#wait thats only five bands help

[sleepanonymous]

🖤On Repeat Music Tag🖤

Rules: shuffle your 'on repeat' playlist & post the first ten tracks, then tag ten people

I got tagged by @murderofcrow (thank you for including me🖤🥹) for this music tag.

To be perfectly honest the entire Pain Remains album is on my "On Repeat" playlist on Spotify, so I am very lucky only 3 of the 10 songs showed up here 😅

I honestly have no clue who to tag on this account (esp since I'm doing this a day late and i think all my mutuals have done this already)... so if anyone sees this and wants to do this but hasn't been tagged then I am tagging you🖤

[yourtouchismidas]

could you write matth and rg taking the girls trick or treating for the first time please?? 🥺

so i think you take gigi trick or treating every year when she is very little, too little to remember, dressing her up as an avocado when she is a five month old and has only just learned how to hold her own hear up, and then as a spider when she is one, with big stuffed legs that she chewed on while held her in your arms and matty rand doorbells for her and smiled proudly as everyone cooed, then took all the candy round to georges to eat when they got high. when she is three she chooses her own costume, a witch, and asks for the sweets herself. matty still eats most of it, "to save her little teeth" and you share a few chocolate bars with her.

gigi's fourth halloween, you are with matty on tour in america, lounging in the hotel room the morning before his halloween show. you've talked about the fact that it's halloween, obviously, over gigi's head, and the boys have picked out their costumes for the show. gigi hasnt really said anything about it all day, you're not sure she even remembers halloweens past, or if its all just a hazy dribbly chocolate blur. but while you and matty are cuddling in bed watching telly, gigi hitches herself up to look out the hotel window.

"its scary day!" she says.

"yeah, gi," you say, "it's halloween."

she runs back over from the window and jumps on you both "we need to get my costume!"

you peer out the window yourself and see a bunch of school children waiting at their bus stop, all dressed in cute little costumes.

"we can get you a costume" matty says.

"will we have time?" you fret, worried about getting to the venue and sound check and everything.

"yeah, definitely."

"then we can knock on people's doors?" gigi says, "thats what you do on halloween"

you and matty look at each other. there will not be time for trick or treating, you know that. you break this news to gigi, and she starts sobbing into matty's chest, and he strokes her hair but he can't change anything, you simply dont have time. he feels like the worst person in the world.

gigi is still crying when you meet the rest of the band for breakfast, and she holds her hands up to george and he lifts her up and asks whats wrong. she just buries her head in his shoulder.

"we dont have time to go trick or treating," you explain.

"oh dear, gus," george says, as she sobs into his shoulder, "it's a hard life isnt it love?"

you take gigi to walmart while they sort venue stuff out, and she picks a skeleton onesie and you take her back to the hotel room and draw more bones on her face with eyeliner. she giggles with delight.

matty texts, can you bring gi back stage before the show? everythings done, wanna hang.

so you set off. when you get back stage, it's oddly quiet, like no one is there. you cant hear voices. the stage set looms like an empty house, the arena echoey. you take gigi and go and try and find matty's dressing room by yourself, with no one to ask. you find it, in a corridor of dressing rooms, the first one with matty's name taped on the front. you knock.

matty opens the door in his costume. he's dressed as a magician, with a black suit with coat and tails, a top hat, and a wand.

"oh hello there, can i help you?" he asks, looking surprised. you and gigi side eye each other.

"matty," she says, "it's me. your daughter."

"i'm just a person in my house on halloween. ready to give treats to the children who knock" he says, "or tricks," he says, poking gigi with his wand and making her squeal. he disappears behind the door and hands her a plastic basket shaped like a pumpkin, and then tips out a bag of sharing candy into it.

"yay!" gigi says, and you smile knowingly at matty, kissing him on the cheek and wrapping your arms around him.

"no time for this affection young lady," he says, unwrapping your arms from him, but kissing you quickly on the side of the head, "plenty more houses to visit." he gestures down the corridor at the unopened dressing room doors. you grin. matty waves his wand dramatically at the both of you, then closes his door slowly behind him, saying "have a good night," in the most creepy voice he can muster.

you go from door to door, and behind each is another member of the band, or their partner, or a manager, or a security guard. george is dressed as frankensteins monster and chases gigi down the halls with his arms out in the front of him. Ross is wearing red lycra as the devil, a tail pinned to his bum, his long hair all out and down his back, two red horns sticking up out of his head. he's bought way too much candy for gigi and she throws herself at him in gratitude, screaming "i love the devil!" and making you both split with laughter. adam jumps out dressed as a ghost and gigi screams and then pretends not to be frightened at all, and ends up chasing adam round the halls with ross' red plastic pitchfork.

you have gigi say thank to the boys, for making her her own trick or treating street backstage, and she kisses her daddy with her black lipstick before he goes on stage, and he leaves the print there the whole show, while you watch in the audience and your little skeleton falls asleep in your arms, happy as ever on halloween.

[halfadoginatank]

Simon and his father take a trip to the Scottish highlands for the summer, he knows only one of them will leave.

Johnny is a boy obsessed with filming explosions from fireworks he's not supposed to have.

Los Vaqueros are a group of Mexican teens derailed from their field trip waiting for teachers that might not come back.

Huge lore and plot dump below.

Mild tw for Simons father

Simons father has always taken him on hunting trips, sometimes he hated them, some times he liked them. But he'd never taken him this far from manchester. There are weapons in the cabin they rent, his father is eerily sober, one of them is going to die out here. Simon can only hope that Tommy won't be next.

Johnny meets him when he strays too far from his father. Part of it on purpose, he would never be on equal footing, more so when his father had the rifle and not him. He's in the tree's, at first simon thinks its prey, but there's a camera lense staring right at his scope.

Los Vaqueros come later, the leader arguing with a girl with choppy hair, Valeria and Alejandro trade glares while Rodolfo tries to mediate. Their bus broke down, leaving them stuck in town desperately renting a cabin near but far from the one simon is in.

It's the most interesting thing thats happened to johnny, and in the makeshift bonfire Valeria corners him and Simon. Her gaze is snakelike and a ring clinks on the bottle she's holding

"You say that he's an asshole yes? Your padre. Mine was the same, en mi opinión? It is kill or be killed."

