made mistakes.”

Her lips press together, her mouth forming a straight line. She debates dumping all of her past on him, right then and there. She won’t lie. She’s wanted to pursue Calum. He was kind and funny and she’s never slighted the fact that she found him incredibly attractive. She just thought he was way too good for him. He should’ve been with a person with way less baggage than she.

“I’ve made too many big ones, Cal. Far more than it takes to disqualify me from being a good person.”

Calum wants to scream. He doesn’t care if she thinks she’s a good person. He knows she is. She’s a good friend, a wonderful companion. She’s thoughtful and he thinks she’s the funniest person he’s ever met. Her confidence is irritatingly high, but he loves that about her. It’s a quality he wishes he had.

“I don’t believe you.”

Tillie rolls her eyes. “Whether or not you believe me, Cal, it’s true.”

Calum takes the chance to roll his eyes back at her. “I don’t believe you. I have zero confidence that it’s true, Tillie. Your heart is too big.”

She has to hold back from pouting out her lower lip. “I’ve fucked up, big time, too many times—“

“Try me,” Cal says, cutting her off

“What?”

“Try me. Tell me one of these big bad things you’ve done and I’ll tell you if it makes you a bad person.”

Tillie looks like she’s on the brink of tears, and Calum suddenly feels horrible for pushing her to this point. She takes a big, deep breath before she speaks again.

“No judgment?” She asks. Her voice is smaller and more shy than he’s ever heard it.

Cal shakes his head. “I could never judge you, Tills.”

She takes a deep breath. “My sister got kicked out of our house because of me.”

When Calum doesn’t say anything, she takes it as a cue to keep talking.

“My parents found a stash of weed in our bathroom. It was mine. We both knew it was mine, but I was young and dumb and I said it was hers. I found a picture of her smoking with friends on her ‘finsta’ and showed it to my parents as proof. I didn’t think they’d kick her out. I thought they’d be pissed, ground her maybe, but I didn’t think she’d be kicked out.k”

She lets the words sink in for Calum, but he seems unfazed.

“And you were how old?”

“Like 15, but—“

“Tillie, you were young and stupid. You clearly regret it. Sure, it wasn’t a good thing to do, but it doesn’t make you a bad person.”

Tillie still looks upset, but she puts on a front and smiles. She’s good at faking it, and it makes him wonder how many times she’s done this around him and he hasn’t detected it.

“I haven’t talked to her since the night they threw her out,” she confesses. She’s staring at her beer can.

“Have you tried to reach out and apologize?”

“She calls me like every other month and leaves a voicemail. I just don’t answer.”

Calum’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Why don’t you answer?”

“I’m scared.”

“Tills, it sounds like she just misses her sister if she’s still calling you regularly,” Calum tells her, trying to reassure the girl that she has no reason to be scared.

Tillie doesn’t say anything in response. Her eyes stay trained on her beer. Calum wants to hug her or hold her hand, but he doesn’t know how she’d react, so he keeps his hands to himself. He’s already making leaps and bounds in his quest to pursue her by simply being alone with her. He doesn’t even care that it’s cold as shit outside. He’s with Tillie and she’s telling him things.

“I’ve never told anyone that,” she says to break the silence.

“That you’re scared?”

“No. Well, yes, but the whole thing. I’ve never told anyone what I did.”

Calum tries not to lose his shit. She trusts him. She trusts him enough to tell him something she’s never told anyone.

“It’s not good to keep everything bottled up, Tills,” he says. “Thank you for telling me.”

Tillie laughs quietly and shakes her head. “You’re just so… nice.”

He raises his eyebrows in response. “Thank you?”

She giggles then, and Calum is happy to hear the sweet sound. He’s not used to her being anything but lively and confident. The insecure and scared girl he just saw for the first time wasn’t the Tillie he knows.

“You’re so soft. I feel like I’ll break you if I look at you the wrong way.”

“I’d let you break me any day of the week, Matilda.”

That must’ve been the right answer because before he knows it, Tillie’s kissing him, her hands tangled in his curls. He’s taken aback but entirely happy about it, kissing her back instantly.

He has no idea what he’s just gotten himself into.

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aajjks · 11 months ago

Note

i’m really excited to write this roleplay because i have no idea what mi!koo is like or what makes him a yandere. i was re-reading asks about him and sending asks about what he looked like so i could get a feel for him 😅

mommy issues!JK

“okay class! go play! be careful!” you announce to your students but before you warn them to be careful, they’re already scattering around like little ants. you let out a sigh as one of your students trips and falls, ruining their uniform. being a teacher has taught you that overreacting only makes the child overreact, so you simply encourage your student to dust themselves off and go have fun. you don’t gasp or give a huge reaction, you just give them a thumbs up and encourage them to go have fun.

“what’s up, y/n!” says park chaeyoung, the kindergarten teacher who not only pretended to hump one of your parents but is well-aware of their massive crush on you. you don’t find chaeyoung to be a bother but you wouldn’t say the two of you are friends either. when you need ideas for activities, chaeyoung doesn’t mind giving you some advice and vice versa.

“hey chae” you reply as you walk closer to her.

“how were your classes today, pretty?”

“they were okay. the kids did really good with the gummy bear activity” you shrug as you listen to chaeyoung and watch your kids at the same time. some of your kids hang on the monkey bars while other play in the field of flowers, specifically seol and areum.

“so, when are you gonna fuck that hot teacher?”

you gasp “chaeyoung! i am not going to…F him”

you’re a teacher, you can’t curse. at least in front of your kids, you won’t.

“if you don’t, i will”

“not a chance. i heard he’s either got a wife or he’s got baby mama drama”

“you really believe what those teachers say about him?” chaeyoung smirks then leans in closer to your ear “i heard he’s got a crush on one of the teacher’s at the school”

surely you know it’s you, right? it’s not like seol’s dad is the best at hiding his feelings for you but you don’t react, flinch, nothing. that’s when chaeyoung concludes that you’re fucking oblivious to his crush on you which, again, is very obvious. his body language and baby doll-like eyes makes it very clear that the only woman on his mind is the woman that teaches his kid. awkward, but chaeyoung finds it kind of cute.

“he does?” you say “i hope they like him back. oh! one of my parents are here. talk to you later, chaeyoung..hi, yuna!! your father is here!!”

“okay, you have a good day!”

next to leave is one of chaeyoung’s kid and after 10 more minutes outside, you instruct your kids to get in single file line so they could hydrate themselves and prepare for snack-time. as you’re taking a swig of your own bottled water, seol taps your leg to get your attention and presents a flower he picked out just for you.

“it’s for you, mom!” he sweetly says with those adorable eyes of his.

“oh, seol~ that is so sweet of you. thank you so much, hun” you say to the five-year old as you lean down and allow him to put it behind your ear. next to follow behind seol is areum who also present a flower of her own she picked out just for you.

“you too, areum? thanks so much. you two are just the sweetest” you coo as you allow areum to put the flower behind your other ear. “c’mon you guys, let’s go in class so you can eat. i know you guys are starving” you joke as you hold their smaller hands in yours and guide your students inside the classroom for snack-time.

“can you believe mr. gang sold the company? we’re the best banking company in the city and he SELLS it?! we were an independent company making our own money! ugh, wait til i tell alina about this bullshit” eunwoo complains but it’s not just him that is irritated about the surprising news, jungkook is too.

“and guess what? they want everyone to dress all fancy this weekend for a celebration. you going to that dinner because if you don’t then i’m not going either”

but they both know the dinner is mandatory, plus, it’ll be the first time jungkook has seen nara’s face since all those years ago.

“we’ll talk about it on the phone” eunwoo says as he takes a look at his phone “dammit, alina can’t get areum today. good thing i get off early. hey, didn’t you say you’ve got a meeting with y/n, right? don’t forget about that” and before eunwoo can leave jungkook’s office, it was as if a lightbulb lit up in his head.

“you should invite y/n to that celebration this weekend! i’m sure she’ll say yes, or are you too scared to ask? you know i can get alina to ask her. they’re close”

~🫧

Jungkooks eyes light up, “bro… if i could kiss you I would but you’re married and I love yn.” Eunwoo is so intelligent, no wonder he’s married, eunwoo makes a gag face at jungkooks sentence but jungkook just laughs it off

He could ask you to dinner- this weekend, if you’re not too busy. He hopes that you’re not,

So after a few more hours as they are both walking out of the company after a long day at work, Jungkook decides to drive alone since eunwoo has got his own car.

Would you agree? He bites his lip as he focuses on driving, please you have to agree, Jungkook is really hopeful and it’ll be great.

After 30 minutes, he’s pulling up in the school parking lot Acs you bet he’s running towards your classroom in the hallway, the teachers watch him but he doesn’t care.

Jungkook pants a little before he fixes his clothes and then he’s finally knocking at your door. “Ms yn?” He calls out and after a few seconds you open the door.

All in your tight blouse glory, Jungkook blinks twice so he can stop staring at your breasts and he bows his head as you allow him in.

Damn, you’re so sexy in this teacher attire of yours, please teach him a lesson he will never forget, or maybe you could just fuck him on that desk of yours.

Shut up horndog.

There you are staring at him and the kids are probably in the playground, it’s just you and him, oh he’s so excited. “H-Hi Ms yn.” He blushes, your stare is so sexy.

How are you so hot, he’s feeling so hot right now. God save him.

You give him a small bright smile and he feels so good, all his anxiety and stress washing away, “uhhh before you say anything I have a question… kinda inappropriate.” He scratches the back of his head because he can’t have your own friend ask you if you’d like to accompany him to the dinner next weekend.

“So I need a date for the company dinner and you’re the only woman I know…. And feel comfortable with… uh… Ms yn… would you like to go on a dinner date with me? Please say yes I don’t want to be alone there… as you can tell I’m single.”

#ask: mi!jk #you’re going TO LOVE HIM BESTIE #🫧 anon

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clonemedickix · 1 year ago

Text

Rating: M

Word count: 6.8K

Pairing: Captain Rex, OC General Lara Lin, Torrent Company, Marshall Commander Cody

Warnings: implied and actual recreational drug use, noncon drug use (by a naughty friend), time spent at a bar, drinking, nakedness, hidden tattoos, general Halloween fun, scary movies

Excerpt Summary - The Torrent Company boys decide they want to experience some of Earth’s finest scary movies but are unprepared for the fallout.

If you’d like to be tagged for more fanfics, click here.

If you’d like to read more about General Lara Lin, click here.

The men of the 501st and Dragon Company were due some R & R after their last mission. General Skywalker and General Lin released them for shore leave from the Resolute and Talon, and told them they didn’t need to be seen for three days. The men and their Generals went their separate ways, looking forward to unwinding as well, though it would be brief. Generals Kenobi, Skywalker and Lin were all expected back at the port in two hours, set to leave for a short leadership conference that would take roughly a day.

Jesse nudged Kix and said “What are we gonna do for three days?”

“Volte was telling me the General has these really wizard movies from Earth she let them all watch on the way out to the last mission. Scared the pants off of them. He said he felt sure the General would lend them to us if we wanted to give them a try. They’re ‘horror movies’ from her home word,” Kix said. He sounded quite interested in seeing them, so Jesse thought on it for a moment, then called back to the rest of the squad. “She evidently told them it’s some special time of year back on her home world, when they celebrate dark, scary stories and such, and kids dress up like monsters and beg for treats.”

“You guys up for trying some of General Lin’s scary movies?” The gist of his tone a challenge, wondering if they were man enough to watch. “I’m not dressing up as anything but you’re all free to shower me with treats,” he said with a laugh.

Hardcase immediately piped up with “I’m in! Maybe we can find some Mantel Mix and watch in the barracks, spread a sheet on the back wall. I hear you have to use a different type of projector to watch her stuff.”

Fives and Echo nodded; they had experience with the General’s technology. Fives said, “Yep, Earth shows are in what she calls 2 or 3D - dimensional - and not holo projected. But they sure are more colorful and clear to watch.”

“You know, some of that stuff she has from Earth is actually pretty rough to watch,” Echo warned. “Fives and I have seen some of it and they can get pretty intense…”

Hardcase sputtered out a laugh. “Oh come on Echo! We’re soldiers. There’s nothing we can’t handle!”

“Okay… I’ll head over and get her IPad and the projector. I’m sure she’ll be happy to let us borrow them.” Echo and Fives peeled off from the rest and headed to the Dragon Cave to get the stuff while the others walked to the 501st barracks, which was a row up from the modified container the General occupied with her faithful attachés, Fives and Echo.

“What are you going to pick for them to watch, Echo? I can see the wheels turning already,” Fives said with a chuckle. The General had some truly freaky stuff in her movie collection, and she’d watched many of the shows with Echo and Fives, grinning like a gargoyle as they jumped at the many scares during the course of the movies.

“Hmmm… Event Horizon, definitely. Maybe that Silence of the Lambs show? Oh and The Shining, that one is super freaky. I bet Hardcase will lose it over the crazy dude with the axe.” Echo’s eyes were gleaming at the thought of scaring the wits out of his brothers.

“Gotta put something funny in there too, though. What about that Thor: Ragnarok show? It’s got good action and is funny.” Fives was dropping his armor as fast as he could in their small bunk room, calling out suggestions while Echo rummaged in Lara’s cabinets.

“Yeah that’s a good show too. Man, I can’t find her stuff. She must have the IPad on her. Wonder when she’s gonna get back?,” Echo’s frustrated voice complained from her office. He’d searched her bunk, her small chest of drawers and now her desk, only managing to find her projector and speaker.

“She went with Rex and General Skywalker to report in at Command for the mission summary. I’m sure she’ll be back soon, if she and Rex didn’t take some long detour,” Fives added with a soft eye roll.

The door snapped open and the people in question strolled in, clearly in mid conversation about something. Lara arched an eyebrow, seeing Echo riffling through her desk, the projector and speaker lying on the flat surface. “Whatcha doin there, Echo?,” she asked in her typical curious drawl.

“Volte told Kix you showed them your horror movies on the way out to the mission and it scared them, so now Jesse and Hardcase want to prove they can’t be scared by your shows. I was looking for the stuff; I didn’t think you’d mind us using it.” Echo shrugged. He knew she wouldn’t mind; he’d be even less surprised if she suddenly volunteered to come watch with them.

“Ohhh…,” Lara said with a bright smile. “Oh definitely, here let me get you the iPad.” She dropped her backpack to the floor and opened one of the chambers up, pulled the tablet out and handed it to Echo. “I wish I could watch with y’all but I have to go to that leadership meeting with Kenobi and Anakin.” She looked regretfully over at Rex, and then said with a mischievous look, “You should watch some of those with them, Rex. I don’t think you’ve ventured into the scary movie genre yet, and they’re sure to need supervision.”

“How scary can it be after the things we’ve seen on the battlefield?,” the Captain said with a shrug.

Lara laughed. “Oh, it’s a different sort of scary than war. Trust me. It’s more…. Cerebral. Food for the imagination.” She smirked at him playfully and said, “I’ll be back tomorrow evening. I’ll expect a full report on what you watched.”

“Hey General, which ones do you recommend?,” Fives called out quickly.

She stopped and thought for a second. “Event Horizon is my favorite, so definitely that. Something Wicked This Way Comes is a very oldie but goodie. Silence of the Lambs, Nightmare on Elm Street, Hellraiser, The Shining, House on Haunted Hill… Oh and 13 Ghosts!” She paused, thinking again. “That’s quite a few… that should be pretty good for a start. Watch IT and Event Horizon last.”

Rex was shaking his head, knowing the things Lara suggested were probably going to raise hairs on his men; her other-worldly ways sometimes showed through in disturbing tastes. “I’m going to have to get all the of the men therapy after watching that stuff aren’t I?”

“Hey you’re tough soldiers…weren’t you just telling me how nothing phases you or some such?” She smiled and nudged his shoulder with her own. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back to snuggle with you and make it all better.” She flashed him a playful smirk. “I’ve got to go. You boys behave.” With that she turned and left the Dragon Cave, heading back to the Command Center to meet with Generals Kenobi and Skywalker for a short trip for the GAR leaders.

Echo finished setting up the iPad with the projector and speaker while Fives and Hardcase hung a sheet across the back wall of the 501st bunkhouse. Jesse, Kix and Rex were settling into chairs they’d pulled up around the projection system, and Kix was passing around Mantel Mix and fizzy drinks.

“We can watch this stuff all night tonight and then tomorrow we can go party at 79s. Best of both worlds, right guys?,” Kix said.

“Straight up!,” Jesse said with a laugh.

Rex was leaned back with his feet crossed at the ankles. He’d much rather have been with Lara on the leadership trip, but Skywalker had told him it wasn’t necessary. Even Cody hadn’t been invited. He still had some worries about what these movies were going to be like, but couldn’t deny he was somewhat excited to watch. Everybody needed a little thrill every once in a while.

Echo and Fives had decided to start with what Lara would call a ‘softball pitch’ and show them Thor: Ragnarok first. The boys of Torrent squad had never seen any of her movies at all, so it would ease the rest of the men into the format, plus it was a good movie anyway. The clones were startled at the color and richness of the 2D images; holographic shows and messages washed things out terribly. The movies were beautiful, realistic in that you felt you could reach out and touch the actors. Hardcase particularly loved the action and bright explosions. They all thought Fenrir the wolf was cool and Jesse wondered aloud what Commander Wolffe would have thought of the giant shaggy beast.

“He’d probably want one he could ride into battle too,” Rex muttered. The men all laughingly agreed.

They next switched pace and moved to Silence of the Lambs. It was such a dark, tense story, and the men groaned when Lecter got away at the end. Cannibalism was taboo even in their galaxy. Hardcase leaned over and impersonated the fff fff ffff fffffff in Echo’s ear after menacingly murmuring how he’d like to ‘eat his liver with fava beans and a nice Chianti.’ Hardcase had no idea what Chianti was, or fava beans for that matter, but he felt the line was pretty cool, as Echo swatted at him to get away. The chase at the end of the movie through the dark house as Buffalo Bill tried to trap and kill Clarice had the men on the edge of their seats, and Kix cheered when she finally unloaded her gun into the creep.

Fives picked the next movie in the line up - he chose Hellraiser. The men were all more and more confused at what the humans of Earth considered edgy entertainment. This frightening dude with pins in his head… holy kriff! The men were moving from tension over the plot lines to worry about what they were going to see next.

Echo transitioned them straight from Hellraiser into Nightmare on Elm Street. This one had an interesting premise; that you could be terrorized and chased, even killed within your dreams. It was concerning, even frightening to think about, but Hardcase frankly loved Freddy Kruger having knives for fingers. He wanted a glove just like it. The men all laughed, agreeing that Hardcase would be more likely to harm himself and his nethers with a glove like that, and then decided to take a stretch break and refill their snacks and drinks.