Valeria nods at Alejandro, she tells them of a faceless force where she's from. The person sponsoring the trip for them, 'good will'. The five of them band together, the rest of the Vaqueros utterly ignorant.

Simon will save his family, Alejandro will get them home, and johnny? He's going to make the best home video.

-

Yeah so thats the whole plot, originally it was just going to be ghoap but somehow the Vaqueros fell into place. It kind of made more sense to have Valeria give them the idea? She doesnt have a whole bunch of canon lore so I figured she'd have an in with the cartel via her father, who was awful. And when Valeria killed him the nameless helped her cover it up and she got her own little spot.

Alejandro broke off their relationship after that, it's why they're on bad terms. He formed the Vaqueros as a funny joke that he started to take seriously when kids around Las Almas genuinely needed help that wasnt someway connected to the cartel, adults had that with rudys mother, so Ale and his childhood friend Rudy decided to help people their age in a way that doesn't rely on adults too much.

Everyone here is about 16-18. Soap is 17, ghost is as well but a few months older. Rudy Alejandro and Valeria are 18. And the youngest cowboy is 16.

Im trying to fit Gaz and Alex in? Im thinking that they both live in Texas, Gazs parents had a falling out since mum was from Texas hes there. Their school is on the same trip in the same bus a sort of cross trip to help the shitty american public school get a better name, as well as the cartels big PR move with having a class from one of Las Almas' schools.

Johnny is a bit weird here, but his motivation is he's suffering from extreme middle kid issues. Loves his family but since he's almost invisible is able to just kinda run off as long as hes back home eventually. He has a camera he uses to film any of his mishaps with, its essentially just jackass. As well as a video diary. Dont be fooled, its also an excuse for me to write some of it in script like format.

Simon is almost exactly the same as he is in the 09 comics, obviously a bit different. But childhood is the same.

I wanted farah to be here so bad but her childhood is literally a warzone and theres no way I can get her and her brother in Scotland. Because im trying so hard to make this somewhat believable, like yes its is a summer mystery horror au. But god I just really need things to make a little sense otherwise I cant do it. Same with Price Nik and Laswell. Like I could group Laswell in with Alex and gaz, and maybe I could pair her with Valeria for funsies. However Nikolai is in russia so... oopsie, and price? Like... how do you turn price into a teenager, he'd be what 19 or 20? Theres no reason he'd be in school, I dont think he'd be held back.

Also you may wonder, why is graves not here? Uh.... because I dont care, he wouldn't have a place here. The antagonist is Simons father, and honestly man? I just dont care that much for his character.

Man theres... theres so much I have here dude, I want to throw roach in there, and I THINK I could squeeze him in as one of ghosts school mates but the point is the first act has Simon completely isolated.

Anyway thats it. Bye.

[i-write-sin-not-tragedy]

...Top five Charlie moments, I'm curious.

Sorry this took so long!!! I had many feelings lol

Here we go!

5. Her ranting to Alastor

It's just a cute moment to me! I especially love Alastors aroace stare of death the enitre time but also i think its a good moment to highlight how Charlie works? If that makes sense. It was nice to see her ranting to him, frustrated and confused over the situation with Vaggie. A runner-up to this is definitely her talk with Rosie, but i particularly enjoyed seeing Charlie just. Ranting lol

4. Her Hugging Angel

YALL HAD TO KNOW THIS ONE WAS COMING i Have so many things to say about the end of episode 4 but this this is my favorite scene. Like they could have easily played it off or not really addressed it but Charlie waiting up till Husk brought Angel home???? Specifically so she could apologize to him?? Just overall her realizing that she messed up. Angel accecpting the apology and telling her he understands that she genuinely wanted to help him.

This scene means a lot it was so sweet it was so kskfkwkfkekdkwkd Charlie is such a kind hearted person and it was eating her alive to know in her fury and anger to protect Angel she inadvertently made things worse,,,,god. Sweet girl im so happy they hugged im so happy he reassured her it was okay, he knows her heart is in the right place.

3. "Just, come see what im trying to do here. It's really important to me."

I just aaaaaaa god FUCK. She genuinely cares about them so much. Charlie has found company and family in this band of misfits and at this point knows they all believe in her, and this scene melts me. Charlie telling her dad how important this is (and the flash to Angel and Pens faces and how those words alone mean so much to them ill cry)

Charlie believes in them so much. She calls them her family to adams face later on, and i melt

2. "What makes you think you can treat him like that!?"

Just. Angry Charlie. Charlie looking ready to beat Valentinos ass into the ground (and she probably would have had Angel not stepped in)

Like I genuinely believe she'd be pissed if she saw ANY of the other Hotel staff being treated like this, but I do think it being Angel played a part in HOW mad she got.

(Let me cook here okay)

Its like. Angel up till then had been making a point to not let on bad things were for him. He only ever called Val his "Boss". He actively hid and covered up his text messages. Charlie had been operating under the impression that Angel was an addict and sex worker, but she had absolutely no idea he was a victim.

Thats why i love this moment. You see it click in her head. The way she watches Val push Angel, the way her eyes follow, you can literally SEE her putting the pieces together, the Realization of just how much Angel was dealing with.

I can only imagine what was going on in her head but I think a big reason why she got SO angry in this scene is because she finally understands.

And shes ready to kill over it.

1. That's princess of Hell to you, pig."

I have very little to add to this besides that this is badass. I LOVE angry Charlie. i LOVE seeing her pissed off. She has been building up to this. She deserved this moment to look Adam in the eyes and remind him EXACTLY who the fuck hes talking to.

[namjoonscoffeeshop]

Dear Namjoon | 01

✧pairing:Namjoon x reader ✧genre:angst, fluff,smut,slow burn ✧warning(s):explicit language, suggestive content, mature content ✧synopsos;You're sent to live with your father and older brother. only that your older brother is in a band called BTS. you meet jimin's friends and automatically get tangled with one of his band members. you're relationship has to be kept a secret but for how long can you keep it that way?

a/n: when I first started writing Dear Namjoon I was writing short chapters :DDD

index | next

"United Airlines flight 880 to Miami is now boarding" you hear the women call over the intercom

"mom, can't i just go with you. please don't leave me here" you cling to your mothers arm

" y/n, i'm going to miss my flight if you don't let go and board the bus" she says as she tries to get free from your grip

"please, i won't know anyone"

"sweetheart, you'll have your brother ok. listen i need you to let go now. think of this as a new change, you were going to transfer school either way. here your brother will be able to watch over you from the inside ok"

with pleading eyes you cling even harder to her arm "please mom, we aren't even that close" you lie, now your stomping your feet, people are passing by and very obviously judging you but that doesn't fucking matter. how can she send me to live with my dad who barely knows  me. ok my brother and me have a good relationship but that doesn't mean she can send me there.

"This is the final boarding call for United Airlines flight 880 to Miami"  your mom looks at her watch

"that's enough with your tantrum park y/n, let go right now and board the bus" she raises her voice

I let go of her arm and point at her "FINE BUT DON'T CALL ME, YOU HEAR ME? I DON'T WANNA HEAR FROM YOU"

she rubs her temple and sighs "y/n, stop ok. i'm sorry i can't bring you with me" picking up my bag and suitcase   i walk to the bus

"i'll call you tomorrow ok!" my mom yells as i walk away

fuck i can't just walk away i've been attached to this women ever since i was born, turning around i drop my luggage once more and run to hug my mom one last time "don't forget ok" tears stream down my cheeks

"you're such a baby, i will call you ok. love you"

"love you too mom" the bus honks and i rush to grab my bag. entering the bus i sit in the only available seat by the window

"WHEN YOU ARRIVE WAIT FOR YOUR DAD, DON'T TALK TO STRANGERS"  she yells as me, the bus pulls out and drives out into the road, she waves at you.

her imagine becomes hazy the farther the bus drives.

"this isn't fair, why couldn't i just go with her" you whisper, not wanting to get people's attention more than you already did

I was on my way to my dad's house, he lived in seoul. my parents divorced when i was younger. I have a older brother by one year, his name is park jimin. When our parents divorced my dad said he wasn't capable of taking care of a girl so he asked for my brother instead. he didn't even give me a chance, literally told the judge he didn't care if i stayed with my mom.

yeah it's a bitchy thing to do but at least he still sent me letters on my birthday along with gifts. I would occasionally see him on jimin's birthday. but our relationship was awkward, my dad is a business man. our relationship was like a business partnership, he would give me an envelope with money on birthdays and holidays. tell me i'm growing up well, good job and thats it. like damn dude at least hug me but no even in pictures he would be far from me.

my mom said he's always been an awkward person but dude i'm literally your offspring, how hard can it be.  he looks intimidating as fuck though....so i also maybe kinda don't talk much to him either

i think we both need help...mostly him.

I have a good relationship with my brother, we got separated when i was five and he was six. my parents wanted us to be able to rely on each other even if we didn't live together. to not be strangers.

jimin would come over all the time, my father is always busy so he never wanted me to go and stay at their place. only on holidays will we all get together, our parents ended on a good note so we sometimes all spend holidays together but it became rare when they found out me and jimin thought there was a chance of them getting back together. they didn't want us to have that false hope and maybe ruin our childhood.

my mom got a promotion and was sent overseas but she said i don't know enough english so it would be better to finish school here, and then i can decide to go overseas or stay here. it's bullshit she didn't wanna take me with her. i know enough english, maybe even more than her.

jimin told me my dad was talking about getting to know me better, and i think that's where this all came from.

----

the bus drive took all night, i arrived around five o'clock. it's fucking cold, and guess what no fucking sight of my beloved dad who apparently want's to get to know me. i thought since he was a business man he'd be punctual, i guess i once again had high expectations.

crossing my arms, i lean against he wall as i wait for someone to come.

it took twenty minutes till i finally see some fancy car pull into the parking lot, i just knew it was him. his business had become so successful when i turned ten. i remember he sent me a letter and gift that day.

i stopped writing back at the age of seven, i realized that if everything he wrote was real. he'd actually show up and pick me up for a weekend or something. not send a fucking stuffed bear.

I wasn't wrong, my old man steps out of his car and fixes his suit. he looks around, looking for me.

i chuckled "does he even know how i look" shaking my head i walk towards the obviously lost man

stopping in front of him he looks at me and gives me a awkward smile "hi y/n"

"hi..dad" there is this relief he feels as i call him dad.

but honestly i think he's dumb, the word dad. it really means nothing to me. shit, girls call their boyfriends daddy as they get fucked.

the word dad is overrated.

if me calling him dad means so much, he should've been here when i was a kid and it was actually cute to hear your daughter yell out dad and run to you, hoping to be picked up and showered with kisses.

this whole 'get to know you is just bullshit. bullshit on a fucking stick'

"uh...how have you been?" he breaks the silence, as we awkwardly stood there. people passed by us.

"good, do you mind if we go? it's uh..cold"

"oh, yes sure let's go" he extends his hand out. i raise my eyebrow in confusion as i stare at his hand and him

"oh..i'll carry your suitcase "

"oh" shit i thought he wanted me to hold his hand, giving him my suitcase, he starts to walk to his car with me behind him

he opens the door for me to get in the car. putting my suitcase in the trunk

"sorry i was late" he says as you both buckle your seatbelts

"don't worry about it, it's fine"

he just nods, starting the engine

"i thought jimin would come"

"oh..yeah he was going to. but i um, i was already coming late"

"right..it's fine"

the rest of the car ride was quiet. i would occasionally steal glances of my dad, but he was only looking out into the road.

----

as he parked the car, outside the huge house. I see a boy run out the front door. and it's no other than my older idiot brother, park jimin. not waiting for my dad to open the door for me, i push the door open and get out. i haven't seen him since new years, running towards me with his arms wide open our body's crash into each other.

his arms wrap around me, as he lifts me off the ground. spinning me around "my adorable little sister is finally here" he showers me with kisses. my eyes tear up again. even if we talked all the time, it's way better this way.

"ok ok you are making me nauseous" i laugh

putting me down he cups my face "let me look at you, i haven't seen you since new years. beautiful as always" he smiles, making his eyes disappear. 

reaching up to his hair i tug on a long strand "back to black huh"

pushing my hand away he laughs "yeah, i know you like my hair black"

"ohh so it was all for me huh"

"anything for you" he winks

we both turn around the sound of the trunk closing

"it's cold so maybe we should head inside" he says, looking at you

nodding you grab your bag, closing the door.