They let Kix choose the next title, as he ran through the list the General had recommended. “Hmmm. How about, ‘Something Wicked This Way Comes?’” Echo tapped it and started the movie. The suspense in the movie, seen through the eyes of children, gripped them all hard. They were all creeped out when the spiders attacked the boys in their room, the waves of insects sending chills up the soldiers’ spines. The men weren’t strangers to the concept of spiders; they were happy when the movie ended, and Jesse immediately volunteered to pick the next.

“What about… 13 Ghosts?,” he said musingly. “What even is a ghost,” he wondered aloud.

“Oh, the General said that was a good one. Scary but also kind of sad in parts. Like, we will find something to root for,” Fives said in explanation.

“She said a ghost is a remnant of a human’s spirit that remains behind after they die. On Earth, they can have good purposes or bad, and the bad ones work at scaring people,” Echo explained patiently.

“Put it on then!,” Jesse said bravely. Ghosts weren’t really a concept the clones had been raised with. The thought that something remained after death, that could terrorize and instill fear, really got to Kix and Jesse. Kix was especially captivated by the premise, since he felt himself haunted by the men he couldn’t save. The small undertone of pathos in 13 Ghosts actually struck home with him, and Kix felt rather conflicted about the movie. He wondered how his buddy Volte felt about some of these shows.

The men moved on to House on Haunted Hill, and had to admit - that one got to them. Lots of jump scares, so much tension; the men actually flinched in their chairs and at one point Rex stood up like he was going to defend himself. All of his squad laughed at his reaction, but they weren’t much better. The movies were starting to get to them, making them nervous and flighty, and they could see now what the Dragons had been talking about when they said the General’s movies scared them.

“Okay guys. Short break, and then we have three more that the General personally recommended. The Shining, It, and Event Horizon. She said save them for last,” Echo said with a smile. The men took a refresher break and then settled in for the home stretch. They were already tired from their movie marathon, but were enjoying themselves.

The Shining straight up scared Jesse and Hardcase. The two little twin girls standing at the end of the hall, calling “Come play with us” had the men staring with wide eyes and wondering what fresh hell little Danny had landed in. Hardcase called out “Run, Danny!! They’re not real!,” and threw Mantel Mix at the screen in frustration. When Danny’s father Jack went to room 237 and found the female ghost in the bathroom, Jesse dropped his drink and snacks, pushed his chair over backwards and hit the floor with a flop that made everyone stop and laugh. Echo paused the movie quickly so they could clean up his mess. The man had been happily into things when the beautiful, tall, naked girl was on screen but he patently didn’t appreciate her becoming an old, drowned, rotting corpse. They slogged their way through the terror of Jack’s mental breakdown and his chasing his family through the hotel, crashing through the door with an axe.

At the end of the movie the men were all silent for a moment, and then Kix piped up, “We better hide any axes from Hardcase.” The men burst out laughing at that.

Hardcase chuckled and then rebutted, “I see that more as a Jesse thing. Him beating a door down and then saying ‘Heeeerrre’s Jesse!’” The men agreed that might actually make more sense.

Everyone settled in for IT, and were slowly, progressively horrified as the movie went on. The tension and the creep factor had them all sitting with their arms crossed defensively across their chests, jaws clenched as they did their best to maintain a brave air of control. But some of the jump scares in the movie got to them, and Fives, who’d seen the movie before, found himself laughing at his brothers with glee at their discomfort. He couldn’t wait til they saw the finale of Event Horizon. It would hit more close to home for them, as it was a movie set in space.

When IT finished and rolled credits, the men all stood, shaking their heads. Jesse looked over at Echo and gave him a wry look. “This is what they call ‘entertainment’ on Earth? Some of this is kriffed up!”

“Yeah, they’re hard on the imagination. But there’s a lot of good, pure entertainment on her IPad, too.” Echo smiled. “We saved the General’s favorite for last. Let’s see how you handle that one.”

The men once more got comfortable for the final movie. This time, Kix, Jesse and Hardcase dispensed with the chairs and settled in on the floor with pillows and a couple of their thin bunk mattresses. Their interest was piqued as they realized the movie was set in space, and spoke of things they could relate to, such as light speed and exploring other galaxies, and mysterious space ships that return from cryptic, secret missions. The clones were immediately sucked into the story, following the crew of the Lewis and Clarke as they worked to recover the Event Horizon and determine what had happened to the derelict ship.

The mystery started to deepen as the ship came alive. When the first torn and shredded, frozen body floated past the sight of one of their crew, Kix sucked in a breath in horror. What could do that to a body? The scientific theory behind the movie was entirely plausible to the clones; they were familiar with the principles governing the humans in the movie: the need for air, the laws of gravity. What they couldn’t wrap their minds around was, what had happened to the crew? It was a horror they faced in their daily lives; they depended on the safety and security of their ships to keep them alive. When it became more and more apparent that the ship itself was haunted and alive with a terrible evil, it sent chills into their souls. And when they realized what had happened to the crew, driven insane by the evil the ship had brought back from another dimension, killing each other in an orgy of horror, they all collectively gasped and covered their mouths in shock. The Lewis and Clarke crew started to all slowly go insane themselves, starting with the Event Horizon’s creator, Dr Weir. The culminating awfulness of him ripping his own eyes out, as he prepared the ship to return to hell left them all speechless and sick to their stomachs. But the jump scare at the end, leaving them questioning whether Stark had in fact escaped or not… Kix stood and had to leave the room to clear his mind.

For sure the men realized the General’s collection of Earthen horror was nothing to sniff at, and they all retired to bed, illuminated in ways they never thought they’d be. Jesse and Hardcase lay in their beds quietly, memories of the movies flashing across the screen of their minds as they tried to relax and get some sleep. Rex went to his own bunk, shaking his head at the rather awful imagination of the humans on Earth. He’d merely thought he’d seen it all in war; clearly he had never ventured into horror such as those humans had.

The next day, the men lounged until it was time to head to 79s. They had all slept in various stages of poorly, images of the movies coming back to startle them awake. Rex woke, feeling completely unrested and affected by all of the things he’d watched the previous evening. For sure, that last movie was going to be with him every time he went to space on a mission now. ‘Damn it, Lara!,’ he thought to himself. ‘Showing us that stuff, knowing what it was gonna be like.’ He was going to have to talk to her about these people of hers and where their minds were.

The squad got to 79s as a group, moving among their brothers smoothly, finding a large booth with a free table, and getting drinks ordered. A couple of beautiful Pantoran females wended their way through the crowd to the men’s booth, Jesse and Hardcase making room for them to sit. Those two were always welcoming of pretty ladies. Rex saw Cody at the bar and moved over to chat with his friend, while the men sat drinking at their table with the attractive Pantorans. The Captain had no idea they’d brought spice with them, nor that the men were passing it around to enhance their fun while he was away from the table.

When Rex finally made his way back to his men, he picked up his drink to finish it, completely unaware that Fives had spiked it with the spice they’d all been sharing. At first, Rex had watched his men laughing and joking, thinking they were really feeling their drinks tonight. But soon, he was guffawing right along with them, chuckling at their illicit humor, eyeing the women a bit lasciviously. A small part of his mind sent him a panicked warning, that he shouldn’t be looking at anybody else…what if Lara got back and saw him? But he couldn’t help himself, they were just so beautiful, and he was feeling so good….

The bar tender called last rounds and announced the joint was shutting down in thirty minutes; Cody saw Rex and the rest of Torrent Company stumble to the sky taxi pad outside to leave, all of them weaving unsteadily. Well well - they took their shore leave seriously, he thought to himself. Even Rex was eyeing those Pantoran beauties in a way that had surprised him. Maybe he should check on them when he got back to the base, make sure they got to their barracks okay. Maybe he should reserve that memory of Rex with his arm around one of those girls for a later date as well….

The brave men of the 501st stumbled back to their barracks, all mostly supporting each other as they walked unsteadily along the road. Kix hit the button for the door and they spilled into the building, moving for their separate bunks. By this time, the spice was making them see and hear things that weren’t there. Jesse stumbled to his bunk, then needed to emergently hit the refresher. Echo walked over to an empty bunk and flopped down on it, hearing whispered voices in his head. He started to hug himself, rocking his body a little and whimpering. Fives sat down on the floor of the barracks and stared up at the light fixtures, as if they were the most captivating things he’d ever seen, like a moon. A moon he needed to gaze at, a moon he needed to praise - the most beautiful moon he’d ever seen! Hardcase was sitting on his bunk, his face in his hands. He looked over at the pile of laundry on the foot of his bed and slowly picked up a pair of briefs, spreading them over his face, his nose and mouth poking out of the crotch hole. In his fuzzy mind, he saw not fabric, but a mask of skin. He started speaking lowly, in a menacing voice, murmuring, “Hello… Clarice.” Kix sat in a chair in the center of the room near Fives, who was softly howling at the light fixtures by then, and spun around quietly, taking in the strange horror of the room and channeling Dr Weir. Rex also sat down in a chair, his mind a whirling mess of color and noise, seeing the chaos of the men all tripping before him, images of the horror movies rushing back to the forefront of his thought.

The door behind them snapped open, and Cody walked in with General Lin beside him. He’d run into her as she returned from the short leadership meeting, and she was headed to the Dragon Cave to rest and clean up. Cody mentioned how Rex’s group had been acting at 79s, and his intention to check on them. Lara felt some mild concern and curiosity, hearing that even Rex was seemingly affected by their excursion to the bar, and volunteered to accompany Cody for a wellness check.

When the door to the Torrent Company bunk room opened, the two leaders both froze, taking in the sight before them. A naked Fives sitting in the floor, howling at the lights on the ceiling. Jesse poking his face through the door of the refresher saying, “Heeeeeere’s JESSE!,” and leering at the rest of the group. Echo was staring at them a little sightlessly, seeing twin girls in little jumper dresses rather than the clone Commander and his General. He started talking to his index finger in a strange little voice as the girls called to him, saying ‘Come play with us, Echo!’ Hardcase was sitting on his bed with a pair of underwear over his face, moving his head around and saying, “FFF FFF FFFFF!” Rex suddenly felt like he’d seen too much, and his hands gripped at the arms of the chair like he was strapped to it, shouting ‘Oooohhh my GOOOODDD!”

Lara’s eyebrows couldn’t have gone any higher. “What in tarnation?! What the hell have they gotten into now?” She watched a moment longer, and suddenly laughed, pulling her phone out to record this nonsense for posterity and blackmail. “This calls for some good theme music!,” she murmured as she thumbed through the apps in her phone, settling on the Eurythmics’ ‘Sweet Dreams Are Made of These.’

Cody was staring, petrified in horror and confusion. He’d thought they were pretty blitzed when they stumbled out the door, but this… this was not normal. “This looks like a bad spice trip, General.”

She giggled, watching as Fives sat on his haunches, throwing his head back and crooning, “Aroooooooooogh!!!” “This is some good shit, Cody. I wish I’d been there to watch them at the bar. I’m so keeping this for blackmail down the line.” Lara panned the iPhone around the room, snorting as Jesse peeked back at her with wild eyes from the refresher. Hardcase had her laughing outright with his briefs over his face. This was CLASSIC, she thought with amusement. Rex was still staring at the general activity in the room, shoving his body against the back of the chair like the noise and lights were overstimulating. Kix was slowly spinning in a circle chattering away about taking the ship to hell. Lara looked over at Cody and grinned at him happily. “See THIS is why we don’t do drugs, class.”

Cody shook his head in wonder. “Those Pantoran girls Jesse and Hardcase were mooning over at their table must have slipped them some hard stuff. I wonder if Rex even knew what happened.” He walked over and jerked a blanket off a nearby bunk and threw it over Fives, who whipped his head around with a snarl and growled, “I’m a WOLF!” Cody jumped back a little in surprise at his vehemence.

Lara put her phone down on a foot locker, making sure it had a good wide view of the room, and moved over to Rex, standing directly in front of him and waiting until his eyes managed to focus on her dreamily. Rex smiled groggily and slurred, “Hey there, beautiful…” Lara laughed softly in reply.

“Hey there, handsome. Come on, up you go. Let’s get you out of those clothes and into a bed.” She coaxed the Captain out of the chair, prying his fingers gently off of the arms and nudging him towards a bunk. It didn’t matter whose it was at this point, so long as she and Cody could get them settled and asleep so the spice could wear off.

Rex giggled drunkenly and let her push him to the empty bed. “Ohhh look, Cody! The General is undressing me! Shhhh… I don’t think anybody is supposed to know ‘bout us, Gen’ral…,” he muttered unevenly. “Hey, that tickles… want to know where else I’m ticklish?” Lara smiled and shook her head as she pushed him down to pull his boots off. “Wanna climb in here and keep me warm?”

“Not tonight, lover boy. Be a good Captain and shush. Sleep now. You’re gonna feel this in the morning, and if you don’t remember, I will gladly provide proof,” Lara said, her voice thick with gleeful amusement. Thankfully, Rex settled down and started snoring almost immediately after she’d covered him with a blanket.

Cody was nowhere near as gentle with the others. He shoved, pulled and cajoled Fives to a bunk and under cover, working to ignore his protests about how wolves didn’t sleep in a bed. He yanked the underwear off Hardcase’s head and pushed him down on his back, laughing ruefully as the man grumbled about whether the lambs were still screaming. “You’re going to be screaming tomorrow if you don’t go to sleep, trooper.” Standing up he pondered which clone to go after next and asked Lara in an exasperated tone “What the hell did you let them watch, General?! If I didn’t know any better I’d say they were all crazy, the spice notwithstanding.”

“They wanted to watch scary movies from Earth, Cody. Who am I to refuse them some good entertainment and suspense, especially since it’s Halloween back home. Watching movies like that is a Halloween tradition. I didn’t expect them to go get roofied after watching all that stuff!” Lara giggled as she moved over to Kix, who was still spinning slowly in his seat, murmuring “Where we’re going, we don’t need eyes to see…” Lara chuffed a laugh out and said, “Come on Dr. Weir, time for bed.” She hauled the medic out of the chair and shoved him toward his bunk, repeating the process of getting him in some semblance of comfort and pulling a blanket over him. “At least this stuff didn’t turn them into assholes that don’t cooperate. I’ve seen people on Earth take some hard stuff that turned them into looney tunes that fought like they were in a battle for their lives, scratching, clawing, kicking and screaming. This is pretty docile, honestly,” she drawled to the clone Commander over her shoulder. Lara wandered over to Echo next and grabbed his hand, covering little Tony for a moment until Echo looked her in the eyes. “Tony says dull boys need sleep. Be a good boy and lay down, my Echo.” She pushed him gently back and helped him get his clothes off and settled.

That left Jesse in the refresher. Cody had already moved to try and herd the clone out of the room, but Jesse shut the door in his face and laughed rather sinisterly. Lara walked over to stand next to Cody and her eyebrows shot up as she heard Jesse’s voice call in a high falsetto “We all float down here…” Lara looked over to her friend and said, “Oooohhh he’s bringing out the big scary guns now. I hate that damn movie.” She stepped over to the door and called through the small crack, “Jesse, if you don’t drop the IT script now, I’m sedating you. I’m not playing.” He cackled darkly in reply. Lara looked at Cody with resignation and shook her head. “On three, Commander - we’ll open the door and move in to tackle him. Ready?” Cody nodded sharply, settling himself for the sack. “One… two…”

She didn’t get to three. Before she could complete the count, the door shot open and a fully naked Jesse appeared before them in all his tanned and tattooed glory. Lara’s eyes flew open in surprise, her mouth forming a perfect ‘O’, and all three of them froze, staring at each other for a crystalline moment of confusion, suspense and hilarity. Then Jesse broke for freedom, sprinting past Lara and Cody like a prize winning Olympian heading for the finish line. He ran through the barracks, past all his sleeping brothers, down a hall that made a loop, and ended up back in the same room he’d just left. Lara and Cody chased after him, Lara with a blanket, struggling to run while laughing hysterically. “Jesse!!! Quit running! Don’t look, Ethel!!!” She could barely get words out, she was laughing so hard while half-heartedly chasing the naked clone.

Cody snatched the blanket from her hands and rounded the last corner to see Jesse standing in the center of the room, the clone’s wild gaze snapping back and forth in panic as he tried to decide what to do next, legs splayed, hands up as if preparing for his next break. Lara was singing “Here he comes, boogity boogity, there he goes… boogity boogity, and he ain’t wearing no clothes!! Oh yes they call him the streak…” She burst out into peals of laughter, whooping as she saw Cody do a flying tackle with the blanket out, enfolding Jesse in it as they both hit the floor. Lara staggered over to the two men, tears of laughter spilling down her cheeks, out of breath from both the chase and the situation.

The clone Commander was wrestling the naked Torrent Company man beneath the blanket and looked up at Lara a little helplessly. “General, if you have some of that sedative on your person, it might be a good time for it.”

“Nah, Cody, he’ll be fine.” She leaned down and peeked beneath the blanket, having guessed which lump was Jesse’s head rather than his firm butt. “Hey trooper… you ready to get some sleep? You going to play nice?”

Jesse quit struggling, looking back at the General a little vacantly. “Those movies were a trip, General. I don’t think I want to see anymore.”

Lara snickered in response. “Okay, Jesse, no more scary movies for you. Come on.” She held out a hand to him, and helped him up as Cody dragged himself off the floor behind him. The two put the now exhausted clone to bed, covering him up with the blanket Cody had just been chasing him with. Lara reached over and patted his butt with a smirk. “Sweet dreams, Jesse. Man, I sure hope I got THAT on camera!” She shook her head, looking at Cody salaciously. “Can you imagine? I’ll have Jesse doing anything I want for months, just to keep me from bringing it up!”

“I think you have enough material for a successful blackmail for the rest of their lives, Lara.” He surveyed all of the snoring, slumbering men quietly and let out a sigh of relief. Cody knew they were all going to wish they’d died in their sleep in the morning, both from the hangover and from the confused vestiges of memory they’d have, none of them quite sure what they’d done, or how they’d ended up in bed.

“Don’t you know it, Cody,” she said with a mischievous tone. She stepped over to Rex, leaned down and kissed his temple softly, whispering something private, but most likely loving, in his ear. Straightening she turned, and she and Cody left the barracks. “Well, that was an adventure, Commander. Care for a little breather of whiskey at the Dragon Cave before bed?”

“As long as there’s no spice or video recording involved,” he replied wryly.

“I would never do that to you, Codes,” she said with a grin. “Come on. Hard work with crazy people deserves a little refreshment.” She reached over and squeezed his shoulder with a smile, walking with him the short distance to her living quarters. It would stand empty tonight, since Fives and Echo were both passed out in the 501st barracks. But she and Cody would forever have some glorious dirt on the rest of the squad. Lara was sure the image of Jesse running by her, bare ass buck naked, would remain burned into her retinas for the rest of her life, but hey - what a nice image to have seared into your memory.