"dad got your room fixed, mom told him everything you liked so you can feel at home" he smiles, he throws his arm over your shoulder guiding you to the house.

you glance over your shoulder. finding your dad looking up, taking a deep breathe in as he looks back to you guys. your eyes make contact before you look forward again. listening jimin.

"here's your room" your dad turns the door knob. the color to the room is periwinkle and lavender color mixed together just like your room back home.

the room was bigger compared to the one back home. "we also got someone to buy you clothes" he says as he places your suitcase by your bed

"your uniform is already hanging in your closet. tomorrow will be your first day"  clasping his hands together he looks at you "any questions"

jimin slaps his forehead at the awkwardness from his dad, your dad glances at  the both of you.

you look around the room "thank you dad, it looks great. i think i have everything" he nods

"you must be tired so um..i'll go and let you catch up with jimin" he walks pass you both and smiles closing the door behind him.

you cross your arms and look at jimin with your eyebrow raised

"give him a chance, he's trying. he was nervous all this time, getting everything ready for you"

"11 years late" you place your bag on the desk, pulling the chair out to sit

"y/n please, he regrets not getting to know you. give him a chance ok" he kneels down in front of you taking your hands in his 

you look around the room "fine..it looks like he thought of everything" you chuckle

"sis you have no idea, look" he gets up walking to a cabinet, opening it he takes out a bin filled with pads tampons

covering your mouth as you laugh 

"mom told him everything and he especially asked about this, something about him not wanting you to struggle about anything" he shrugs putting the stuff back

you get up opening the closet "who got all the clothes then?"

"oh mom send a list of stuff to his secretary and she got everything for you. even your undergarments. she also came and fixed everything"

you nod "he's trying isn't he"

"he truly is"

letting out a sigh you rub your temples

jimin pulls you into a hug "you don't know how much i've always wanted you to live with us again. my room is right next to yours. tell me if you need anything" kissing your forehead he says he gots to go do something and leaves you alone in your new room

you look around and see that he truly got everything.

  "i should get some sleep..i'm tired" you open your suitcase, taking out your pajamas.

getting into bed you realize it's the same mattress your mom had gotten for you

"fine dad...lets see if you can make up for those lost years" saying that left a bitter taste in your mouth

[illfoandillfie]

Hey hope you are well! For the bday blurbs I would loove a little origin story of your 'Rogers housekeeper' blurb, like when and how were professional lines first crossed.. 👀🔥

this was a lot of fun to revist! the original houskeeper blurb can be found here. part 2 is below the cut. I did write it over about 3 days because work got in the way so hopefully it's mostly coherent lmao

warnings: boss x employee relationship, p in v sex, lots of smoochin, condom use, drinking. thats about it. this one is a bit softer, a bit less explicit than my last few have been.

It wasn’t until after you’d accepted the job that you found out Roger was recently divorced. You’d assumed (not totally incorrectly) that it was his work situation that convinced him to hire help. Extended periods of travel did factor into his decision but, as you found out, it was the divorce that really made up his mind. Which was understandable but also made you a little unsure. Roger Taylor had a reputation after all. He’d always been portrayed as a something of a rock and roll rogue, a bit of a flirt and a fan of excess. And it made you question things a bit. Not just about how much damage he and his friends might do to his property during one of his bands wild parties, but also about how it’d be to work with him. Would he be polite or should you prepare yourself to rebuff his advances?  

Luckily Roger soon put those worries to rest. He was charming, yes, and very personable, but never indecent. Your first few days were spent largely with Roger as he showed you around and made you familiar with everything he thought you’d need to know, but not once did he make you feel uncomfortable. A couple of times you felt him watching you as you worked or made yourself tea, but you figured he was just sizing up the new hire and there was nothing more to it. But, you did feel like it gave you permission to glance his way once or twice.  

As the year went on you got to know each other quite well. More often than not, if you were on the property Roger wasn’t but you were in frequent contact to update him on any issues and to reassure him that nothing had happened to his cars. When you were both at home it was often with his kids so you became quite used to having important work conversations while being interrupted so you could watch their cartwheels or dive bombs. And before you knew it, the conversations weren’t strictly work related. Roger liked to chat, especially over a cuppa, and was frequently asking you questions about your roommate or family or whatever else came to mind. And somehow, in all of that, the kids took a shine to you too and you became the backup babysitter. So it felt inevitable when Roger began inviting you to dinners and shindigs he hosted.  

It was at one such night that he dropped the bomb. The dinner party had gone on much longer than the final course. Someone called for cocktails and all bets were off. You’d limited yourself to only a few drinks but you’d hung around all the same, enjoying yourself. So when you finally did decide to call it a night, Roger had definitely had enough to drink. He wasn’t falling down drunk but he was laughing very loudly at terribly unfunny things and seemed unsteady on his feet. But still he’d insisted he should walk you out and wait until your cab showed up. Which is how you came to be sitting on his front step with him, chatting as you watched for headlights coming down the road. You’d been saying something that you couldn’t recall even five minutes later when Roger suddenly broke in.   “You’re very pretty.”  From someone else it might have made you self conscious and awkward but instead you laughed, figuring the alcohol had brought out some of that flirtatious charm the magazines were always writing about, “Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself.”   His forehead creased and he frowned a little, “We should hook up sometime. It’d be fun.”  “How much did you drink tonight?”  “That’s doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”  The cab had trundled into view by then so you stood, “It’s a bad idea but I will take it as a compliment.”  “Well good,” he’d pouted, “It was meant as one.”  “Goodnight Roger.”  “G’night Y/N.”  You gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before getting into the cab and driving off.  

A few days later you’d been back to access the damage from the party (thankfully minimal). Of course you’d thought of virtually nothing but Roger’s comments in the intervening days. And never more so than as you were headed inside following the man himself. You’d resolved not to bring it up and at first it seemed as if Roger had decided not to say anything either. But it became clear that he didn’t really remember the conversation. You caught him squinting at you like he was trying to work something out and he said, “Did I wait for a cab with you?”  With a small laugh you nodded, “You insisted on keeping me company.”  “And we talked?” he shook his head, “Sorry, nights a bit fuzzy.”  “Not surprising really. But yes, we did talk. Sitting out the front.” And then, as if you’d lost control of your mouth you said, “You, um, you propositioned me actually.”  “Oh Christ, did I?”  You couldn’t help but laugh at his horrified expression, “Yes but it was done very sweetly.”  “I’m very sorry, Y/N. I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”  “It’s fine Roger, don’t worry about it.”  He was quiet for a moment and then, “Would a raise make you feel better about it or does that come off as.....unseemly?”  “You pay me plenty Roger. And, if I’m being honest, it was a bit flattering. If I’d drunk more I might have said yes. But anyway, this work wont do itself.” You ducked your head, intent on finding your pen, kicking yourself for admitting such a thing.  

Roger said nothing more about it and neither did you but it wasn’t forgotten either. You weren’t sure if it was your imagination, but you felt as if you were catching Roger looking at you more often than normal, his gaze quickly darting away each time. Which was probably because you were looking at him more too. It felt nice to have his attention and part of you definitely wanted more of it. Plus it was hard not to stare when you were thinking so much about what he’d said. If he hadn’t made his suggestion that night, you’d never have guessed he was attracted to you. But now that you knew, you couldn’t help but wonder. It wasn’t like you’d never noticed that he was rather handsome. And as you’d got to know him better, you’d found out he was kind and generous and funny and a little bit cheeky. And you liked that. The rational side of your brain knew you should keep things professional. But, the other part was much more inclined to encourage his advances. And in the end you decided that you would let him take the lead. You’d do what you could to subtly let him know you might possibly be interested – nothing too scandalous, no tight shirts and short skirts, no unnecessary stretching, just little things like offering to make him tea or sitting closer than was strictly necessary. But you refused to be caught trying to get in your bosses pants if he had no intention of allowing it. He had been the one to crack the door when he’d drunkenly talked about making out, he could be the one to open it entirely if that’s what he wanted. Luckily Roger had no qualms about being forward.  

You’d had to stay late at work one evening, preparing for when he’d next be out of the country in a few weeks time. He’d bought dinner and told you it was too late for you to drive home. You’d rubbed your weary eyes and agreed, although you were feeling less and less tired with each anticipatory moment. There was a pause as Roger studied you and then he’d leant in and kissed you. Softly, lingering a little, but nothing excessive.  “You can tell me to fuck off if I’ve read things wrong.”  “You read it right.”  He smiled and caught you in a second kiss, this one deeper, full of held back desire. You wrapped your arms around him, not wanting to stop.   Together you’d fumbled down the corridor to his room and ended up in his bed. It was good too. You were both a little hesitant to start, aware that you were crossing a line, and there were a couple of slightly awkward moments. You’d volunteered to open the condom and then struggled so much he’d taken it back with a chuckle and done it himself. But he’d kissed you when you tried to apologise, entirely flustered. Once you were in the moment though, it was enjoyable. He’d moaned when you’d stroked him which you loved, and then he’d asked you how you liked to be touched, letting you guide his hand until he’d gotten the right pressure and speed. You weren’t sure how much sex Roger had had since his divorce and you’d not had a partner for a while, so you took it slowly. Focusing on kissing and touching and getting close before he pressed into you.   When he did finally start fucking you it was slowly, making you moan and tug on his hair as he’d eased into a rhythm. But before too long Roger became much more urgent, his thrusts speeding up as you begged him not to stop.  

After you’d both finished, Roger had kissed you more. He’d only stopped to get rid of the condom, and then he was back in bed and your mouth was back on his. So it took quite a while the reasonable part of your brain to wake up. And when it did all it could do was worry about what would happen next, with Roger and with your job. But before you could voice any concerns, Roger spoke.  “That was really good, right?” When you agreed he’d hastilly added, “Just so you know, this has absolutely no bearing on your job. I’d have wanted to kiss you even if you weren’t working for me. Probably would have a bit faster if you weren’t. Um, but, yeah. I don’t want to worrying that you have to keep sleeping with me to keep your job. That’s not what this is at all. In fact if you think you can’t work here anymore then I understand, and I’ll write you a good reference to find a new job and all that. Or if you’d rather keep the job and never do this again-”  You cut him off, almost knocking his head into the wall in your eagerness to kiss him again.   “Oh, okay,” he murmured against your lips, pulling you in tight. 

[aromanticgarbage]

If Joji decides to retire this year, do you think your obsession with him will end? Or would you still follow all his old stuff and that will keep you going?

He retired from social media already, youtube as well and he won't be coming back to any of that, let's be honest. All is left is his music, and I personally feel like he's over it. Not only the tiring/ repetitive touring, but the set path of the music industry where you don't just create stuff for fun but it's expected of you every few years> tour > rinse and repeat.

Just trying to have a convo, we like to hear your opinions :)

First of all, I don't think that he is going to retire any time soon? The man has been making music nonstop (comedic or not) since he was a preteen AND at this point in his life its his main source of income. He has talked in several interviews in 2018 and then again in 2020 about having philanthropic goals, wanting to help in the medical field and stuff but not having the funds for it yet (x). Assuming that he still has those goals and he hasnt suddenly gotten bored of music (a thing he has loved since he was a kid) i just cant see him suddenly retiring. There's a chance that maybe he wont keep up with his "new album every two years" pattern but i personally wouldn't be mad about that. I know that people love to complain about him not dropping music often enough but from my perspective, two years isn't a long time to wait for a new album. I listen to Fiona Apple too and she drops new music once every eight years. I listen to bands who broke up decades ago and bands whose main vocalists committed suicide before i was even born. Waiting doesn't mean anything to me. Also im so late to the party, i have a literal decade of his old and more recent content to get through (music, comedy, all of it).

Second of all, my obsession with him will fade away eventually either way !!! Ive been obsessed with many things (media, shows, musicals, music artists etcetera etcetera) over the years, i know how this works. Last year i was listening to the 2006 cast recording of company the musical starring Raúl Esparza everyday Non Stop. At some point i moved on to other things. Doesn't mean that i don't still smile whenever a song from this musical makes its way onto my spotify queue, or whenever a new photo of Raúl gets posted online. Unless something bad happens that sours the experience for me (most notable example: harry p*tter) i always think fondly of my past hyperfixations. Plus I genuinely love Joji's music. Im not in it just for his cute face !!! I will probably always have a soft spot for these songs even if (emphasis on if) he drops off the face of the earth and never releases anything ever again.