She and Cody toasted each other with a little clink of their glasses over her desk. Cody took a sip and sighed, gruffly gasping out, “That’s some smooth stuff, General. What is this?”

“It’s my Scotch - type of whiskey distilled on Earth. Aged for fourteen years, in a rum cask so it’s got a sweeter flavor. I love this stuff.” She took a healthy swig of it, pursing her lips as she savored the taste of the alcohol. She lazily pulled her phone out of her pocket, opening the small handheld device and flicking through programs with her thumb until she pulled up the video she’d taken within the barracks. Cody watched as she giggled softy to herself, sipping her whiskey while viewing the chaos on the small screen. From where he sat, he could just see the image of Jesse running by, all parts a-flapping as he streaked by the camera, Lara and Cody following behind like two zoo keepers running after an escaped animal. Lara chuckled deeply, then turned and propped her elbows on her desk, placing the phone on the surface and looking at Cody with bright eyes. “Cody. I think tonight is the start of a truly beautiful friendship, and one of the best damn Halloween’s I’ve ever seen.”

“I thought we were already friends, General,” Cody said with mild surprise. “And, I’m not sure what ‘Halloween’ is. Is that some Earth holiday?”

“Yes! It’s one of the best holidays they have. It’s said there, that on All Hallows Eve - Halloween now - the veil between the living and the dead and all manner of dark creatures is thin enough to allow passage from one dimension to the other. Spirits and ghosts, goblins and ghouls come out to play for just that one night, and it’s celebrated by decorating your home with creepy things like spiders’ webs or ghosts, skeletons and such. It’s a truly fun night, for kids. They dress up like scary monsters or their favorite scary movie character and go around asking for candy.” She smiled wistfully, then turned back to the Commander with a mischievous grin. “And we were already friends, of course, but now we are even better friends, because you and I have the dirt on Torrent Company, and that’s a powerful position to be in.” She winked at the clone commander and raised her glass for a clink.

“General, that whole squad and most of your Company are already sunk so deep in ‘dirt’ as you call it, hiding your relationship with Rex, that it would take a construction crew to dig them out of the hole. To be perfectly honest, I’m not sure anybody would be very surprised at seeing what we witnessed tonight, other than finding Rex involved in it. The others, though - I’m not sure people will even blink too hard at it. Most will laugh. Eventually even those boys involved will find it a heroic adventure that only adds to their persona.” He shot Lara a small one sided smirk, taking another sip of his drink. “This ‘Halloween’ of yours does sound intriguing. I hope the men get as much out of it as you did.”

Lara laughed softly at his rebuttal. “Maybe so, maybe so, Cody. But rumor is one thing. A video is forever. And when people find out about Jesse’s special tattoo…,” Lara sat back in her seat with a smile. “Now I’ll forevermore know how ‘Lucky You’ is spelled in Aurebesh,” she said with a grin and arched eyebrow. “Can’t get much more out of one night than that!”

Cody laughed and finished his whiskey off with a long drag and then gasped a little as it burned its way down his throat. He placed his glass on her desk and picked up his helmet, then looked at Lara with a smile. “Well, General, it’s a been a night to remember.” He turned to leave and then thought better of it, rounding back to say one last thing. “Be sure to tell Rex since he was passed out, I took you on a damn good date with lots of nakedness, heavy breathing and good times involved with blankets. I can’t wait to see him trying to puzzle that one out at mess hall.” The Commander gave her a wink and proceeded to the exit, her laughter following him to the door. Before he placed his helmet back on, Cody smiled back at Lara, his friend, giving her a small two fingered salute. “Happy Halloween, General.”

“Happy Halloween, Cody,” she said with a smile of her own.

@523rdrebel @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @villanousace @mythical-illustrator @theogfulcrum22 @king-chaos-world @sunshinesdaydream @starrylothcat @anxiouspineapple99 @sev-on-kamino @mire-draws-things @the-bad-batch-baroness @cloneloverrrrr @mandos-mind-trick @padawancat97 @dukeoftheblackstar @wolffegirlsunite @isthereanechoinhere96 @jediknightjana @wackylurker @moonlightwarriorqueen @wizardofrozz @multi-fan-dom-madness

@starqueensthings

Beautiful dividers by @dystopicjumpsuit and me 🙃

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asskickedbygirl · 2 years ago

Note

Request for smutty and fluffy Johnny fic where fem reader is an actress turned new cast member for Jackass Forever, but grew up having the biggest crush on Johnny. She gets caught on someone’s live saying how hard work is because of how hot she finds Johnny, and it goes viral.

Hot For Knoxville [Johnny Knoxville x F!Reader]

Desc: Anon covered it but i made it a little more … dirty

A/n: thank you for request! haven’t written any silver foxville but he’s still hot so here is this. sorry there isn’t much fluff til the end i got kinda carried away… lmk if you enjoy! also sorry it took so long i deleted it at first…

Warnings: smut (18+), p in v, age gap, alcohol and drug use, praise kink, oral (m receiving)

2.7k words

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You sat in Rachel’s apartment with her Jasper and Poopies after a long day of press. Being the new cast members, you started a tradition of hanging out after shooting or press and ended up becoming close friends. You and Rachel were on the couch talking and passing round a blunt while the guys sat in the kitchen. “So what were you thinking when Johnny first dmed you?” Rachel asked, inhaling the smoke into her lungs. “Well I mean at first I was kinda hoping it was for reasons other than professional.” Rachel laughed and handed you the joint. “Oh really?” You grinned, “Well who wouldn’t want Johnny Knoxville sliding into their dms?” Rachel giggled then tilted her head. “Isn’t he a little old for you?” You shrugged. “Hey the silver hair kinda does it for me. It was actually kinda hard to concentrate at work.” Rachel urged you to go on. “Well he was just so hot. I was constantly blushing and stammering around him. I still get all flustered when he talks to me sometimes like who the hell gets to work with their prepubescent sexual awakening?!” The guys began laughing and gasping, clapping their hands over their mouth and turning to face you. Your heart stopped at their reactions. “What?” You asked but feared you already knew the answer. “We’re on live.” Poopies replied, your face immediately turning a bright red.

You dreaded the next day when you’d be doing a full cast interview for some morning show. Naturally, someone had screen-recorded the live and it had done its rounds all over twitter and instagram. You knew Johnny had to know and that drove you crazy. You showed up to press, the crew already tormenting you over the video before Johnny even arrived. “Gonna find work hard today Y/n?” Wee-man teased. “Damn, maybe I should let my hair go gray.” Mocked Steve-o. Your eyes had rolled enough for ten years in the ten minutes you were waiting for your silver fox coworker. And then he waltzed in, immediately beelining for you at the coffee table, a wide grin on his face. “Well hello Y/n.” Your eyes rolled again, not even bothering to respond as you smiled flatly. “And how was your evening yesterday?” He asked as you gritted your teeth. “Very funny Knoxville.” He cackled his typical cackle. “Well hey I’m sorry! I’ll try not to make this hard for you today, I’ll look a little less sexy.” You gave him the stink eye and he laughed again. “Your heads so big right now I’m surprised you could even fit through the door.” He laughed again. “Alright, alright, I’ll leave you alone. I know you get flustered if I talk to you for too long.” You shook your head with disapproval as he walked away, leaving you with bright red cheeks.

Work was harder than usual that day what with all of the guys tormenting you about live stream gate. What was worse was how hot you found Johnny when he was being so cocky. Maybe you didn’t regret boosting his ego after all… Tremaine invited you out with the whole cast that night to celebrate the last day of press before the premiere and you gratefully accepted, never a better day to drink away your shame. You got ready, opting for a shorter dress for a more slutty approach to distract everyone from your embarrassment and headed out.

As soon as you arrived you headed straight for the bar to catch up with everyone else seeing as you arrived sort of late. By the time your first vodka shot poured down your throat a certain southern man had joined you. “Nice of you to join us.” He charmed and you ignored him, throwing back the next shot “Woah, maybe go easy there, don’t wanna be hungover on the red carpet now do we?” You wiped the corners of your mouth. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.” Johnny bit his lip. “Sorry for today, it’s funny s’all. Not really used to being flattered too much nowadays.” You peered up at him. “Really?” He shrugged. “Glad to know I have one fan of the silver hair.” You smiled. “Alright Silver Foxville.” Johnny gave you a quizzical look and scoffed. “What did you call me?” You laughed heartedly, “Just something I’m trying out.” You gazed up at him, your head sort of reeling at the fact you were kind of actually flirting with Johnny.

You both returned to the group and spent the rest of the night drinking and getting progressively more touchy with your childhood crush. Although you were almost two decades younger than your costar, he still made your heart skip a thousand beats and his sudden surge in flirty behaviour was making your head swarm. “So, I was your sexual awakening huh?” Johnny asked, raising his brows suggestively. You laughed, getting more comfortable with the scandal now his arm was draped around your shoulders. “God don’t even. I remember watching Jackass when I was like 12 and it was the bit where you had a bunch of bees as your underwear and I was just obsessed with you from that point on, you were like my sex icon.” He cackled loudly again, another proper Johnny, hand on belly cackle. “Good to know, good to know. And has much changed?” You rolled your eyes. “Not answering that.” Johnny looked smug then, “Oh really?” Your demeanour changed as Johnny wet his lips, his almost lustful eyes boring into you. “You wanna get out of here?” He asked and your heart stopped. You hesitated, shocked at the underlying intention of his question but agreed anyways.

Johnny made up some lame excuse that you were both tired and would get an uber together but you knew they didn’t buy it, not that you cared. The ride to yours was intense, you sat close together and tried to make normal conversation but the butterflies in your tummy were running rampant. He just looked at you with these almost knowing eyes and would bite his lip every now and again. You eventually arrived at yours as you unlocked the door and encouraged Johnny to sit while you got yourselves beers. He leaned back on your couch and had his legs spread wide, fuck. You handed him the beer and intended in launching into some irrelevant conversation to deflect from your nerves but he had other ideas. “Rachel’s right you know, I’m too old for you.” You sighed and took a sip from your beer. “Are we still on this?” Johnny took the bottle from your hands and set it down. You knitted your brows together but your face softened when you saw your crushes blown out pupils. “You got a thing for older guys?” You swallowed. “Maybe.” He smiled. “You got a thing for me though don’t you?” You bit your lip.

Johnny stood up from his position and looked down at you, hand reaching up to stroke your cheek gently, a look of wonder in your eyes. “You think about me?” You nodded as his thumb brushed against your lips. “Think about me when you’re touching yourself?” His thumb slipped into your mouth then, his words and actions making your panties pool. You sucked on his thumb obediently, lightly nodding. “Good girl.” You whimpered and his eyes lit up. “You like when I call you a good girl?” You pressed your thighs together tightly and nodded again. Usually you wouldn’t be into this stuff, but when it was Johnny you’d be wet at anything he did. He removed his thumb from your lips and grabbed your chin. “Open.” He muttered and you complied, allowing him to spit into your mouth. He scoffed as you swallowed it. “Jesus. I could do anything to you right now and you’d let me. Wouldn’t you?” You bit your lip again, your pleading eyes still looking up at him. He grabbed your chin more forcefully this time, “Wouldn’t you?” You verbally answered, voice wavering.

Your cheeks were a splotchy red as your eyes gazed up at him innocently, willing to submit to this act Johnny had put on. He lifted his arm down to pick up your hand that was lying on your lap, bringing it towards his ‘Knoxville’ belt. You complied with his wishes, undoing it as quickly as possible. You zipped his pants down and reached right into his boxers, taking his semi-hard cock out. You grabbed it by its shaft and looked up at PJ, waiting for instructions obediently. He smiled and nodded, “Go on.” You began pumping him slowly then before licking his tip gently. He groaned at the contact, his cock becoming fully erect. You got to work swirling your tongue around the tip, tasting his precum and moving your hand up and down the shaft. Eventually Johnny’s hand found it’s way to the back of your head, pushing it lightly to encourage you to take him in fully. You did as he urged, struggling to get half way down but sucking him nevertheless. He groaned while did so, beginning to move your head up and down himself now, his hips slightly bucking. “God you’re good at that,” He moaned, your eyes fluttering up to meet his lustful ones. “So pretty with my cock in your mouth baby.” You shut your thighs tightly at the praise and Johnny smiled when he noticed.

“You wanna touch yourself?” You nodded, pulling your tight dress up to fold at your waist, giving PJ a teasing glance at your panties. He bit his lip and continued pushing you down to take more of him in while your hands slipped under the band, fingers moving to rub your clit. You moaned softly against Johnny’s cock, the vibrations causing him to mirror your noise. That’s when he began gathering your hair up to hold a firm grip on you, the pushing and pulling getting rougher. Your pace with your fingers quickened as you began gagging on Johnny’s cock, the tip hitting the back of your throat. “Put a finger inside of yourself.” Johnny panted. You moved your ass to allow yourself better access, slipping a finger in while saliva began dripping down your chin. “There you go, good girl.” The praise caused you to moan again and add an extra finger. Johnnys pace increased so forcefully your motions inside of yourself stopped, only concentrating on breathing through your nose as the older man face fucked you. It got to a point you figured he had to come before he pulled your mouth off of him, strings of saliva still connecting you.

You wiped your chin with your hand, taking your other one out of your panties while Johnny took his pants completely off, his shirt with it. You bit your lip and pulled off the rest of your dress as well as your panties, admiring Johnny’s toned body despite his age. He grinned seductively when he saw you bare in front of him and at his mercy. He took your chin between his index and his thumb once again to tilt your head up towards him. “You’re too pretty for your own good. You know that?” You blushed like a schoolgirl even though you had just sucked the man’s dick thirty seconds prior. He took a seat next to you on the couch and pulled you to straddle his lap, seating you just above his cock. He rubbed his hand against your mound as he leaned in and kissed you roughly. It became apparent that that was the first time the two of you had even kissed and boy you were not wasting it. Lips and teeth clashing, tongues battling for dominance, soft whimpers let out as he continued to rub your clit. You pulled away, “I need you Johnny.” He smiled and leaned his head back, “Then get me.” He motioned towards his dick and you realised he wanted you to fuck him. You complied but were initially skeptical at his willingness to give up control for a moment, but maybe he had an ulterior motive.

You reached back and took his dick in your hand, already wet with your spit and his pre-cum and began lowering yourself. You whimpered as he breached into you, gripping his shoulder to steady yourself but noticed he made no efforts to help. In fact, Johnny had his arms up, leaning his head against his interlocked hands. “Go on.” He spoke, biting his lip and pushing his hips up lightly, teasing you. It became clear he was doing this on purpose, letting you do all the pathetic work to degrade you, and you weren’t even mad about it. You did as you were told, eventually getting down all the way before lifting again. It was hard to get a proper pace going when it was a one man job, just you fucking yourself with Johnnys cock while he watched on with delight. You whimpered and panted as you began bouncing, still steadying yourself with his shoulders. “Does that feel good?” He asked, taunting you. You looked him in the eyes and nodded, “Yeah.” He smiled back. “Hmmm. You like fucking yourself or do you want me to help?” You sighed, “Can you help?” He laughed, “Why didn’t you ask in the first place?”

Johnny grabbed your hips and pulled you down so you were fully seated on his cock, causing you to moan out before he pulled you off once more, slamming you back down immediately after. His pace became relentless, your mind fogging up as you let him fuck you. “You gonna find it hard to work tomorrow? Hmmm? Gonna find it hard to walk maybe.” You couldn’t reply, fucked out of your mind. You didn’t expect Knoxville to be such a dom in bed, certainly didn’t expect him to fuck you so well either. You moaned out louder than usual when he hit that spot inside of you. “Right there.” You managed to croak out, head leaning into Johnnys neck now, “Oh right there huh?” Johnny matched his stroke from before, hitting the spot with every thrust. Not before long he had brought you to the very edge, your moans hindering as you held your breath, trying not to release the loud noises that wished to be let out. You subconsciously bit his neck softly. “Let me hear you.” He muttered, continuing his pace. You pulled away and moaned pornographically as you fell off the edge, feeling your orgasm wash over you as you came on his cock. Johnny continued to plow into you, overstimulation making you convulse and whimper. “S’okay. I’m gonna cum inside you now sweetheart. That okay?” You nodded with your eyes shut, still whimpering. Johnny’s hips started stuttering until he grabbed your hips and pulled you all the way down forcefully, spilling inside of you as deep as he could. He moaned loudly as he finished, a sound you wish could be replayed in your head over and over.

“Fuck.” He muttered, panting heavily. You grinded your hips gently against him before pulling off, using his shoulders to do so. He groaned as he saw the cum spilling out of you, making a mess on your thighs. “God, let me clean you up.” He lifted you off his lap and made you lay down on the couch before putting his boxers back on and wandering around your tiny apartment to find your bathroom. He returned with a towel and began wiping your core gently. You admired him as he did it so meticulously, with such care despite ruining you a few minutes before. You tangled your fingers in his hair and passed him a gentle smile. “You alright?” He asked and you nodded. “Didn’t expect you to fuck so well old man.” He laughed at your snarky remark, clambering on top of you. “Old man?” He nipped you on the neck and you giggled. “Coming from the woman creaming her pants when I call her a good girl.” You pushed his face gently, acting as if your cheeks weren’t flushing at just the mention of the words. “You think the guys will know we fucked?” You asked, pushing Johnny’s silver hair off his forehead. He smiled, “Well maybe they’ll have an idea when you start walking all funny down the red carpet.” You covered your mouth as you laughed wholeheartedly.

End.

@gnarkillknoxville @steve-osahottie @izzaaaaaa @jackassvivalabam03 @kristinee @ckygetsjobs @jackussy420 @spoookyberry @lovexjoe

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hotforharrysheart · 2 years ago

Text

Permanent Love Part 1

“They’ll be here any minute, and when we tell them what we have planned it's gonna be a super rush. The girls and I wanna take Helen to shop tomorrow and visit the spa for nails and toes...and..."

"Baby, you can do this, take a deep breath," he runs his hand under your breast, "how's this feelin'?" You lay your head back on his shoulder, "It's good." He kisses down your neck and grinds his hips into your bum, "Show me again?"

"Harry! This’ll be the 5th time this morning!"

"Come on baby, wanna see my mark." You turn slightly and he pulls up your shirt to expose your newly inked skin. He leans forward and kisses the bee then traces his initials, "I love ya so much" he mumbles against your skin.

"Mmmm, Harry..." you moan as he works his way up to your nipple. He attaches his mouth and starts nibbling and the doorbell rings.

He sighs and leans his forehead to your collarbone. “Guess this’ll hafta wait,” he says pulling back and tugging your shirt down.