When it comes to his retirement from social media (permanent or temporary) all i honestly have to say about it is this: GOOD for him. Instagram is hell. Twitter is a fucking cesspool that has given me a headache every single one of the five (5) times ive dared to try and use it. If you use twitter routinely, my trust on your character automatically lessens, sorry. And since i only ever unfollow artists on insta for uploading TOO often I don't really have an issue with his inactivity. I wasn't a fan of his when he was still active on his socials, I don't have the experience necessary to miss this. I'm enjoying his old posts and that's good enough for me.

When it comes to youtube, he is definitely never going back to filthy frank that one is a fact and people who act like he would even want to are delusional. Sorry. Nonetheless, Plummcorp is a thing that has been going on for a while now, and even tho personally i haven't really gotten into it, Joji's involvement in it is undeniable. We will probably never know how involved in it he actually is and he will most definitely never show his face on that channel. Still, he is back on youtube in a way and thats also a fact. Even if he's keeping things lowkey (as is his right).

And to go back to the music !!! The tours he is probably really tired of, that one i feel like it's true. A lot of artists probably are, travelling around for months on end can't be easy. I remember Mitski being particularly open about how shitty they made her feel. There was also this old interview where he explicitly said that he is not cut out for the tour life, ("i like to sleep and i like to be alone a lot" x ). That was very early in his career (2017). And taking the fact that he had to cancel some of his shows last year for medical reasons, its important to take into account the fact that his health problems don't make any of this easier for him. I have no way of knowing what his opinion is on the music industry but hes been working on music for years now (even before he really started his solo career) and it was his literal childhood dream to work in this industry. He probably knew how it works before he got into it fulltime.

Tldr: joji can do whatever he wants forever. Im okay either way.

Anyway those have been my two cents !!! Thank you for your questions, they were very interesting.

[yuukei-yikes]

ok SO. usamerican here. haruka is totally the kid who lives in the art teachers room. let’s assume they go to a high school that doesn’t give you a 15 minute lunch where you can only be in the cafeteria or, god forbid, have an assigned table/seat. haruka eats his lunch in the art room bc he spends all four years working toward ap art and it’s his faaaaave class even when sometimes the teacher tells him his art is too anime bc he drew a person. takane sits on the floor somewhere until tateyama is like uh. bc of health concerns you need to sit at a table. you can eat in my room i guess i don’t really go anywhere. so she sits in there and haruka sometimes eats in there too bc “health reasons” (even tho he’s already in a room with a teacher). takane does NO extracurriculars bc that takes so much energy and socialization. shintaro loves music but he refuses to associate with the band kids out of false superiority so he doesn’t take the class and god forbid he even CONSIDER marching band. ayano hangs out with haruka sometimes in the art room when they become friends (and takane comes along too once ayano is her excuse) and sometimes drags shintaro, but shintaro definitely eats on the floor in some remote hallway. momo kind of tries out every class and all the extracurricular teachers adore her but her core subjects are sooo frustrated. but she’s that kid who shows up to the classroom and has a whole convo with the teacher while everyone’s like who is this why isn’t she in class (she’s in study hall and left to “pee”). seto loves home ec and bio and is in key club and is helping mary and the bio teacher to set up a garden behind the school. everyone thinks he’s the guy inside the mascot costume (it’s a secret at a lot of schools) but it’s actually kano, who vapes in the bathroom and always takes 20 minutes to “pee” and took band for his art extra curricular and eats in the band hallway. kido TOTALLY ENDS UP IN MARCHING BAND SOMEHOW wearing the tall hat and drenched in sweat and momo who’s now a cheerleader is like OMGGGGGG beautiful… while kano as the mascot keeps posing with shintaro in the bleachers (it’s a mandatory pep rally and shintaro already got caught trying to skip it by hiding in the bathroom) and he’s like WHY WONT IT LEAVE ME ALONE OH MY GOD YEARBOOK STOP TAKINH PICS OF ME oh my god wait who’s in yearbook. hmmmmm momo definitelt is but she can’t be taking pics bc she’s also a cheerleader. HARUKA. HARUKA TAKES PHOTOS FOR THE YEARBOOK AND HES LIKE YAYYY SHINTARO SMILE while kano keeps trying to high five him

THIS IS SO FUNNY I AM SO OBSESSED WITH MARCHING BAND KIDO AND CHEERLEADER MOMO THATS HILARIOUS also kano in the mascot costume. god. THATS SO FUNNY also takane wouldn't need an excuse to go see haruka theyre bestfriends OKAY!?!?!?! this is all so funny

[2btheanswertothequestion]

Tagged by @stevethehairington 🖤

RULES:

Post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post.

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in or just post.

WIPS:

High school reunion

Breathless (Buckingham, Steddie)

(medieval?) outlaws

Cheating Douchebag notfic

fleabag_ask_steddie_angst

SNIPPET:

High school reunion (long, but this is the entire last bit I wrote for it)

Chrissy jerked upright.

"Oh my gosh," she said, wide eyes trained on something behind Eddie and Jeff.

They turned just in time to see Steve Harrington walk in, fashionably late, with a beautiful woman on his arm.

Contrasting the majority of their once-popular peers, Steve wasn't looking washed up or miserable – he looked as amazing as he had in his youth. That fact filled Eddie with as much ire as it did relief. Like most of the men, Steve was wearing informal attire, but he wore it better, the silver suit and indigo shirt fitting his body so well they had to be bespoke. The way he carried himself had evolved from obnoxious cocksureness to poised and mature confidence. And, of course, the hair.

It was shameful, but Eddie stared. Fortunately, he wasn't the only one – everyone stole at least a glance of their former ruler. Yes, even ten years later, King Steve was the center of the room. He seemed to barely notice it, too preoccupied by his companion. She was almost as tall as he, and the cut of her emerald jumpsuit elongated her legs while her pixie cut displayed an elegant neck. They resembled a pair of super models.

"What's he doing here?" Jeff murmured. "He didn't graduate with us."

"I think his… wife? I think she did," Chrissy said. "I recognize her."