You sigh as his fingers graze your breast as he tugs your shirt down. “Ugh! If we just had 15 minutes…” you say, lip sticking out in a pout.

“Bu’ we don’, s’lets go,” he says, pulling away from you and going to the door and adjusting himself along the way. He was happy to see them, of course he was, but he’s cursing the timing. He smiles his most charming smile and opens the door to greet the Chapmans.

“Harry!” Helen gushes reaching for his face to kiss.

“Hey Helen, It’s nice ta see ya! Ya doin’ alrigh’?” he says as she kisses his cheeks.

“Harry.” Ron says shaking his hand and patting his back.

“How was ya flight?” Harry asks as he welcomes them into the foyer.

“It was beautiful,” Helen says looking around, “Where’s my sweet, sweet girl?”

“I’m here, I’m here,” you say coming into the room wiping your hands on a tea towel. Looking around you see your laptop is open to Hayley’s lingerie store, to a particularly, uh-hum, scandalous look, and you slap the top down quickly.

“Mwah, Mwah,” you kiss her cheeks and greet Ron with a hug.

Cal brings in their bags and nods as he backs out the door. “Thank Cal!” Harry hollars, “See ya tomorrow night, yeah?” Harry says with a smile. Cal has been invited to the surprise vow renewal you have planned for Ron and Helen. They’re here to celebrate their 45th anniversary and after Helen had casually told you and Harry they hadn’t really had a wedding ceremony all those years ago, you two had cooked up an opportunity for them to have a vow renewal ceremony out by the pool at sunset the day after the show. You and the girls had big plans for Helen including a new dress and some time at the spa and Harry had planned to take Ron out to get a new suit and visit Darren’s favorite cigar bar. Ron and Helen meant the world to you both, they took such good care of you at the pink cottage; it was time to give back to them, something special, something memorable and romantic. It was time for them to have not only a couple of nights at Harry’s, no, your’s and Harry’s (that will never feel normal) villa alone, but also time to give them a wedding ceremony for the books.

You let out a breath and squeeze Helen in a tight hug.

“I’ll take ya ta ya rooms an’ let ya settle in an’ then we can all go to a late lunch wi’ ma mum an’ her boyfriend, Darren. They’re anxious ta meet ya.”

“I’m so glad you’re both here,” you tell them squeezing their hands. “We’ve got some surprises planned,” you say, smiling slyly.

“Oh dear lord, we don’ need any surprises, love. We’re just happy ta be here wi’ you two an’ finally see Harry in action,” Helen tells you.

“I know but we wanted to. It’s your 45th anniversary and we want it to be special!” You tell them.

You follow along as Harry gives them a mini tour, enough that they’ll know their way around as Helen ooohhhhs and ahhhhhs.

“These are ya rooms. Hope ya’ll be comfortable here,” Harry says.

“It’s jus’ beautiful,” Helen says.

You can tell she’s overwhelmed.

“I’ll bring ya bags up. Let’s meet in tha living room at 1:30 pm. Sound good?”

They both nod and you and Harry go downstairs to get the bags. You lug them up the stairs and you both stop as you get to the door and you see Ron and Helen hugging. You look at each other and smile and then Harry knocks quietly on the door.

The Chapmans look over and smile. “Thank ya.”

You both beam back at them as Harry pulls the door shut.

He grabs your hand and pulls you to your bedroom. “We’ve got some time…time ta finish wha’ we started in tha kitchen,” he says, nuzzling his nose on yours.

“I’d like that,” you say smiling as he presses his lips to yours.

Up the stairs you make it to your room, “Mmmm, Harry…” you moan as he devours your lips.

His mouth opens against your lips, “Fuck, open, Jezebel, lemme in,” he growls against your mouth as his arms skate around your back and down to your bum. “Mmm, fuckin’ wan’ ya, love.”

“Har…Har-ry…s..s.. slll…slow down, ya just had me….. ugh, god that feels good,” you half moan, half slur throwing you head back panting as he closes the door.

“Yeah, ‘m abou’ ta make ya feel real good,” he says stripping your shirt from you. “Off…off..” he says pushing down your shorts. “Wan’ ‘em off,” he says whispering in your ear. “I wan’ ya naked,” he says pulling back long enough to look at your expression. “Tha’ ok, Jezebel?”

You nod, licking your lips, panting with furrowed brows, “Yeah,” you mutter closing your eyes and rolling you head back while he noses your neck. You rip at his shirt frantically to get it off and then work your hands into his waistband, tearing at the button and zipper. All the while he strips your t-shirt up and you wiggle your body to help it slip over your head. Both of your hands reach for your waistband, pushing your shorts and panties down in one sweep. You kick your shorts to the side while you push at his waistband, his shorts fall on their own and then you hook your thumbs to peal his briefs off, his hard cock standing stiff to the side. You grab it feeling the warm pearls of cum on his tip. “You want me, Harry?”

“In way’s I can’ describe,” he starts just as you fall to your knees.

Your eyes glaze over, your reasonable self, the you that says you should do more to entertain your guests, leaves and the needy, horny, seemingly sex-starved, craving woman takes over, “Wanna suck you off Harry…d’ya wanna cum in my mouth or want me to fuck ya with my mouth and let you finish in my pussy?”

“Jesus Christ, swee’heart, I don’ care… wha’ d’ya want?” he says panting heavily as you fall to the ground.

“I want this cock in my mouth, but I want your cum inside me, please…” you beg kissing the bee he just had inked on his hip. You can’t help the words that fall from you lips, “Honey…”

“Wha’ love, wha’?”

“No honey, my honey, but you have honey too, want your honey to fill me up,” you say kissing his shaft.

“Fuck,” he mutters through a clenched jaw as you feel the blood surge through the viens on his cock.

“Mmmm,” you moan taking him into your mouth. You try to be gentle, but the time for teasing is gone, you want to feel his hardness in your mouth, to know the sensation of his steel erection on your tongue. He’s losing control slowly, steadily…and you’re intent on pushing him there…that point where he leaves all decorum aside and just wants to take, take…from you, his safe place, the place he can let go…a place only you can provide for him.

You suck hard, hollowing your cheek and using your hands to take what you can’t fit in your mouth. Focused on your job you’ve closed your eyes, dedication and commitment on your face, dedicated to pushing him, committed to making this good for him. “Baby, look at me.” He asks causing you to flutter your eyes open. You pop off and jack him with your fists to make sure the he doesn’t lose the sensation. You pout your lips out looking directly in his eyes and kiss the tip of his cock while he watches.

“No!” he says, grabbing your by your arms and pulling you up. “No, don’ make me cum, Jezebel, get up on the bed, an’ do it now.”

You turn to crawl up on the bed, and he grabs your ankle, pulling you back, then he leans over you on the bed to whisper in your ear, “Stop! Fo’ fuck’s sake, stop, right there, stay like tha’, God dammit. Why do ya have ta push me…hmmm? Push me an’ then crawl away, flashin’ this wetness,” he says running his hand through your wet pussy from behind. “Ya know I wan’ this, ya gon’ ‘ave ta be quiet or they’ll hear. Can ya let me fuck ya an’ ya be quiet?”

You nod, panting and swallowing, your mouth watering. You’re beyond ready to fuck your man, ready for him to push in and pound.

You still and widen your legs, as he sits on his knees between your legs, his hands on your bum cheeks. He spreads you wide, pushing your chest down toward the bed. “Still wi’ me?” he asks checking on you. The gesture just turns you on more. He never fucks you like this without checking to make sure you’re with him all the way. This time you’re more than ready to be taken…to the edge.

“Yes!” you whisper-shout over your shoulder, you body trembling with desire.

“Oh, ma love,” he says slowly, his accent much thicker than usual, dripping with arousal, slurred with desire as he scratches his nails down your back.

You bow your back and shiver into his touch like a cat being petted for the first time.

“H, I…I’m wet…” you whisper pushing your hips out trying to show him how ready you are, “Please,” you plead.

He leans down and kisses the dimples above your bum and then down to your slick core. “Mmm… ma Jezebel…” he says placing an open mouth kiss on your swollen wide open lips.

He pulls back with a smack of his lips, licks them and then wipes the back of his hand on across his mouth.

“Got me all sticky, Jezebel.”

“Don’t make me wait any longer, please H, inside me, get inside me, I’m hurting, I’m aching…”

He smirks, “Yeah, where’s it hurt, love, ya wan’ me ta kiss it better or fuck it better?”

“Fuck me…fuck me please!” you whimper on a sob dropping your head down feeling tears fill your eyes.

“I’m here, baby…Shhh, I’m never gonna leave ya,” he says positioning his cock at your drippy hole. “Here, feel tha’, see, ’m here…no’ gonna leave ya emp-ty…” on the last syllable he pushes in and then keeps pushing forward until he bottoms out deep inside you.

“AHHHH…,” you turn your head into the mattress to muffle your own noises, “mmmm,” you moan into the duvet feeling your hot breath penetrate the fabric and spread onto your face, just like the hot warmth you feel in your body as he penetrates you.

“Jesus Christ, baby, ya ok?” he says softly.

“Go, just go, Harry, go!” you murmur against the fabric.

“Shh, hold on, here we go,” he says pulling out and pushing back in. “S’ gonna be fast, babe…”

“Just go…,” you plead ready for the intensity, praying to god Ron and Helen have no clue.

“Mhmph, Mhmph, Mhmph,” he pumps three times, “Jesus, come on, Jezebel, gotta come wi’ me, s’ fast, Mhmph, so fast..”

“There, H, ri….ght there…don’t stop, don’t stop…I can’t stop it, I can’t stop it…”

“S’ok baby, come on, let it go, don’ stop it, let it go…”

Your hands twist and pull up the duvet…pull it to your mouth to stop the scream, but goddamn his cock feels so good.

“Jesus, jesus…” he says through gritted teeth just before he goes stiff, head thrown back, grimace on his beautiful face…only to relax into a look of bliss. He leans forward to kiss your spine just below your rib cage.

“My god, Jezebel,” he says draped over your body, both panting, “Are ya ok?”

You hum..a moan/hum after every exhale.

“Babe, ya ok?”

You giggle slightly, and hum again.

“Aww, love, come on, let’s get ya cleaned up, ya can’t stay in lovespace… god damn I wish ya could…Fuck!” he says shaking his head and kissing your shoulders, “Love it like this, but we gotta show up tanight, come on, baby,” he says turing you over and kissing your cheeks. “Gotta come back, angel…yeah… therrrrre ya are…love ya, God I love ya.”

“I love you too. S’it good?”

“Jesus Fuckin’ Christ love, was incredible….”

You sit quickly, “Helen! Oh my god, they’re here!”

He chuckles, “Umm, think they’re occupied, but, yeah, we need ta tell them abou’ our surprise.”

“My god Harry was I loud?” you say blushing furiously.

“Nah, I think we were quiet enough,” he says chuckling as he moves toward the en-suite. He warms a washcloth under the faucet and comes back to tenderly clean you. The way he places the cloth on his fingers then looks into your eyes while he washes the cum from both of you away. The intimacy of that act, something heart-felt and indescribable…secret, a moment you could never get enough of.

He tosses the washcloth in the laundry hamper, then helps you sit up next to him. “As much as I wan’ ta cuddle ya, we’ve got guests, VIP guests, an’ I know ya wouldn’t miss sharing this surprise fo’ anythin’. Can I get a raincheck fo’ takin care of ya when ya like tha’ next time?”

You nod a bit bashfully.

“Yeah? Promise?” he says lifting your chin to angle his mouth over yours, “Love ya…love fuckin’ ya…love fuckin’ ya into our special place, mmmm”

“You better stop mister, or we’ll never make it outta this room…” you pull back, “ I think you should leave first,” you whisper like a teenager caught in your room with the door shut.

He actually snorts in laughter, “Don’ think we need ta worry abou’ tha’…pretty sure they know we fuck…” He chuckles again. “They know how we fuck too…they made our pink room…”

You smack him, “Harry!”

“Wha’!?”

You take a moment to think about it, “Well…” you say with a indignate chin, “I mean, we’ve never done that with them in the same house, an…an…and, oh my god, how rude are we!”

He finally convinces you to shake it off and you follow a very confident walking Harry out of the room on your tip toes only to find their room door still shut.

He turns to waggle his brows at you as you both work your way down the stairs toward the kitchen. You’ve only a couple of hours left before you have to show at the venue. Looking at your watch you begin to start the usual time countdown.

“You think they will be here in…” you begin just as Ron and Helen make their way down the stairs. You catch Ron grabbing Helen’s bottom and squeezing and her reaction simple a swat and a smile and Ron winking at her.

“We’re all unpacked,” Helen announces as they make their way to the kitchen, Ron with a smirky grin on his face, one that Harry recognizes quickly. “Thank ya fo’ lettin’ us stay a few nights, it’s such a nice celebration fo’ us. We haven’t had an opportunity ta travel, ta visit such beautiful places, this is such a treat. Thank you!”

You smile and your eyes well with tears. You feel so lucky to have found the Chapmans and so thrilled that you could do something nice for them.

Harry drapes his arm on your shoulder and you wrap yours around his waist and lean your head on his chest. He can tell your feeling emotional. “Listen, uh…we’re s’glad ya here an’ agreed ta share ya special day wi’ us.” He looks down at you and smiles before meeting their eyes again. “Ya mean a lot ta us an’ we wanted ta do somethin’ special fo’ ya. We, uh, well…we wan’ ta throw ya a vow renewal ceremony. We know ya didn’t have a big wedding 45 years ago an’ everyone deserves ta have a special day. It’s all set ta happen on Wednesday. We’re leavin’ on Thursday mornin’ an’ ya can stay here as long as ya wan’.”

Ron and Helen are gaping at you, mouths open, looking back and forth from you and each other. Helen finds her voice first, her hands going to get mouth. “Oh ma lord…I don’ know wha’ ta say! We never expected this…a wedding? A real wedding?”

You both nod, smiling.

“Oh Ron!” She exclaims hugging him to her. She pulls away from Ron and rushes to you and throws her arms around you. “Thank you,” she says against your ear. “My sweet, sweet girl.” She pulls back, cupping your face. She moves to hug Harry and squeeze him tight. Ron is still standing stock still, eyes glazed over with tears. He knows how important this is to Helen and he’s overwhelmed with gratitude.

You notice and take three steps and wrap your arms around him. You gasp as he squeezes you so tight you almost can’t breathe and then you hear a strangled cry and he’s sobbing.

Helen pulls away from Harry and comes over to hug you both.

Just then the doorbell rings and Harry quietly says “excuse me” as he goes to open the door.

“Hi baby,” Anne says as she comes in, Darren following her, shaking his hand.

“Hi mum, Darren,” he says. “Everyone’s in the kitchen.”

Anne and Darren follow him to the kitchen and see you surrounded by the Chapmans.

Helen pulls back and wipes her eyes as she notices the new arrivals.

You pull back from Ron and he kisses your cheeks and wipes your eyes.

“Ron, Helen, I’d like ta introduce ma mum, Anne, an’ her boyfriend, Darren.”

Anne steps forward to shake their hands and Darren follows her lead. “I hope we didn’t come at a bad time,” Anne says.

“Uh, no! Not at t’all. We jus’ found out abou’ our lovely vow renewal surprise is all.” Helen says.

“Oh, well yes! We’re all so excited for you both,” Anne says smiling that smile that’s so like Harry’s it’s almost disconcerting.

You watch as Helen looks back and forth between mother and son.

Harry looks down at his watch and rubs his hands together. “Should we get goin’?”

Everyone nods and then you’re all piling into the extra large SUV and heading to the private restaurant you’d booked for dinner.

You twirl your cacio e Pepe on your fork and laugh at a story Anne is telling about Harry. You’re so pleased that everyone is getting along so well. You take a bite of pasta and smile as Harry leans over to kiss your temple.

After a delicious meal, Harry heads to the venue and you go back to the villa for a couple of hours with everyone else. Cal comes to pick you all up at 8:00 pm and you’re walking through the back doors of the venue by 8:20 pm and you lead your little group to the chairs at the side of the stage right in front of the pit.

Helen’s foot is shaking nervously she’s so excited for the show to start. When he finally comes on stage to thunderous applause, her eyes are like saucers.

By the time Golden starts, Ron and Helen are on their feet clapping along with everyone else. It was a great show, and as the last chords of Kiwi die down and Harry runs off the stage, Helen turns to you and hugs you tightly. “He’s amazing. Oh, my sweet girl. He’s amazing! Thank you!”

You hug her back. “You’re welcome.”

On the drive home, Helen couldn’t help having a few fangirling moment’s, the way she bonded with Anne was truly a beautiful thing to watch.

You and Harry are snoodled in the up on the side of the bench seat in the limo and you can tell he’s tired.

“Honey, was a good show? You ok?” you say into the top of his head that’s rested on your shoulder.

“Yeah, just tired.”

“As soon as we get back…” you start to whisper.

“No, home, soon as we get home, ‘s our home here” he mumbles.

You smile with a lump in your throat, “Yeah, as soon as we ge home, you can rest, yeah?”

All the while Helen, Ron and Anne and Darren are talking, getting to know each other, happy to be together. That makes you feel a certain comfort you can’t explain, seeing them happily sharing a moment, while you and Harry rest with each other. To be honest you’re feeling some fleeting moments of wondering what this night would’ve been like if you were with your mum…would she be as happy as Helen…? Would she love Anne as much as you do…? You feel a longing for her…your mum…but you shove it back into your mind, something about her memory is too much for you to visualize. You shake your head…why is your mind going there… it’s old, old news…why does it hurt to think of her?...Shove, shove, shove the memories…today is about comforting Harry, planning for Ron and Helen, celebrating their love… not time for old memories.

Arriving at the villa, Anne and Darren and Ron and Helen make their way to their rooms. As much as you love the plans you have for Ron and Helen, the planning is last minute. It’s only going to be possible because you’re able to pull strings. Thankfully there’ll be a rack of dress options for Helen available at the spa…Anima e Corpo had been recommended so it was shut down for next day to make a home call for Helen’s special day. Torina Suits would be fitting Ron, and the boys had their bachelor plans for the morning. Although it was a small moment, you still had last minute messages from the caterer and florist, not to mention the priest, to respond to.

While Harry was in a hot shower, the ice baths he did at the venue were his sworn cure, but a nice hot shower after was a deep relaxation he loved so much. You brushed your hair out, washed your face and did your nightly routine, you opted for a “treat people with kindness” tank top and a comfy pair of white cotton panties as you crawled in bed. Planning to do a little work for Ron and Helen’s ceremony the next day, you settled with your laptop.

Harry, wrapped in a towel, has answered a few messages when he turns to see you tucked up with the laptop to do some work.