"She's the girl he drove to school every day the year after he graduated," Eddie said.

Chrissy gasped.

"That's right!" she hissed excitedly, thankfully not questioning why the fuck Eddie knew that (he still cringed at himself). "She was in band? What was her name… Roxy? Roslyn?" She frowned and shook her head. "Anyway, everyone was gossiping about them."

"Everyone?"

Chrissy awarded him the kindest eyeroll of his life. "Everyone in my circle. No one knew what their deal was – they seemed close, but he dated other people and she didn't date at all. It started after he and Nancy broke up, and… I guess she was waiting for him to notice her like that." Her gaze followed them as they made their way forth, making pleasantries with the brave souls who dared to approach them. "Seems like she got him in the end."

Chrissy sighed dreamily, like it was the height of romance. Eddie was inclined to agree. After being dumped and nearly dethroned, the most handsome boy in town befriended this ugly duckling who helped nurse his wounds and his heart. Staying by his side, a loyal friend even when he courted others. Quietly hoping he would open his eyes to what was in front of him all along. And at last, her patience was rewarded, and he realized it was her he wanted.

A clichéd, juvenile, teenage dream. A fucking fairytale. But a romantic one.

"They're a good fit, aren't they?" Chrissy mused.

"You think?" Jeff said.

"Yeah. He's always been gorgeous and she's stunning." She rested her chin on her palm, drifting away with a smile. "She looks kinda tough. I bet they're a total power couple."

"No Pressure" tag list: @spinmewriteround, @madaboutmunson, @metalhoops, @loveinhawkins, @anything-thats-rock-and-roll

[lookingforhappy]

gonna follow how @/babblingbear09 formatted it

S1

its kinda hard to find anything for s1 bc its the establishing season so theres not a lot that needs changing tbh.

i think there was one plot inconsistency but i cant remember rn. ill update if i can.

honestly i would have loved for Five to have been there when the basement shit was going down. like idk if i want him to do anything but like here is the person who traps him in the apocalypse (for selfish reasons too) & yet they are the sibling you trusted the most, who gave you the most comfort throughout ur childhood & whose book helped to orient you when you were hurting & lost. like thats an insane situation that i would have loved to see play out.

also related to the basement - i would have loved to see Viktor have a memory related to Five while trashing the house. like i dont care if it was positive or negative, or just his absence. i want to know where Five stood with Viktor in that moment.

Bens room. i want to see bens room sooo bad. & all the grief attached to it.

S2 (pretty much everything @/number5theboy has said, tho i only noticed half of these problems when they posted abt them so)

Hazel deserved a better conclusion & overall effect on the story. following him as a strong supporting character for an entire season & then killing him to tie up loose ends just doesn't cut it. + by killing Agnes & Hazel, having the main cast forget him after 2 brief mentions regarding plot details, then reviving The Handler pretty much counteracted every one of Hazel's accomplishments & made his character ultimately pointless.

(already said this, & ik u saw it but yeah, just replace Elliott with Hazel &/or Agnes & we'd be golden)

Despite being the MVP of S2 Five doesn't accomplish much. he's barely involved in the actual stopping of the apocalypse. in the nuclear apocalypse timeline we know that the Hargreeves all meet & team up & band together against the apocalypse without him. Diego is the one who finds out who causes the apocalypse & Ben is the one who prevents it.

Paradox Psychosis sure is something. im not a fan of toilet humour. there is something to the whole "you will go insane & try to kill your doppelganger bc the universe can only cope with one of you" plotline but toilet humour misses the mark.

also ditto to @/babblingbear09 bc literally just wait 5 minutes to pick the briefcase up off the ground & boom Kennedy's dead u can leave for 2019 & the timeline is saved.

REGINALDS PLAN. HOLY FUCK DID THEY MESS HIM UP. S1 Reg wants to stop the 2019 apocalypse (unclear if he knows its Viktor) & is willing to kill himself to accomplish that. S2 Reginald could not give less of a shit about the apocalypse & more or less encourages Five to let it happen.

(ik ur asking abt s2 but compare this to s3 where Reg very much wants to be alive & with his resurrected wife. also how his plan shifted from "stop the apocalypse" to "get into oblivion & hit restart on the universe"??)

Allison's reaction to seeing Viktor again after he SLIT HER THROAT is handwaved & never spoken abt again.

Allison & Klaus contributed nothing to the plot at all.

the ISB is a plot breaker. they couldve used it to pinpoint where & when Five went in S1 & got him instantly. like the commish is supposed to be both terrifyingly powerful & also laughably inefficient. this just makes them stupid.

everyone forgets that Patch ever existed. like where is her rabbits foot Diego??

the himbofication of Diego & Luther. Diego is an angry little guy & 60s electric shocks & group therapies can only do so much. Luther is more than stupid plans & loving his sister. They're both incredibly sensitive & they react to that thru shielding themselves with anger and self importance.

FIVE IS SO HORRIBLY INJURED BY THE END OF THIS. like the tracker cut on his arm, the stitches on his shoulder, the shrapnel wound, scratches on his neck (chimps are violent little bastards), getting beaten half to death by the Swede, punched & kicked multiple times, a chimney falls on him, yet another fight with Lila & a skillet to the head. Diego too actually.

im sure theres more but this is already a LOT

What do you guys hate about S1-S2 of TUA and what do you think could have made things better?

Aka, I’m taking your suggestions and placing them in Butterfly effect :)

[watchmegetobsessed]

Floating Through Space - Harry Styles

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

pairing: Harry x Famous!Reader

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

word count: 25.7k

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t wear men’s pants.”

“You’d look better in a dress.”

“Why do you look like a guy?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oi, can I ask for one?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not even once,” you shake your head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

They stay silent and you know you were right.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you home already?”

“Yes, just arrived.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“See?” she smiles warmly.

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

“Harry Styles.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You and Harry?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you too.”

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

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

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

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

“Well, thank you. Back at you.”

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

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

“What are your concerns exactly?” Jeff questions.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, everything went fine.”

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

However, Harry can see right through you.

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You guys still talk?”

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

“You miss being with the band?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing pissed you off lately?”

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

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

“It’s… a long story.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re right,” you nod smiling.

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know how to do that.”

“You don’t know how not to stress?”

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

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

“Cigarettes? I put it down in 2015.”