“Nahh, babes, please… let it be, yeah?” he says crawling in bed. “’M so tired, jus’ wanna sleep…”

“Oomph” you puff as he crawls over and lays his head on your tummy.

“Stop…jus’…babe…can we jus’… sleep, please?” he says wrapping his arms around your bum. “Take…take these off, wanna feel ya.” He pulls at the waistband of your panties insistently, pulling them off your body. The entire time he’s smoothing his hands over your skin, “Yeah, jus’ like tha’… wanna feel ya…”

Sooner rather than later, you pushed your laptop to the side and he’s pulls you down to him, one hand cupping the breast where your new ink is, the other on your hip bone, pulling you close to his pelvis.

“Just wanna sleep…baby, we’ll figure out the rest in the morning, yeah?”

You sigh and snuggle back into him and he slides his leg in between yours. “Ok, baby.”

“Jus’ wanna be close ta ya,” he says, lips pressing kisses against your neck.

You turn your head and he kisses your lips softly. “Go to sleep baby. I’m right here,” you tell him, your hand covering his on your skin and close your eyes allowing yourself to drift off. The last thing you remember is a picture of your mum and dad that was in your childhood home.

The beautiful Italian sun shines through the bedroom window. Once again you both forgot to close the darkening curtains. He lays tangled within himself, you behind him the big spoon to his little one. Your mind races with the day's activities. You need to make sure the florist is here in time to set up and the caterer got the meal and cake just right.

You untangle yourself, sit up crossing your legs, and grab your phone from the nightstand. Harry stirs as you flip through your messages, and rolls over moving his hand to rest on the thigh of your crossed legs almost as if he has to touch you even in his sleep.

You smile down at him and then move back to your messages. Everyone is confirmed for the spa and is expected to be at the villa at 10 am. You puff out a sigh of relief. You grab your laptop and pull it onto your lap in an attempt to contact the Royal Palace caterer and florist and the photographer. Oh! And you need to make sure that Lambert has all of the girls’ dresses and the guys have suits. There’s so much to do! You’ve just finished sending off a message when Harry wakes up. He raises the hand on your leg and rubs it down his face.

You look down at the sight before you…his long lean body, tan skin against the crisp white sheets, arm muscles flexing as he rubs his face and back through his hair. Jesus…is this real life? Do I actually get to wake up to this? You think shaking your head.

He pulls his eyes to yours and smiles.

“You sleep good baby?” You ask him, your hand running through his curls.

“Yeah. Had ma Jezebel wi’ me, s’ yeah,” he says in his raspy morning voice.

“Wha’re ya doin, love?”

“Oh honey, I need to contact the Royal Palace caterer, and the florist...got so much to do..." you tell him softly.

“Can’ we get someone ta do tha’?"

“No because we decided to do this ourselves, remember? And you gave Luis the week off, remember?”

He sighs.

“Besides, H, I really want us to do this for them. They mean a lot to me.”

He pulls up to his elbows, hands rubbing down his face. “Look s’beautiful sittin’ there.”

"No, sir, don't start lookin' a me like that..."

“Like wha’? Lemma see wha’ ya workin' on," he says pulling the laptop towards him, only to roll over with it and set it on the bedside table.

“Harry, honestly! I have to do..." you break into giggles as he tickles your side. "Stop! Stop!!" you say giggling.

He goes still.

“What?" You ask, “you ok?"

“Yeah, baby, ‘m perfect, ya perfect...s’proud of ya...an’ lemme say, those glasses...bookworm Jezebel in ma bed,” he says and stops to place kisses on your thigh, "smell s’good..."

Smiling, you reach to take your glasses off.

“No, Jezebel, leave 'em..." he says pushing up onto his elbows fingering the bottom of the tank top that’s ridden up to your waist leaving you bare from the waist down. His large hands push your tank up over your tummy and up past your breasts. He moves in front of you and slowly pulls the tank top off, pushing you onto your back. His hands slide to your knees and he pushes your legs up but still keeping them crisscrossed and licks a stripe up your slit causing you to cry out. He meets your eyes through the little space through your legs. “Gotta be quiet , baby. Wanna eat ma honey bu’ we have company,” he says, smirking as he bends his head to you again, maintaining eye contact. He pulls back. “Baby show me ma bee...s'it feeling better...or s'it still a little sore? Show me."

You pull your breast up and run your fingers over your ink. “No, it feels good.”

“Still can’ believe ya did tha’ fo’ me.”

You blush. “I’m yours, baby.”

He groans. “Gonna eat ma honey now,” he says as he moves his hands to your crossed legs and he pushes them up and licks a hard stripe up your slit.

Your head falls back and you bite the back of your hand to stifle your noises.

“Eyes on me, Jezebel. Wan’ ya ta watch.”

You pull your eyes back to his, looking through your legs to see his face.

He suctions his mouth to your clit, tongue fluttering against your nerves and you’re already panting. When he moves his other hand to your dripping entrance and slides his middle and ring finger in, curling them to your hit your spot, your back arches and you whisper shout out his name.

He pops off. “Cum fo’ me. Wan’ ma honey, Jezebel.”

You feel another gush of wetness at his words.

He suctions back onto your clit, fingers rhythmically moving against your spot.

You can feel your orgasm coiling in your belly and you watch as he looks up at you from under his lashes. You can see the lust and desire in his eyes.

He moves his fingers against your spot a little harder and that’s what pushes you over.

“I…ahhhh…mmm…cumming!” Your back arches as you cum for him, your walls pulsing hard around his fingers, your hands fisting the sheets.

“Tha’s my girl…wan’ ya so much,” he mutters scrambling up to place both knees on either side close to your bum. He slides his hand down your crossed leg to hold your ankle. “Ya ok like this?” he asks thumb rubbing across the top of your foot.

You look down at your crisscrossed legs bent forward on your tummy, the back of your thighs and legs tucked against his lower abdomen. You can feel his cock nestled against the lips of your wet cunt. You look up at him, nod and pant out, “Yeah, it’s good, can ya get inside like this?”

He smirks a smile with a deep dimple. “Oh yeah, love… can take ya jus’ fine this way,” he says looking down to where his cock rests. His eyes find yours, “Ready?”

You smile and pull off your readers tossing them to the side, “Please….”

He pulls back slightly lining up his cock, meeting your eyes, “Love ya s’much,” then leans forward slowly thrusting in pushing your crossed and folded legs forward as he braces one hand on the bed and the other against the headboard.

The way his weight is resting on you creates an amazing angle and puts him deep, deep inside you. You push your head back into the pillow, eyes squeezed tightly as a sharp inhale and exhale leaves your body.

“Fuckin’ love tha’….never gets old…tha’ first push in…you’re special purr…s’all fo’ me, innit?”

You bite the back of your hand and nod vigorously unable to speak a word at the moment.

“’M so deep, s’it feel ok, Jezebel?”

“Oh my god, yes, H.” you let out a soft, yet high-pitched squeal. “Feels amazing,” you groan out cupping your breasts and brushing your thumbs over your hard nipples.

“Mmmm, yeah… nipples are so hard, those are my tits, baby, pinch ‘em like I do.” He leans down to place a kiss to your lips, his arm stretched as it’s perched on the velvet headboard for leverage. Against your lips, “pinch ‘em hard, pretend its my teeth while I fuck ya.” He pulls out just slightly and pushes in deep and swivels his hips like he’s tryna grind his fuck into you. He does it again and again. His tummy pressing into your folded legs between you. This isn’t a pounding style fuck, more like a deep, grinding fuck you can feel deep in your soul. His pelvic bone and pubic hair are stimulating your clit and the ridges of his cock are sliding against your g-spot. His spot. God, you love that he claimed the most intimate parts of your body for himself. He might as well, god knows he owns you body.

You cry out against his lips, “Shh, Jezebel, gotta be quiet, we have a house fullof guests.”

“I know, I know,” you pant out, “Tryna be…it’s just…it’s just….”

“S’good like this, hmm? Can feel ya clampin’ down on me…oh baby, please tell me ya gon’ cum like this…fuck!” His balls are drawing up…he’s not gonna be able to hold on much longer. “Touch yourself, show me….”

Maintaining eye contact, you reach down through the opening between your crossed legs and first, place your palm on his pelvis. Your palm feels the taunt area just above his cock, so much blood rushed to the area it’s hard and even harder as you feel the base of his cock against the side of your thumb. He pulls out slightly between your positioned thumb and fingers. “So hard, Harry…” you whisper.

He looks down to where your hand is, “Yeah, m’hard an’ ya so wet,” he says pushing in deep catching your fingers as he swivels and grinds.

You raise your head to look down, “Got me spread wide open…Ah-ha-hahh! Right there! Yes! Right there!”

“Darlin’…Shhh! Aww Fuck It!” he says in a I-give-up tone. “I can’t…I can’t hold on…gonna cum…AHH! With me…cum with me!

“Har-ry…” you whisper shout against the back of your hand as the orgasm overtakes your body. You’re so wound up and his hand on your ankle is a now a grip as your toes curl with the contractions that come in waves. You’ve bit your bottom lip so hard you think you might draw blood. Looking at his face contorted in such absolute pleasure makes the orgasm just go on longer.

His hair is flopped down into his eye, he’s stiff and shaking with your contractions. “OH. MY. GOD. Baby…” he’s trying to catch his breath. “Jesus, Jezebel…” he murmurs falling forward curled over your crossed legs.

You groan slightly at his weight. “Hang on angel,” he says finding the strength to pull back just a little. His hand is still pushed against the headboard and you can’t help but admire the flex of his bicep and the beauty of his underarm, you lean up and kiss his tricep. He pulls back and sits on his knees, holding your legs up on your tummy. He looks up at you as he slowly pulls out. “Good?”

You nod with a soft smile.

“Show me it…push it out.”

You put your hand down to touch the side of his thigh and whisper, “Jesus H, you’re so filthy.” He nods as you push your mixed cum from your body feeling it drip down.

He catches it with is finger and pushes it back inside you, only to have small dribbles leak out. He’s in a trance like state looking at it and unconsciously runs a finger tip up from your bottom across your tight rosette to your wet pussy. The sensation causes startles you, causing you to flex. Harry rolls his eyes up to you and he cocks his head to one side. “Good…or…no?”

“Unexpected…” you whisper, “But…better than I expected…”

“Fuckin’ love seein’ our cum in ya…,” he says unfolding your legs and settling between them, down on his elbows, his thumbs rubbing your jaw.

He holds your stare, searching your eyes and opens his mouth, then closes it again, letting out an exhale.

“What, honey?” you ask sensing he’s got something on his mind.

“Have you ever…down there…,” he says pulling his head back, taking a deep breath.

“No… I mean, this guy I went out with in year two of Uni, tried slipping down there a couple of times, like I wouldn’t notice or something,” you say rolling your eyes.

“Fuckin’ bastard, motherfucker…!” He says frustratedly and buries his head in your neck. “God! Dammit!” he huffs out a breath.

“Was it tha’ fucker, ya brought ta Mum’s on Boxing Day…swear ta Christ…”

You run your hand down his back and chuckle, “It’s fine, Harry, he didn’t…hey, look at me,” you demand pushing his head up with your shoulder. “I mean, have you?”

He shakes his head, “No…no’ at all.”

“Does that interest you?” you ask in return.

“I mean, wha’ d’ya think abou’ it?”

“I don’t think I wanna be penetrated with your monster down there, but I’m curious about the feeling…it’s more sensitive than I thought it would be.” He closes his eyes, “Harry, talk to me, what’s on your mind?”

“When we were in Amsterdam an’ we met back wi’ you and Sarah at tha’ shop, they had this little chrome…ya know, plug… with a heart shaped base an’,” he buries his head back into your neck, but you push him back to meet your eyes, “jus’ wondered wha’ it would feel like fo’ us ta fuck…wi’ it there.”

“I mean…I’m not opposed to it, you’ve always been gentle with me, H… so tender and I trust you with my body…trust you with our play…with our sex. I love you, I love what we do in bed.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, don’t think I wanna fuck that way, I mean I dunno, but I…” you look to the side shyly.

He turns his head at an awkward angle so he can meet your eyes, “No, Jezebel, don’ go shy on me, not abou’ this, yeah?”

“I…I…I can’t say I’m not I’m curious about it, do you think that makes me…”

“Doesn’t make ya anythin’, darlin’. ‘Cept mine… makes ya mine, mine ta share these thin’s wi’, yeah? An’ we can go slow, promise I’ll be gentle…”

You stare hard into his eyes, “I don’t worry about you hurting me, OK…,” you lean up to capture his lips, “I love what we do and I love tha’ it’s always special and it’s ours…s’ours and no one elses.”

“I’m so in love wi’ ya, know tha’?”

“I know, honey. Wanna stay in bed with you all day right now… soo wanna make love all day…” you whisper as he kisses your neck and shoulder, “But we gotta finish planning this ceremony.”

He jerks his head back. “Yeah, we have a wedding ceremony to plan…an’ god knows I wanna get better at tha’,” he deadpans staring deep.

You return his stare slightly perplexed, but brushing off his innuendo as something you’re reading into, “Yeah, we should finish up.”

He cleans you up and you task him with contacting Lambert and the photographer while you deal with the hotel caterer and florist. After forty-five minutes of back and forth and a near disaster with the cake, everything is confirmed for 6:00 pm and you both let out a relieved puff of air.

“Tha’ was fuckin’ stressful,” he says as he tosses his phone to the end of the bed.

You nod. “An’ this was a small do…I can’t even imagine wha’ it’s like planning a big do!”

He bites his lip. “Would ya wanna do it or would ya get a event planner?”

You’re distracted on the laptop because you’re responding to a follow up question from the caterer. “I’d like to be involved but not down in the weeds. It’s too much!”

He nods thoughtfully. “Jus’ know tha’ when it’s our turn ta plan a wedding, I’ll help ya in whatever way ya need me ta.”

You’re still responding to the caterer and aren’t sure you heard that right. “Wait…what? What wedding?”

He laughs his breathy little laugh and grabs your phone so you’re not distracted. “Ours. When we do this, I’ll help ya as much as ya wan’ me ta. I’ll hire as many people as we need. I’ll,” he gulps, “I’ll do whatever I can ta make sure ya not stressed an’ tha’ we have everythin’ we wan’.”

Tears well in your eyes. “Really?”

He moves so he’s in front of you and pulls you in his arms. “Really.”

“I love you.”

He kisses your ear. “Love ya too. We should get ready. Everyone’ll be here in a bit,” he says, getting up and pulling you with him.

“Ok,” you say as a tear slides down your face.

You put comfy clothes on and skip hair and makeup since you’re getting that done and head downstairs to the kitchen and put on the kettle and the coffee. You’ve just put the toast in the toaster when Ron and Helen step in the room with Harry right behind them.

“Guess who I found in the hallway?” Harry says giggling and pointing to the Chapmans.

“Hmmmm…imagine that,” you say giggling. “Who wants tea?”

“I’d like tea. Ron would prefer coffee,” Helen says.

“Coming right up. Toast ok?” You ask them and they all nod.

“I’m so sorry…good morning you two!” You say moving around the counter to kiss them both.

They both chuckle and kiss your cheeks.

“Sit down and I’ll bring everything over,” you tell them.

Harry just smiles as he moves to the counter and takes the coffee pot and creamer from your hands and bringing it to the table. You place four mugs on the table and he grabs two of them while you put tea bags in the other two and pour the boiling water.

He slips behind you and grabs the toast and plates bringing them to the table.

You smile. “Thank you,” you tell him as he grabs the butter dish and you move to the table with the tea.

You place your hands together at the table, and lean forward, excited to talk to them about the day’s activities. “So, I realize it’s just your first day here, but we have a kinda busy schedule planned in order to get ready for your renewal ceremony tonight. Luckily, we have the courtyard of the Royal Palace reserved and the staff there have been amazing to get everything taken care of,” you smile and lean in further with excitement, “They have a Michelin star chef who has prepared a menu with a beef, chicken and fish option and a homemade pasta with different sauces to choose from. The pastry chef is making you a beautiful cake, and they have a florist they do business with who will get the tables and trees dressed with flowers and ivy and little twinkle lights.” You glance over to Harry who is looking at you with sweetest smile, dimple on full display. You reach up and rub your chin thinking maybe you have toast crumbs or butter or something there. “What?” you ask with a smile.

He slips his hand onto your thigh and rubs slightly, “Nothing…ya jus’ cute s’all.”

You look up and Ron is smirking as he slides his arm across the back of Helen’s chair. Helen looks over at him and smiles. “I can’t believe you two are doing this for us, it’s so special,” she says not taking her eyes off her lover of forty-five years. “Oh, Ronnie, an Italian wedding…,” she says a little overwhelmed.

Ron just rubs his hand across her neck, “I know, baby, it’s pretty amazing.”

“The sun should be going down about the time you say, ‘I do’, so it we have candles planned to keep the light and then we can all sit down for a nice meal together and then some dancing,” you clap your hands, “I love a great party! And I cannot imagine celebrating two more deserving people. We love you both so much,” you say glassy eyed. “Ok no crying yet,” you say shaking your head. “We, Miss Helen, have a spa visit to get to and, you, Mr. Ron, need to get a suit.”

“As long as Harry doesn’t pick it out, I’m fine with getting a suit.” Ron deadpans.

You all look at each other and burst into laughter.

In a flurry of people and cars, you’re finally on your way to the spa with Harry and the men folk heading to get a suit and a stop at the cigar bar.

You’ve been massaged, wrapped in clay, had a facial, nails and toes done and a light lunch has been served and eaten. After everyone’s through you tell Helen, “I have one final surprise for you before we meet up with the boys.”

Helen’s eyes well up with tears. “You’ve done s’much already, my sweet girl. I don’ know how much else there is ta do!”

You smile and lean over to hug her. “You can’t get married without a wedding dress,” you say as Ny wheels in a rack of gowns.

Helen’s hands fly to her mouth and she looks at you, eyes wide in shock.

You grab her hand. “C’mon, let’s pick your wedding dress!”

She follows you to the rack and you can tell she’s still gobsmacked.

You pull out each gown and show it to her.

Her hands are shaking as she fingers the material of each gown.

You get to the end of the selections, “what do you think?”

“I…uh…they’re all s’beautiful, I don’ know,” Helen says, overwhelmed.

You smile softly. “I know this is a lot, but just try and focus and pick the one you like best and we’ll try it on.”

“Ok,” she says squeezing your hand. She goes back through the dresses and stops in the middle of the rack, pulling out a beautiful antique white all lace dress with sheer sleeves and a beautiful train. The skirt flares at the bottom in a very subtle mermaid shape ad there’s a gorgeous jeweled belt that cinches the waist.

“It’s beautiful, Helen. Let’s go over here and we’ll try it on.”

The spa set up a changing room with a bridal pedestal and a three way mirror for you.

Helen gets undressed and you help her into the dress and zip it up.

“Close your eyes,” you tell her. You grab the veil from the hook on the wall, gently tuck the veil on the back of her head, and wave frantically in the doorway for all of the girls to come and see. You smile. “Open your eyes.”

You watch as she opens her eyes and you both look at her reflection.

Her hands fly to her mouth again and tears roll down her cheeks.

Anne grabs a tissue and gives it to you and you hand it to Helen quickly.

She wipes her eyes and looks from the mirror back to you.

“You look so beautiful. A perfect bride.” All the girls nod behind you.

“Wha’ did I ever do ta deserve ya?” Helen says, kissing both of your cheeks. “Thank you, my sweet girl. Never though’ I’d have a daughter at this stage of my life bu’ here ya are.”

You hug her and pull back and grab her and Anne’s hands squeezing them tightly. “I couldn’t ask for two better surrogate mothers.”

“This is the dress. It’s more than I ever could’ve hoped fo’,” Helen says. She kisses your cheeks again. “Someday you’ll tell me abou’ your parents, won’ ya?”

Tears stream down your face. “I will. One day. Promise.”

#permanent love part 1 #original content #harry smut #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #friends to lovers

59 notes · View notes

bokubear · 3 years ago

Text

when their s/o is/comes home drunk | hq boys

ft. ushijima wakatoshi, tendou satori, oikawa torū, iwaizumi hajime, atsumu miya, osamu miya, suna rintarou

warnings; alcohol usage, a drunk s/o, mention on vomiting, suggestive on atsumu’s part

ushijima → he was actually there while it went down. the moment you mentioned going out to a bar with tendou, ushijima knew what was to happen. most times you’d go to a bar with tendou you’d come home extremely drunk and emotional. it happened again, and ushijima was the solider who carried you home on his back rubbing patterns in your thighs to soothe you.

—

tendou → he had been sitting at home with you. you had been drabbling about how stressful work was these days and just so happened to find a few bottles in the fridge. forgetting what drink you were carrying, you seemed to be a bit tipsy by your 3rd bottle. a light-weight. tendou grasped the bottle from your hand while you objected. tendou may be teasing but he knew the effects of alcohol. a few minutes later and he was feeding you small sips of water.

—

oikawa → the aoba johsai team was hosting a ‘celebration’ which mostly just meant a large collaboration of aoba johsai alumni and friends meeting up to drink and catch up after years of bustling. — “man torū! i think y/n’s onta’ ya!” someone whistled from the crowd, you had crawled on top of him, face flushed and eyes clouded. uttering soft “torū.. hold me..” he had caught your words, planning to tease you but the words made his heart melt. “okay baby i’ve got you.. — we’re gonna head back home!”

—

iwaizumi → he watched you down your 5th glass, eyebrows lifting. “hey babe i think you’ve had a few.” he spoke, continuing to keep you on gaze. you sat beside him, oikawa and sitting in front chatting away. “hunh haji..?” sighing softly, your eyes hardly open. the sleepy drunk huh. his mind mused. he wiped the line of drool slipping down the soft skin of your lips. “no more for you, lean on me.” he offered, grasping your head gently to place on his shoulder. not to long later you were out. snoring peacefully. oikawa and him simply marveled.

—

atsumu → you insisted you were fine hanging out with some girlfriends at a club. cute dress flaunting in front of his face. the miya was living for this confident you. when you opened the door he expected you to ask for a foot massage, instead, you clambered on top of him. “atsumu i want you please—- come with me darling~” you whined, flicking a finger towards yourself as if saying: ‘come here’. atsumu could tell you were tipsy, but this was a tricky situation. he gave in.

—

osamu → handed you a can of draft beer, a good match with the dish he had prepared. “tell me how it is.” he smiled cheerily, excited to see your reaction to his dish. what he didn’t expect was after only a 2 or so bottles your eyes watered, tears leaking from each eye at rapid pace. “cupcake?! why’re ‘ya cryin?!” he shrieked, rising from his chair quickly. “t-this food is sooo.. good..” you sniffled hard. osamu then noticed the bottles, sighing. “can’t take much? okay sweetie, im glad ‘ya like it but let’s not cry about it.” he laughed softly, wiping your tears with a tissue.

—

suna → had met up with inarizaki and with no surprise the miya twins had ordered up the alcohol menu to the full extent, joking about each other being light-weights. you had ignored this but taken it to be a competition to beat atsumu at a drinking contest. the night ended with you vomiting your stomach out in the bathroom stall. suna holding your hair with a grimace and a ‘i told you so.’

-mack

plagiarism, repost, and editing is prohibited

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years ago

Text

Floating Through Space - Harry Styles

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

pairing: Harry x Famous!Reader

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

word count: 25.7k

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t wear men’s pants.”

“You’d look better in a dress.”

“Why do you look like a guy?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oi, can I ask for one?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not even once,” you shake your head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

They stay silent and you know you were right.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you home already?”

“Yes, just arrived.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“See?” she smiles warmly.

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

“Harry Styles.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You and Harry?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you too.”

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

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

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

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

“Well, thank you. Back at you.”

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

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

“What are your concerns exactly?” Jeff questions.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, everything went fine.”

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

However, Harry can see right through you.

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You guys still talk?”

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

“You miss being with the band?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing pissed you off lately?”

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

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

“It’s… a long story.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re right,” you nod smiling.

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know how to do that.”

“You don’t know how not to stress?”

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

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

“Cigarettes? I put it down in 2015.”

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

“What? Now?” you ask with wide eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you gonna smoke?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did he ever stop?”

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you want to go for a swim?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” you chuckle.

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

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

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

“Yeah? You like it?” he smirks.

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

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

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

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

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

“Which one?”

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

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

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

“Why not?”

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

“What was the name of the song?”

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

“Can I ask why you left your parents?”

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

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

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

“No,” you shake your head.

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

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

“Woah, that sounds really tough.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Damn right,” he smirks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That fucking asshole dragged my name again!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What did he do this time?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shoot it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re a fan?”

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

“You need to perform it for me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You alright?” Harry softly asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” you admit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kind of.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m meeting with Sarah and Mitch for dinner tonight, thought you’d like to join us.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude on your time with your friends, I feel like you’ve been spending all your time with me.”

“But I like spending time with you,” he chuckles softly, a blush making its way to your cheeks at his words.

“Are you sure you want me there? What about Sarah and Mitch? I crashed your last meeting with them as well.”

“You didn’t crash anything, Y/N. And I’m positive I want you there, I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t. And just so you know, Sarah asked if you’d be joining us, so I assume they wouldn’t mind it either.”

“Oh, well, okay then. Send me the time and place.”

“Wonderful!” he beams, his enthusiasm making your chest warm.

By the time you arrive home he has already texted you the details and you have just one hour to spare before you have to head out. You opt for a quick shower and an outfit change, switching up your ripped mom jeans and simple t-shirt to one of your favorite jumpsuits. It’s a little baggy, but the waist is cinched in with an inbuilt corset, giving the whole fit a very interesting twist.

Arriving at the restaurant Harry has texted you the address of, the waiter escorts you to the terrace at the back that’s a lot more secluded and you feel yourself relaxing that you probably won’t get photographed. Harry is the only one who is already at the table, sitting with his eyes fixed on his phone, but he immediately puts it aside when he sees you approaching, a wide smile stretching across his face.

“Hey! You look amazing!” he greets you pulling you into a quick hug.

“Thank you,” you smile shyly. He is wearing a pair of brown slacks, a simple white shirt tucked into it, a knitted cardigan thrown on, a typical Harry outfit. “And thanks for the invite,” you add as you take the seat next to him, assuming Sarah and Mitch would like to sit next to each other.

“Don’t even mention it. We’re friends, it’s really nothing. I’m glad you could make it.”

The way he called you friends is giving you mixed feelings. Part of you is happily jumping up and down at the fact that he considers you as a friend, given how you don’t have many of those. It’s been hard opening up to anyone since you’ve made a name for yourself, you’ve ran into occasions a lot when people wanted more than just your friendship from you and it made you rather closed off when it comes to making friends.

On the other hand, you can’t help but feel a little disappointed. Is that all you are? Just friends? More importantly, is that all you want to be, or more?

Sarah and Mitch arrive soon after, joining you at the table and the waiter takes the orders before leaving the four of you alone. It seems like they genuinely like it that you’ve joined, so you can enjoy the evening a little more relieved.

Sipping on some amazing wine, you eat and talk and you feel like you’ve known these people your whole life. You especially like Sarah, she is so open-minded and funny and you think they make a great couple with Mitch who is obviously more closed off, but it’s obvious how much he worships his girlfriend.

Sometime in the evening, when you’ve already had two glasses of Chardonnay and you’re feeling a lot more relaxed and comfortable, you move closer to Harry without even noticing, leaning against him gently and his hand rests on your knee, giving it a soft squeeze under the table, making you want to move even closer to him to feel more of his touch, to get more of him.

Neither Sarah, nor Mitch questions the two of you being a little cozier and you’re thankful for the safe and stressfree environment they are providing, not making you overthink what you do, just letting you enjoy the moment.

At the end of the evening, you can’t shake the thought that you don’t want to say goodbye to Harry just yet. He pays for everyone’s dinner, leaving a generous tip for the waiter and you stay back at the table while Sarah runs out to the restroom and Mitch takes a quick call from his father, leaving you alone with Harry. His hand is still resting on your leg, a little farther up, but still in a very safe zone in the middle of your thigh.

Turning to face him your eyes meet his, his green irises glistening in the soft lighting and he looks so beautiful, you just want to kiss him again.

“Do you have plans after this?” you find yourself asking.

“Not that I know of.”

“Do you want to come over to my place?”

“That sounds like a nice plan,” he smiles at you warmly and you just know that if you weren’t out in the public, he would have leant in for a kiss and you wouldn’t have stopped him.

When Sarah and Mitch return all four of you head out and they don’t question when you follow Harry to his car. They say goodbye and Sarah makes you promise to join them some other time too and you happily say yes to the invitation.

Not much is being said on the way back to your place, he plays some music quietly as you navigate him through the streets.

“Welcome to mi casa,” you smile as you key the two of you into your apartment you’ve been living in for the past few years.

It’s nothing luxurious, just a tad bit bigger than what one person would need as a home. You would have been fine living in your previous home you lived in before you’ve gained fame, but you needed a much bigger closet so you were forced to move. It’s a two bedroom apartment with one big bathroom, an open concept kitchen and a spacious living room. And of course, a closet as big as your bedroom. It’s the perfect size and you haven’t even thought about buying a bigger place just because you can, it would be a waste of money and space. The interior is very much vintage with all your mismatched furniture and colorful walls, but you think it’s quite cozy and just the ideal space for you.

“Would you like something to drink?” you ask, walking into the kitchen to get yourself some water.

“Some water would be great, thank you.”

Filling up two glasses you hand him one as you lean against the counter, silently eyeing each other. It should be clear to him that you had intentions with asking him to come over, especially after being your cozy with each other during dinner, but you’re a little lost in what you should or even want to do. You just know you want him close.

He drinks up his water, his eyes meeting your gaze as a small smirk tugs on his cherry lips.

“You want to kiss me,” he states, using the exact same words you used the night when you kissed for the first time.

“I do,” you nod, feeling a little breathless.

“Then do it,” he simply answers, making you smile.

“Cool and respectful, as always,” you grin at him as he moves closer, stopping just a few inches away from you, your feet almost touching. Reaching up his fingers gently caress the side of your face and you feel yourself already melting under his touch.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, a shiver running down your spine at his words. You close your eyes for a moment, giving yourself the chance to pull out of it, but you realize you don’t want that, not even the tiniest bit. Opening your eyes they meet with his gaze before you move closer, closing the distance between you and him, lips meeting in a warm and chaste kiss.

Though it grows a little hungrier, you can tell he is still holding back a little, giving you the chance to stop whenever you want to, but you don’t intend to. Pushing yourself closer to him, your arms curl around his neck as his hands grip your waist, your tongue meeting his as you deepen the kiss and melt into his embrace.

Pulling back you grab his hand and head to the bedroom, going back to kissing him the moment you reach it. You easily slide his cardigan off his broad shoulders, pulling his t-shirt out of his pants before taking it completely off, throwing it somewhere to the side. You smirk against his lips, hands wandering down his naked chest and you can’t push down a moan as you feel the warmth of his chest muscles under your touch.

When you feel him try to blindly figure out how to get you out of your jumpsuit with not much luck and this clears your head for a moment to realize what is about to happen. Pulling back your gaze meets his and he stares back at you with caution, ready to stop whenever you tell him to, but that’s not what made you pull back.

“Harry, I…” “We don’t have to do anything,” he softly tells you, his fingers dancing down the side of your face until they reach your chin and he pulls you in for a delicate and slow kiss.

“I want to,” you whisper. “It��s just that… I want you to know that I’ve never… I’ve never been with a man before.”

Searching in his eyes you look for any sign of what’s going on in his head wishing you could just simply read his thoughts.

“You’ve never been with a man?” he asks, seemingly not as surprised as you expected him to be. You nod, licking your lips, waiting for any kind of reaction, a part of you expecting to be upset, though you know he has no right to be mad at you for any of it. “Do you want me to be the first man?” he then asks, with a loving and warm smile as his hand on your hip pulls you against him playfully.

“Yes.”

“Then help me get you out of this jumpsuit, because I can’t figure it out for my life,” he chuckles making you laugh too.

You show him where the corset opens and then get you out of it with joined forces, finally leaving you standing in just your underwear. Harry’s gaze runs down your body, a look of hunger and passion shining through his green irises as he pulls you close again, kissing you with a lot more vigor this time.

Soon enough, his slacks slip to the floor and you climb to your bed, Harry following closely, climbing on top of you before rejoining your lips. Your knees open up wide for him, allowing him to sink his hips between your thighs, his crotch meeting your heated center, a moan slipping out your lips when you feel his erection rubbing against you through the material of your underwear. He kisses his way down your jawline and neck, gently sucking on the soft skin, peppering kisses along your collarbones before he reaches your chest. He easily unclasps your bra and slips the straps down your arms before getting rid of the barrier that’s been keeping him away from your naked chest.

“Fuck, Y/N, you are so damn beautiful,” he breathes out shakily, before his lips wrap around your right nipple, his hand cupping your other breast. You keep whining and whimpering as you feel his tongue swirl around your nipple before his mouth moves over to the other breast, giving it just the same amount of attention.

He kisses down your stomach, glancing up at you as he hooks his fingers into the elastic of your panties silently asking for your permission to go further, still so respectfully looking out for you. As an answer, you lift your hips up so he can easily slide the material down your legs and throw it to the side.

“Oh fuck!” you moan when his tongue and lips press against your bud, playing with it oh so perfectly, making you shudder. If you didn’t think Harry was perfect, his tongue work is now surely making a statement on that.

With every lick, kiss and suck he pushes you closer to your release that’s nearing in a fast pace like never before. Reaching down you lace your fingers through his chocolate curls, tugging on the lightly, making him moan against your core. You’re not sure how long you’ll last, but you want to cum with him inside you, so you pull him up, lips meeting again as you still taste your own juice on him. It’s heavenly.

Without breaking the kiss you reach down and into his underwear, palming his fully hard cock, earning a satisfied growl when you wrap your hand around him. The feeling is quite unknown, you’ve only once had to face a penis before, it happened back in high school when you were still figuring out what sexuality meant to you. Gave a wobbly and quite short handjob to a guy from the grade above you, never even talked to him again. The experience left a major effect on you, never even got close to being intimate with a man, but being with Harry now is putting everything into a whole new light.

“Do you have a condom?” he mumbles against your lips, clearly just as excited to carry on as you are.

“Yeah,” you nod and let go of him, rolling to the edge of the bed so you can dig into the drawer of your nightstand, successfully finding the little silver packet. Tearing it open you hand it over to Harry and get back to your previous position as you watch him kneeling up, rolling the condom on carefully. Your lips part when your eyes fall on his cock, seeing now how big he really is. Harry catches your eyes and leaning down he kisses you softly.

“Tell me if it hurts and I’ll stop, okay?” he kindly tells you, but you smile at him coyly.

“You might be the first man I’m with, but your dick won’t be the first thing to be inside me,” you answer with a smug smirk and it brings an amused look to his face.

“You are so fucking hot,” he murmurs, pressing his lips against yours in a hard kiss as he settles himself back between your legs.

Though you really tried to sound confident the other moment, you still feel a little nervous about it and Harry senses it right away. Holding himself up on one arm he cups your face in his other, kissing you slowly, taking his time with his lips, as if he is trying to make you forget about everything else but his lips.

“Are you still sure about this?” he softly asks, looking for any sign of hesitation in your eyes, but there’s none.

“Yeah, I want this. I want you,” you nod and reaching down between your bodies, you take him in your hands again, positioning him to your center.

Harry captures your lips in another passionate kiss as he pushes into you slowly, filling you up inch by inch. You gasp at the sensation, feeling a little tight around him, but not in an uncomfortable way.

“You alright?” he asks once he is almost fully in.

“Yeah, go ahead,” you breathe out with a small nod. He pecks your lips and slowly pushes all the way in before he starts to move out and then slide in again, picking up a not too fast but still firm pace with his movements.

You gradually get used to the feeling of him sliding in and out of you, it’s surely a whole different experience than using a dildo or any kind of toy you are used to. The thought that it belongs to him is bringing you a sense of intimacy you haven’t felt in a long time.

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you dig your fingers into his hot skin that’s coated with a thin layer of sweat as he keeps moving, slowly picking up his pace as you both get closer to the endgame.

“Harry, faster, please!” you plead, legs coming to wrap around his waist so he can thrust in deeper, making you go completely nuts from the way your orgasm is already forming in the pit of your tummy.

He obeys without a second thought, slamming into you faster and harder, making you continuously moan his name, the room is filled with moans and panting, the slapping noise of his hips meeting yours.

Harry buries his face into the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking on the soft skin, definitely leaving a mark, but you couldn’t care less. You just grab a handful of his hair, shutting your eyes closed as you feel yourself nearing the end.

“Harry, I’m gonna cum,” you pant, barely hanging on.

Instead of stretching it out and trying to play with you, Harry clearly wants you to combust. Reaching down between your bodies his index and middle fingers find your clit and he starts circling on it, adding that little extra you needed to fall over the edge.

Moaning and whimpering under his massive body, your orgasm washes over you in waves, bringing you such an intense satisfaction you’ve never felt before. He keeps up his thrusting and just a few moments later his movements fall out of his rhythm and mumbling your name over and over again, he gasps as he rides his high while you’re still trying to catch your breath following your own.

With a heaving chest Harry rolls off of you, gets rid of the condom and throws it to the small bin you keep next to your night stand and then lies flat beside you as you both just silently stare up at the ceiling, very much in the best kind of after sex haze.

“How are you feeling?” he then asks, rolling to his side, his hand coming to rest on your bare stomach. Turning your head to the side you crack a smile at him.

“I feel like I’ve just been properly fucked,” you bluntly answer, making him laugh wholeheartedly. Rolling to your side his arm falls to your waist as you scoot closer, your face only a few inches from his. He is so pretty up close, his features never fail to amuse you, hard to believe he is a real human, lying right next to you.

He closes his eyes a little, letting his head sink into the pillow as his fingers delicately dance up and down your side and back. You feel like you owe him to say something, dropping a major detail about yourself in a heated moment.

“I had two girlfriends,” you speak up, his eyes fluttering open to your words. “The first one was when I was eighteen, we dated for almost a year, then I briefly dated a guy, but it was barely just a month. And I had my second girlfriend when I was twenty. We were together for two years.”

“Are you still friends with them?”

“I still talk to the second one. Her name is Mila. We broke up because she moved to Spain for a job for a year and we didn’t want to do long-distance. Then we just… grew apart, but we still talk sometimes. She lives in Atlanta now, she has a girlfriend and she told me that she is planning to propose soon.”

A soft smile tugs on your lips as you talk about her. She was an important person in your life in a time that was truly challenging. Mila supported your dreams, she went to a lot of your concerts and she was the first one you called when you got your record deal even though you weren’t together anymore. She has seen you go from performing in dodgy bars to rocking the stage of arenas.

“Congrats to her,” Harry smiles through tired eyes. Reaching up he tucks your hair behind your ear before leaning closer he envelopes your lips in a soft kiss.

“We really shouldn’t have done this,” you hum, though you can’t wipe the satisfied smile off your lips.

“Why not?”

“Because we work together.”

“So what? We aren’t allowed to like each other?” he smirks cockily.

“You like me?”

“Thought I made that pretty clear,” he chuckles rubbing his eyes. “But yeah, I do like you, Y/N. A lot.”

“I… like you too,” you admit shyly. Leaning in he kisses you again before pulling you to his chest as he lies on his back.

“Can I stay the night or you want to throw me out?” he hums closing his eyes. Chuckling your snuggle to him, making yourself comfortable, enjoying the warmth of his body after so spending so many nights alone in this bed.

“You can stay, but you have to behave.”

“Oh I will behave my best, don’t worry.” A chuckle rumbles through his chest as you both fall silent and soon enough, drift off to sleep.

You wake up tangled in the sheets, but no one else is lying in bed with you. Blinking the sleep out of your eyes you look around and though there’s no sign of Harry in the room you spot his clothes on the floor. That’s when you hear the pots and pans clinking somewhere outside and you smile to yourself. You pull a t-shirt on with a pair of clean panties before heading out, finding Harry in your kitchen, wearing your pink fluffy robe and nothing else as he is making what seems to be pancakes.

“I don’t remember hiring a chef,” you joke walking closer, sliding a hand down his back as you lean against the counter next to the stove.

“Good morning,” he smiles. “I really wanted for you to wake up but I was afraid my growling stomach might wake you up,” he chuckles as he flips the pancakes in the pan with the spatula.

“Found everything you needed?” you ask, walking over the fridge to grab the orange juice.

“Yeah, you have a neatly organized kitchen,” he hums. “Sorry for snooping around though.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Pouring the juice to two glasses you hand one to him which he thanks softly before placing the golden pancakes to the plate on the counter and pours another bunch into the pan.

Sipping on your juice you watch him move around, making breakfast in your robe and you can’t help but smile at the sight of this fine man in your kitchen. Harry catches you eyeing him and he cocks an eyebrow at you.

“What’s gotten you so smiley?” he asks, his voice still a little groggy and husky.

“I just… really want to kiss you,” you shrug placing the glass to the counter.

“I think we are over this whole asking for permission thing,” he smirks, stepping closer he leans down and kisses you gently, tasting like orange juice and something sweet, he has probably ate one of the pancakes. His hand that’s not holding the spatula finds your waist, the t-shirt bunches up on your side as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss before you hear sizzling coming from the stove.

“Whoops, not trying to burn the place down,” he chuckles as he turns to the pan and flips the pancakes. You wrap your arms around his waist and kiss his jawline before stepping away from him to set the table for breakfast.

“Do you have any plans this weekend?” he asks over breakfast.

“I have a meeting with my label on Saturday, but nothing else.”

“I’m having a few friends over Saturday evening, kind of a late Grammy nomination celebration. Want to come over?”

“Yeah, that… sounds good,” you nod smiling.

“I was thinking that maybe you could spend the night and then we can finish recording on Sunday.”

“Alright, I’m in.”

Harry takes a quick shower after breakfast before heading out, promising to call you later and though it still feels a little odd that he says goodbye with a kiss, you very much like this new setup between the two of you.

Friday evening Taylor is over at your place, she loves helping you sort out promo stuff you get sent all the time, especially because you let her take whatever you don’t want, half her closet was meant to be worn by you.

Sitting on the floor with boxes surrounding the both of you, you’re digging through them with a bottle of wine, some 90’s music playing in the background, it’s a nice and relaxing evening.

Your phone lights up with a text on the coffee table and you already know it’s from Harry. You haven’t stopped texting since he left from your place just a few days ago.

Harry: Do you think it’s a look for the Grammy’s?

He attached a photo of himself in all denim, looking very much like 2001 Justin Timberlake at the AMA.

Y/N: Should I match and pull a Britney?

Harry: Is that even a question?!

“Okay, who’s the girl?” Taylor asks, making you tear your eyes away from the phone’s screen.

“Huh?”

“Last time I saw you smiling like this at your phone you were talking to that girl you met at that award show. So who is it this time?”

“It’s… not a girl,” you admit, placing your phone back to the coffee table.

“Oh, did a guy finally manage to sweep you off your feet?” Taylor gives you an amused look, genuinely surprised to hear that this time it’s a guy that has you wrapped around his finger. “What is his name?”

“Harry,” you shortly answer and see her eyes widen.

“Wait, is it… Harry as in Harry Styles?”

“Yeah,” you admit with a soft chuckle.

“Oh my God, I knew I could feel some sexual tension between you two at Jeff’s office!”

“There wasn’t any, what are you talking about?”

“You didn’t see it because you were too busy trying to blow off the duet, but it was radiating from him.” She gives you a look, putting the sweater she’s been examining to the side. “So, how are things? Are you guys an item, or…?”

“We didn’t label anything, he just said he likes me and I like him too. And he… spent the night the other day.”

“Wait, what? Spent the night as in—“

“Yes, we had sex,” you confirm blushing.

“That’s like huge! The first man you’ve been with!”

“I know,” you chuckle.

“How was it?”

“Fucking amazing,” you truthfully admit with a sigh. “I didn’t think it could be this good with a guy. Maybe it’s just because it was with him.”

“He surely looks like a guy that takes good care of his girl. So what’s gonna happen? Are you guys together?”

“I don’t know. He doesn’t seem to care about names and labels, he just likes to do whatever he wants and if I’m being honest it’s kind of refreshing. We are just… enjoying whatever we have.”

“That sounds very liberal,” Taylor chuckles. “But I’m happy for you. You’ve been alone for way too long, I think he might do good to you.”

“I really hope,” you nod with a sigh.

“How is the song writing going?”

“We’re finishing up recording on Sunday. I’ll send it to you when it’s done and we can start all the paperwork and everything.”

“Amazing, you are doing great, Y/N, I’m proud of you,” she smiles and climbing over she wraps you in a tight hug.

“Thanks, Tay,” you smile at her. “Alright, now do you want these lace socks or should I burn them?” you ask holding up a whole pack of them, making her laugh.

Harry said it’s just a chill get together, nothing fancy so you decide to wear a khaki maxi skirt with a shirt tucked into it that was a gift from a fan, your first album’s name embroidered to the front. It’s one of your favorite pieces and you like wearing things your fans make you, gives the whole fit a plus.

Arriving to Harry’s place you spot that there are a few cars already parking on the driveway. You leave your overnight bag in the trunk, grab the bottle of wine you’ve brought and head inside. Unlike every time you’ve been here, the silence is now switched up with soft music and chatters, quite a few people lingering around the house already.

Just as you walk farther inside, Harry appears on the stairs and his face lights up at the sight of you.

“Hey! Did you just arrive?” He jogs down the rest of the stairs and walking up to you he pulls you close for a quick kiss without hesitation.

“Yeah. I know you said not to bring anything, but I hate coming to parties empty handed,” you chuckle softly, holding the wine bottle up.

“Thanks. Have you eaten? Jeff is grilling outside, but help yourself with anything.”

“I’ll be fine, thanks.”

“Sarah and Mitch are already here, but come on, let me introduce you to a few people.”

Harry takes your hand, lacing your fingers together with his. He drops the wine off in the kitchen before joining all the other guests. It’s really not that many people, just about thirty of his close circle. Musicians, people he has worked with and stayed close with, people he has known for long. Everyone seems welcoming and open, many already know who you are and it’s always a good conversation start, so there are not many awkward silences, especially because Harry is always near you, making sure you feel comfortable around his friends and it means a lot to you.

“Hey, everything alright?” Harry asks, when he finds you in the kitchen, refilling your glass. He walks up to you, placing a hand to your waist as he kisses into your hair.

“Yeah, your friends are nice,” you smile at him.

“I know, that’s why they are my friends,” he smirks, so full of himself. “Want to hear something interesting?”

“Always.”

“I was talking to Adam and our song came up and then out of nowhere I referred to you as my girlfriend.”

Seemingly he is testing the waters, trying to see how you react to the title, even a little afraid of what you might say, but it doesn’t scare you.

“Yeah? That’s interesting indeed.”

“Are you okay with it? I wasn’t really thinking about it, just slipped out.”

“It’s fine,” you smile at him softly.

“You don’t have to call me your boyfriend, call me whatever you want. It’s just a habit of mine, I guess,” he explains, popping some nuts into his mouth from the little jar on the counter.

“Alright,” you nod. Harry stares back at you for a moment before a smile stretches across his face and leaning down he kisses you shortly before taking your hand and walking back to the living room with you.

The last guests leave around midnight. After bringing your bag up to his bedroom you start cleaning up while Harry walks out the last couple leaving. You start loading the washer and put away things you’ve cleaned before.

“Oh, thank you for cleaning, but you don’t have to. I can take care of it later.”

“It’s nothing, I want to make myself useful,” you chuckle softly as you start the washer. Harry comes up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he kisses into your neck.

“I have other ideas for that,” he murmurs, his nose nudging the side of your face.

“Yeah? What kind of ideas?” you teasingly ask, closing your eyes when you feel his hand slide under the waist of your skirt, moving down your abdomen until it reaches your core.

“Fun kinds,” he chuckles lowly. His other hand turns your head so his lips could meet yours, you’re still pressed up against him, melting against his chest with your back just right, like you’re two puzzle pieces.

“Fuck,” you breathe out when his fingers wander into your underwear and they start doing their magic. “Harry!” you whine, reacting intensely to his actions.

“I fucking love hearing my name from your pretty mouth,” he growls, kissing you hard before his lips part from yours and he starts bunching up your skirt.

You don’t protest, in fact, you lean forward, grabbing onto the edge of the counter as he pulls down your panties and you hear the zipper of his pants. Glancing over your shoulders you see him pull out a condom from his pocket and you can’t push down a laughter.

“Did you keep that in your pocket all evening?”

“Wanted to be ready when I finally got you all for myself,” he smirks, pulling his cock out of his boxer briefs, rolling on the condom.

His hands come in contact with your hips and ass cheeks, giving them a light squeeze before you feel him lining himself up with you. His palm slides up your back as he pushes into you, both of you moaning at the fulfilling sensation.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” he breathes out as he pushes all the way inside before starting to pull out.

“Go hard, Harry. Please!” you whimper as he starts thrusting into you. Harry lets out a growl and slams into you, making you gasp at the harshness of the movement, but that’s exactly what you wanted.

The kitchen is filled with the noises coming from the washer next to you and the slapping noise of Harry’s hips meeting your ass with every forceful thrust he makes. His ring clad fingers dig into your hips, probably already making them red, but you couldn’t care less. You hold onto the edge of the counter, but then you move one hand to cover his on you, needing to touch him in some kind of way.

Leaning forward Harry kisses your back between your shoulder blades through the thin material of your shirt and you moan his name when he hits the perfect spot inside you.

“Shit, Harry! I’m g-gonna cum!” you gasp, perking your ass up more so he can go as deep as possible.

“Let go for me, baby. Come on!”

“I want to cum with you.”

“Yeah? Then hold on for a little longer, I’m almost there.”

You try your best to keep everything inside you under control, your orgasm is really on the edge and you can only hope he is nearing his end too.

“Harry! Please!”

“Fuck, okay, okay, cum for me! Let me feel you!” he moans and his words bring you the release.

You clench around him, moaning and whimpering and it finally pushes you into his bliss too. His thrusts slow down but they are hard and go deep, helping you ride the last bits of your high.

He pulls out and gets rid of the condom before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you up from your position so he can kiss your lips.

“How about we take a shower while the washer finishes?” he suggests, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Mm, good idea.”

Once the song is fully finished you submit it to your label after an agreement that it should come out through yours, but it wouldn’t be tied to your or Harry’s upcoming album. Everyone seems to love it, Taylor is over the moon when you show her the final version and Jeff is just as happy about it. Having only three more weeks left until the Grammy’s, you send them your request to perform the duet instead of the medley they asked. Their answer comes the next day and they are more than happy to have you premiere your new duet at the show. Everything seems to be on track.

Following a rehearsal for the Grammy performance, you’re staying over at Harry’s, just eating takeout and having a lazy evening after a whole day of working. You’ve put on a new Netflix movie, but every time you look at Harry you feel like his mind is somewhere far away.

“Want to share what’s on your mind?” you ask softly, not wanting to be pushy, you’re just trying to be there for him.

“I’ve just been thinking.”

“About what?” He looks up at you, clearly hesitant whether he should share it with you or not.

“About what you said about your parents.”

“Oh,” is all you can say. Pausing the movie you turn all your attention to him. “What about it?”

“I was just talking to my mom the other day, she is coming here for the Grammy’s and I thought about how you… won’t have your parents there with you.”

“There’s a reason for that.”

“Yeah, but then I thought about how you said you haven’t even let them contact you since then and that maybe they’ve changed their mind about the whole situation. You’ve clearly proved them wrong with building yourself a career, maybe they can now see that what they did was wrong.”

You remain silent, chewing on his words. You’ve been great at not thinking about your parents these past years, it feels weird to have a conversation about them out of nowhere. Harry takes your silence as a warning sign, though that’s not the case.

“You know what? I’m sorry for bringing it up. It’s not really my business, I shouldn’t have brought it up, sorry,” he shakes his head.

“What… would you do if you were in my place?”

Harry looks at you, surprised you are willing to continue the conversation. His hand finds your thigh and he gives it a gentle squeeze.

“I think it might worth a shot to just… contact them. See if they want to maybe get in touch again.”

“And what if they don’t?”

“Then… you know you made the right decision leaving. I know it’s scary, but I think you should take a chance.”

“I’ll… think about it,” you nod shortly.

“Take your time, do whatever you feel comfortable with.” He pulls you into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you get comfortable in his embrace before starting the movie again.

Two weeks before the show you are headed to a fitting with Harry, your matching sets are nearly done, but they needed you to try them on and make sure they fit just perfectly. True to your and Harry’s extravagant fashion, this performance won’t lack any over the top fits either. It was clear from the beginning that you would be matching, but you made it clear that you want to bring it to the level where you’d be wearing the exact same outfit, so now there are two sets of suits in the making, the pattern of the whole two piece is recalling a kind of space vibe, blues, purples and black meeting in the colors with hundreds of embroidered stars and planets littering the fabric with additional crystal stars to make it even more extra. It’s truly one of a kind, especially paired with the sheer, tulle shirt you both will be wearing underneath.

“We look fucking great, babe,” Harry smirks as the two of you stand next to each other, examining yourself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror on the small podium.

“We really do,” you smirk, satisfied with how the performance is coming together. It’s gonna be the perfect way to celebrate both your first Grammy nominations, a huge milestone in your and Harry’s career as well.

Grabbing his phone he quickly takes a picture in the mirror of the two of you, pulling you to his side as you smile into the camera through the mirror. Then you leave him alone on the podium as they are pinning his pants to make it the perfect size. Stepping to your bag you fish your phone out and reading just the first few words of Taylor’s last message she sent about ten minutes ago, you feel all blood rushing out of your face. Tapping on the notification you start reading.

Taylor: Please don’t lose your head, but we are dealing with this.

She attached several articles and you start digging through them.

“Is Harry Styles dating his new duet partner?”

“Harry Styles cozied up with Y/N Y/L/N at dinner with friends.”

“Can we expect some hot make out sessions at the Grammy’s from Harry and his new beau?”

And then there’s the absolute worst.

“Is Y/N Y/L/N going to take Harry Styles to court too?”

“Shit, shit, shit,” you mumble under your breath, vigorously typing back to Taylor to take them down. Two pictures have been leaked from the time you had dinner with Sarah and Mitch, it’s so odd because it’s been weeks since then, where were these pictures all along? Not that it matters, all you want is for them to be gone.

Against your better judgment, you go online and check your social media even though you know you shouldn’t snoop around now that it’s out there. No surprise, you and Harry are trending, but the reactions are very much mixed.

The impact of your case with Jordan is still major. It doesn’t matter that you won, people are still questioning whether he said the truth or not and now they are afraid you might drag Harry down just like you did with Jordan. That you are just trying to use his fame to get more attention and then ruin his career, making a victim out of yourself again, because apparently that’s what you’ve been doing.

You’re not only being dragged, but all of a sudden, nothing is about the music and the art you are making, people just want to know if you’re fucking Harry Styles or not. A lot of the times you’re not even named, only referred to Harry’s new lover or what’s worse, his hookup. You’ve lost all the credit you worked so hard for and for what? Because you dared to have dinner with a man?

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Harry asks walking up to you. Your eyes snap up at him and he immediately sees the shock and anger in them, setting panic in him as well. “What is it?”

“The fucking… pictures,” you hiss handing him your phone so he can see the articles for himself. He scrolls through them with furrowed eyebrows, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip before handing the phone back once he has gotten to the end of it.

“Let’s finish this up and head home, okay? We’ll figure it all out.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and you nod, trying your best to keep your anger at bay while the designers finish up on the outfits.

An hour later you walk into your place, talking on the phone with Taylor, discussing the situation though there’s not much you can do at this point. It’s all out, the pictures can’t be taken down. She suggests to just keep quiet for now, she’ll call Jeff to see what could be done as damage control.

Throwing your phone to the bed you feel your whole body shaking from the anger, it’s agonizing to know there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine. We’ll figure it out,” Harry speaks up, trying his best to calm you down, but it’s not really working this time.

“Stop saying it, you don’t know that for sure. I can’t believe this bullshit is happening all over again,” you breathe out shaking your head.

“Again?”

“Yes! I’m being fucking dragged for something I shouldn’t be.”

“People will always have controversial opinion on everything, you can’t get them all to like you.”

“It’s not about liking, Harry!” you snap. “I couldn’t give a damn about people liking me, but they discredit my work. Have you read those articles? I’m seen with a man and suddenly, I’m not even seen as an artist anymore. I’m not even my own person in some of them, just a girl who is linked to you. How is that fair?” “It’s not, but stressing yourself about it until you’re sick is not gonna help anything,” he retorts in a firm voice.

“So I should just sit around and so nothing while watching all my work go to shit?”

“Nothing is going to shit! This is how it goes, there’s always something people talk about but they will forget about it in a week. That doesn’t take anything away from what you’ve proved through your career.”

“Now that’s a lie. Because if they did forget about things in a week, they wouldn’t be bringing up the whole Jordan thing now. I dared to stand up for myself against a man and look where it took me to! I’m the drama queen, the lying bitch who likes to ruin men for apparently no reason and they see me as a threat when it comes to you too. People are talking about how I’ll take you to court as well, they think I’m just using you even though they know nothing about me! And the worst part is that it wouldn’t be like this if I weren’t a woman. Whatever happens, however we react to the situation, it will never have the same effect on your career than it will have on mine.”

“So what, you’ll just live your life without ever doing anything that’s gonna upset people? There will always be someone who’ll judge whatever you do, you can’t do anything about that and if you let them get to you now, they’ll know they can mess with you easily.”

“So I’m just supposed to ignore everything? And not do a single thing about it? It’s easy for you, you’ll walk away from this without a scratch on your name, because you are a white man who can do no wrong in the eyes of the world.”

“Okay, now you are being mean for no reason.”

“I’m telling you the truth,” you retort. “And you know what else is part of the truth? That I’m not even having it the worse. There are women who are even more targeted because of their religion, their skin color, their nationality or sexuality and people don’t even realize how hard it is for any of us. I’m sick of the injustice we have to live with just because of our gender!”

“I do acknowledge the problem on hand, I’m aware of it and I’m all for doing against it, but we are not gonna solve it instantly, it’s a long process. Sometimes we just have to pull back a little, be smart about things.”

“They will never stop about this,” you shake your head, stubbornly clinging onto your opinion. “I won’t be seen as a serious artist anymore, just some girl who was linked to you. It’s fucking done, over.”

“Y/N, what are you trying to say?” Harry asks with caution.

“Exactly what you are thinking about,” you reply with a bitter laugh. “I can’t be a respected artist if I’m with you.”

“That’s not true. It will die down, they will see that you are more than just who you’re dating and everything will be fine.”

“What’s not fair is that I have to work for it to be fine while you are still the same artist you were before it all blew up. Don’t you think it’s unfair?” you call him out and part of you knows you’re being mean and unnecessarily rude to him, but you just can’t control it any longer. You need to let it out and unfortunately, he is the one who is here to take the blame.

“It is, but what are you expecting me to do about it? Release a statement asking people to only talk about my dating life to make it equal? What can be done is that we try to fight this together, show them that you’re more than just a woman who is linked to a man in any kind of way.”

“Yeah, like realization is just gonna hit them,” you snap. “I’m at a turning point in my career, Harry. Whether I win a Grammy or not, this time is going to have an impact on my future. If I’m seen as just a girl linked to you, I’ll never make it. I’ll be forgotten and dragged again and I can kiss my career goodbye.”

You know you were way too harsh, but it’s what you think to be the truth. You didn’t fight your way to this point in life just to be seen as a man’s girlfriend rather than the artist you truly are. And right now, you can’t see yourself get out of this situation without letting go of Harry.

“Y/N, please don’t let this ruin what we have. We can get through this, you can’t let them control your life this much. Who are they to tell you what to do? That’s not the Y/N I know, come on!”

He tries to step closer, reaching out for you, but you take a step back, wanting to keep the distance between the two of you.

“I would prefer to be alone now,” you sternly say, folding your arms on your chest, closing yourself off from him as you don’t even look at him, because if you did, you know you would break.

“Y/N, please don’t do this, we—“

“Alone!” you snap, cutting him off.

He stares at you, hoping you might change your mind, but you’re quite set on this. He knows you well enough to know you won’t budge anytime soon. He lets out a shaky breath and slowly turning around, he heads towards the door as you’re already fighting your tears back. He stops right before he is about to walk out.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N,” he quietly says before walking out, the door shutting closed behind him.

The sobs start immediately and you fall to the ground, tears soaking your cheeks, already missing him more than anything in your life. You really thought it would be different this time, that things might get better, but you were naïve.

The next two days go by in a blur. The whole fucking internet is filled with those damn pictures of you and Harry, nothing has been about any of your Grammy nominations or even about your music, you’ve officially became the woman Harry Styles is dating.

Harry was titled as a Grammy nominee in every goddamn writing that surfaced, he was completely credited for his work while you could be happy if your name was written correctly. With every new article, your faith in having the career you worked so hard for lessened until you felt hopeless. You’ve officially became a dumb celebrity, just a woman who was known to be dating a man in the industry.

On the evening of the second day you have enough. You just read yet another degrading piece of you that was clearly written by a man, they once again talked about your case with Jordan, joking about history repeating itself and you swear you could scream and throw a tantrum like a baby at how useless and helpless you feel.

You put your laptop to the side and reach for your phone, dialing Taylor’s number.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” she asks right away, knowing well how hard these past days have been. She came over the evening you sent Harry away and tried to comfort you, but nothing could help you that night.

“Hey, I want to ask you to do something and not try to talk me out of it.”

“Oh God…” she sighs, already knowing you’re about to do something stupid according to her.

“I don’t want to perform at the Grammy’s.”

“What? With all due respect, are you fucking stupid?”

“I’m not stupid. But I don’t want to do it.”

“Well, this has got to be the most ridiculous move you’ve ever tried to pull. Why do you want to throw such a huge thing away?”

“I can’t… sing that song with Harry. If I stand on the stage and sing with him… I just can’t do it, Tay.”

“Of course you can! Suck it up! I know you miss him and it fucking sucks what’s happening, but you have to do it!” she tries to convince you, but you’ve already made your mind up.

“No. I’m not doing it. Please let them know that it’s going to be just Harry performing.”

And with that, you end the call.

Taylor knows better than to try to fight you, she doesn’t call back though you know she wants to murder you right now probably, but she’ll come around, she always does. You make yourself a tea hoping to relax your nerves with it though you know nothing can help you now. You wish you had someone to rely on, someone you could talk to right now, but usually Taylor is that person to you and lately Harry has been your support, but you can’t call either of them. The rest of the people you consider friends… they are just not that close to you. You’re left alone, again.

As your gaze wanders over to your phone, a thought pops up in your mind that makes your hands sweat. You think back to the conversation you had with Harry about your parents and you can’t shake the urge off to finally make that call.

“Fuck it,” you breathe out and grab the device, opening up the contacts until you find what you’ve been looking for. Your thumb hovers above the call button for a while before you finally tap on it and start the call. It rings four times before a voice speaks up on the other end.

“Halo?”

“Hi mom,” you reply and hear a gasp from her at your voice.

There’s less than a week left until the Grammy’s. For your own sake, you haven’t been online outside of answering work emails, you just can’t deal with the shit show your life has become on the internet.

You haven’t left your home unless you really needed to go somewhere, did most of your meetings over the phone or videochat and postponed a fitting as well. You’ve officially caved yourself up in your apartment and you are not planning on leaving anytime soon.

Taylor keys herself in, she hasn’t even mentioned that she might drop by, but you’re not surprised. She is probably here to try to bring you out of this pity party you’ve been holding for days. When she sees you lying on the couch in sweats and messy, unwashed hair, she sighs, shaking her head.

“You really need to pull your shit together, Y/N.”

“I’m fine,” you mumble, pulling your fuzzy blanket up to your chin.

“No, you’re not. This is not the bad bitch I know.”

“Bad bitches have bad days too.”

“This is not a bad day, you look like a fucking zombie. This is not what a Grammy nominee should look like days before the big show.”

“Doesn’t matter, it’s not like I’m performing or anything,” you shrug, but the look in Taylor’s eyes make yours go wide. “Taylor, I’m not performing, you informed them about it, right?”

“This is why I’m here,” she sighs walking closer, sitting on the other end of the couch. “I never cancelled on your performance.”

“I told you I’m not doing it!” “I know, but I was hoping you might come around. But you seem to be still acting like a stupid bitch, so that didn’t happen. However, I’ve gotten an interesting email today.”

She pulls out her phone and opens the email before handing it over to you. Shooting her an unhappy look you start reading.

Hi Taylor!

I got your email address from Jeff, wanted to write to you myself. I’ve officially pulled out of the Grammy performance so it’s going to be only Y/N in it. We are also working on a statement to release over the whole ordeal and my lawyers have been after the bigger gossip sites to get the articles down. I want Y/N to have the Grammy experience she deserves and I know it can’t happen with me in the performance. Tell her that I’m sorry for ruining it for her, she deserves so much more. I’m sorry she was brought into this.

I hope to see you soon, take care!

Harry

With parted lips, you look up at Taylor who is smiling softly at you.

“He… pulled out for me.”

“He did. Talked to Jeff on the phone, they have already let them know Harry wouldn’t be performing, they will make it official tomorrow.”

“But he deserves this just as much as I do. He is a nominee too.”

“Well, seems like he values you more than his own success.” Taylor lets out a long sigh and scooting closer she places a hand to your knee. “Look, I know you’re upset about how the media treats you just because you were seen out with Harry, and I know that you’re afraid of getting labeled as just the girl he dates and not get taken seriously as an artist, but you can’t let them stop you from living your life how you want to. There will always be judgment, there will always be men who are worse than trash and want to bring you down, but you are stronger than that. Pushing Harry away and being alone for the rest of your life is not a solution. What you can do to put them to their place is give them a big fuck you, date the hottest man in the industry and continue being the bad bitch that you are, fighting against the way you are being treated. Speak up, show them who they are dealing with, share your truth, like you always do! But you can do all of this with Harry by your side. You deserve to be happy and he makes you happy, don’t make yourself miserable because we live in a world where men are still placed above women. Fight for the change but don’t forget to think about yourself as well in the process.”

You feel the tears sting in your eyes. The weight of this past week is just way too heavy to carry, but Taylor is right and you are realizing that you’ve made it harder for yourself. The sobs come before you could stop yourself and Taylor pulls you into a hug.

“I know, I know. It fucking sucks, but you can’t let them win,” she soothes, running her hands up and down your back. “Show them how big of a bad bitch you are and get the man too.”

“You think Harry still wants to be with me?”

“I think that man would be on his knees for you in a heartbeat if you asked,” she chuckles pulling back. “Statement about the performance will be released tomorrow. That’s how long you have to figure it out,” she tells you with a knowing look before leaving you alone with your thoughts, however you don’t have to think long what you have to do.

You have not been the only one these past days took a toll on. The fight the two of you had left Harry completely drained, angry and helpless. He hated that he was the reason you weren’t credited as the talented artist that you are and he couldn’t stop thinking about ways to make it better. That’s when he came up with the idea of pulling out of the performance.

Now he is ready to spend the remaining days until the award show hidden from the world, not even leaving the house. Everyone close to him knows he is better not to be disturbed now, so he is quite surprised when the security system lets him know that someone has arrived.

As you drive up to his house you spot him immediately, stepping out the front door with a shocked look on his face, probably expecting you to be the last person to be there at the moment. You wipe your sweaty palms against your thighs as you walk up to him, feeling anxious to see him and talk to him, especially after the last conversation you had.

“Hey, I’m sorry for coming here without calling or anything…” you shyly start, stopping in front of you.

“Don’t be silly. Come… Come on in,” he clears his throat inviting you inside.

You’ve walked through this front door so many times in the past almost two months, but this is the first time you feel so odd, standing out, like you have no place in here and it’s all thanks to yourself.

“Do you want something to drink? Are you hungry?” Harry walks past you but then turns to face you, talking to you with such warmth and kindness, even after how you acted, putting blame on him for something he has no control over. It completely breaks you and can’t stop your eyes from watering as you look at him. You really hoped you’ve run out of tears in the past days, but it seems like that’s not the case at all.

“Harry, I’m so sorry,” you breathe out shakily and you step closer to each other at the same time, he envelopes you in his strong arms and you fist his shirt at his chest. “I know it was none of your fault, I just got so desperate and afraid that it might ruin what I worked so hard for.”

“I know. And you were right about everything. Everything you said was true and I’m sorry you have to deal with it.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t right to be mad at you just because you have different privileges, it’s not like you can change who you are. So I’m really sorry about that, and also for pushing you away when you were just trying to be there for me. I was so stupid,” you breathe out, wiping the tears sliding your cheeks down away.

“You just panicked, it’s okay. Don’t apologize for wanting to protect yourself.”

Resting your forehead against his shoulder you wait for your sobs to die down before you look back up at him. Reaching up he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, smiling down at you warmly and that smile alone ensures you that you are exactly where you are supposed to be, with the right person.

“Taylor showed me the email you sent her,” you bring it up, clearing your throat.

“You deserve it all to yourself so people can see how amazing of an artist you are.”

“I’m not doing it without you,” you shake your head stubbornly. “We wrote the song together and we’re gonna perform it together or else I’m not doing it either.”

“Y/N, you know if we step on that stage together they are gonna twist the whole thing and make it about something else. I want you to have this opportunity for your career without me ruining it with just my presence.”

“Fuck them, if they take it as something it’s not. They are not gonna take the chance away from us to perform our song. If they are such fucking dumbasses that they make it all about what’s between us, that’s their own personal problem. If I need to, I’ll go on a Twitter rant and tell them this myself. I want you on stage with me or else I’m not doing it either.”

Harry breathes out through his nose, pressing his lips together as he stares back at you, probably realizing you are dead serious about pulling out of the performance and he is right. He doesn’t even know you were the first one to cancel on it, you’d do it again without hesitation.

“I guess we are performing then,” he cracks a small smile and throwing your arms around his neck you pull him down, lips smashing against his, the kiss mingling with giggles and smiles.

Harry wraps his arms tight around your waist, pulling you up from the ground as he spins you around, making you squeal as you hold onto him.

“I have to call Jeff to call the Grammy’s not to post the statement,” he hums against your lips and he pecks them a few more times before letting go of you to quickly make a call to his manager.

You move over to the couch in his living room as he talks to Jeff, who is luckily very understanding about the sudden change. Hugging your knees to your chest you watch him pace the floor, exchanging a few more words with the man on the phone before ending the call, his gaze dropping to you again. Sitting beside you, he kisses your temple, dropping an arm around your shoulders as you lean against him, head resting on his chest.

“I called my mom,” you drop the bomb suddenly and you can feel him tense up for a moment, probably shocked by your words.

“You did?”

“Yeah.” Lifting your head your gaze meets his as you carry on. “She was… very shocked to hear my voice.”

“I bet,” he hums. “What did you talk about?”

“I just… asked how they are doing and told her that I’ve been thinking a lot about them. She sounded genuinely touched by it and said I’m always welcomed for dinner or lunch if I’d like to see them.”

“That’s amazing! See, I told you they would love to hear from you!”

“Yeah,” you smile at him softly. “I think I want to go over sometime after the Grammy’s.”

“I’m sure it’s going to go well.”

“Would you please come with me?”

Your question catches him off-guard he seems surprised that you would want him there, but then his expression softens as he leans down and kisses your forehead.

“I would love to, if you want me there.”

“I do,” you nod.

“Then it’s settled,” he smiles warmly as you lay your head back to his chest, his fingers gently dancing up and down your arm and for once in your life you finally feel settled, like everything is going to be fine.

Highlights of the 63rd Annual Grammy Awards: Y/N Y/L/N blows up stage with new hit duet

The killer duo surprised us all with a brand new duet titled Floating Through Space, performed it together on their big night. Wearing matching galaxy themed suits, Y/L/N and Styles have closed off the evening with probably the most success, the latter winning two out of his three nominations, receiving the award for Best Music Video and Best Pop Vocal Album with his latest album, Fine Line, while Y/L/N was titled best new artist, becoming a Grammy winner early in her career.

Tabloids blew up earlier this month when the two singers were photographed cozied up at dinner with friends, speculations started about their possible romance, but Y/L/N has made a clear statement on the question with her red carpet appearance before the award show. Wearing a head to toe black Gucci gown paired with a dramatic cape, the message “I’M AN ARTIST, ASK ME ABOUT MY ART” painted onto it in red, making a bold statement about her opinion on the way the media has been treating the star.

Both singers remained silent on their alleged romance, but proved to be the best of their time with their joined performance with their new emotional duet. Following the song’s debut on stage it was released to the public as a single right away, taking over all charts with its overwhelming success.

Listen to Floating Through Space now on Spotify and Apple Music!

Your knuckles are turning white from the tight grip on the steering wheel as you stare up at the home you grew up in. It looks almost the same, sometime through the years you haven’t been around your parents have painted it a light blue color from the paste yellow, but it’s still… the same.

“Hey.”

Turning to your right you look at Harry who is smiling at you warmly as his hand reaches over and squeezes your knee gently.

“It’s going to be fine. I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you, you’re still their daughter.”

“That’s not what they told me the last time I was here,” you whisper, feeling your throat closing up.

“We all say things in the heat of the moment. Seeing how happy they were about this lunch proves that they regret what happened.”

Nodding you take a deep breath to get ready for whatever is going to happen. Leaning over the console you pull Harry in for a kiss and it calms your nerves a little. Getting out of the car he takes your hand and squeezes it to let you know he’ll be right by your side all along. As you walk up to the front porch a sense of strong nostalgia washes over you.

You didn’t have a bad childhood, your parents provided you so much growing up, it’s sad to think what it has become. In a way you feel more anxious than walking the red carpet a week ago for the Grammys even though you’re just meeting your parents, but this is a turning point in your life that needed to come sooner or later.

“I’m right here, baby. It’s going to be fine,” Harry murmurs, kissing your forehead before you ring the doorbell, feeling weird that you come here as a guest, not as someone who belongs here.

You hear footsteps approaching on the other side, two frames appear through the clouded glass of the front door and then it flies open, pushing all air out of your lungs, clinging tightly onto Harry’s hand. There’s a moment of silence and just staring at each other before the tiniest smile tugs on your lips.

“Hi mom, hi dad.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

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