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

“What? Now?” you ask with wide eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you gonna smoke?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did he ever stop?”

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you want to go for a swim?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” you chuckle.

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

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

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

“Yeah? You like it?” he smirks.

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

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

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

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

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

“Which one?”

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

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

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

“Why not?”

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

“What was the name of the song?”

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

“Can I ask why you left your parents?”

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

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

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

“No,” you shake your head.

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

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

“Woah, that sounds really tough.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Damn right,” he smirks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That fucking asshole dragged my name again!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What did he do this time?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shoot it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re a fan?”

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

“You need to perform it for me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You alright?” Harry softly asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” you admit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kind of.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m meeting with Sarah and Mitch for dinner tonight, thought you’d like to join us.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude on your time with your friends, I feel like you’ve been spending all your time with me.”

“But I like spending time with you,” he chuckles softly, a blush making its way to your cheeks at his words.

“Are you sure you want me there? What about Sarah and Mitch? I crashed your last meeting with them as well.”

“You didn’t crash anything, Y/N. And I’m positive I want you there, I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t. And just so you know, Sarah asked if you’d be joining us, so I assume they wouldn’t mind it either.”

“Oh, well, okay then. Send me the time and place.”

“Wonderful!” he beams, his enthusiasm making your chest warm.

By the time you arrive home he has already texted you the details and you have just one hour to spare before you have to head out. You opt for a quick shower and an outfit change, switching up your ripped mom jeans and simple t-shirt to one of your favorite jumpsuits. It’s a little baggy, but the waist is cinched in with an inbuilt corset, giving the whole fit a very interesting twist.

Arriving at the restaurant Harry has texted you the address of, the waiter escorts you to the terrace at the back that’s a lot more secluded and you feel yourself relaxing that you probably won’t get photographed. Harry is the only one who is already at the table, sitting with his eyes fixed on his phone, but he immediately puts it aside when he sees you approaching, a wide smile stretching across his face.

“Hey! You look amazing!” he greets you pulling you into a quick hug.

“Thank you,” you smile shyly. He is wearing a pair of brown slacks, a simple white shirt tucked into it, a knitted cardigan thrown on, a typical Harry outfit. “And thanks for the invite,” you add as you take the seat next to him, assuming Sarah and Mitch would like to sit next to each other.

“Don’t even mention it. We’re friends, it’s really nothing. I’m glad you could make it.”

The way he called you friends is giving you mixed feelings. Part of you is happily jumping up and down at the fact that he considers you as a friend, given how you don’t have many of those. It’s been hard opening up to anyone since you’ve made a name for yourself, you’ve ran into occasions a lot when people wanted more than just your friendship from you and it made you rather closed off when it comes to making friends.

On the other hand, you can’t help but feel a little disappointed. Is that all you are? Just friends? More importantly, is that all you want to be, or more?

Sarah and Mitch arrive soon after, joining you at the table and the waiter takes the orders before leaving the four of you alone. It seems like they genuinely like it that you’ve joined, so you can enjoy the evening a little more relieved.

Sipping on some amazing wine, you eat and talk and you feel like you’ve known these people your whole life. You especially like Sarah, she is so open-minded and funny and you think they make a great couple with Mitch who is obviously more closed off, but it’s obvious how much he worships his girlfriend.

Sometime in the evening, when you’ve already had two glasses of Chardonnay and you’re feeling a lot more relaxed and comfortable, you move closer to Harry without even noticing, leaning against him gently and his hand rests on your knee, giving it a soft squeeze under the table, making you want to move even closer to him to feel more of his touch, to get more of him.

Neither Sarah, nor Mitch questions the two of you being a little cozier and you’re thankful for the safe and stressfree environment they are providing, not making you overthink what you do, just letting you enjoy the moment.

At the end of the evening, you can’t shake the thought that you don’t want to say goodbye to Harry just yet. He pays for everyone’s dinner, leaving a generous tip for the waiter and you stay back at the table while Sarah runs out to the restroom and Mitch takes a quick call from his father, leaving you alone with Harry. His hand is still resting on your leg, a little farther up, but still in a very safe zone in the middle of your thigh.

Turning to face him your eyes meet his, his green irises glistening in the soft lighting and he looks so beautiful, you just want to kiss him again.

“Do you have plans after this?” you find yourself asking.

“Not that I know of.”

“Do you want to come over to my place?”

“That sounds like a nice plan,” he smiles at you warmly and you just know that if you weren’t out in the public, he would have leant in for a kiss and you wouldn’t have stopped him.

When Sarah and Mitch return all four of you head out and they don’t question when you follow Harry to his car. They say goodbye and Sarah makes you promise to join them some other time too and you happily say yes to the invitation.

Not much is being said on the way back to your place, he plays some music quietly as you navigate him through the streets.  

“Welcome to mi casa,” you smile as you key the two of you into your apartment you’ve been living in for the past few years.

It’s nothing luxurious, just a tad bit bigger than what one person would need as a home. You would have been fine living in your previous home you lived in before you’ve gained fame, but you needed a much bigger closet so you were forced to move. It’s a two bedroom apartment with one big bathroom, an open concept kitchen and a spacious living room. And of course, a closet as big as your bedroom. It’s the perfect size and you haven’t even thought about buying a bigger place just because you can, it would be a waste of money and space. The interior is very much vintage with all your mismatched furniture and colorful walls, but you think it’s quite cozy and just the ideal space for you.

“Would you like something to drink?” you ask, walking into the kitchen to get yourself some water.

“Some water would be great, thank you.”

Filling up two glasses you hand him one as you lean against the counter, silently eyeing each other. It should be clear to him that you had intentions with asking him to come over, especially after being your cozy with each other during dinner, but you’re a little lost in what you should or even want to do. You just know you want him close.

He drinks up his water, his eyes meeting your gaze as a small smirk tugs on his cherry lips.

“You want to kiss me,” he states, using the exact same words you used the night when you kissed for the first time.

“I do,” you nod, feeling a little breathless.

“Then do it,” he simply answers, making you smile.

“Cool and respectful, as always,” you grin at him as he moves closer, stopping just a few inches away from you, your feet almost touching. Reaching up his fingers gently caress the side of your face and you feel yourself already melting under his touch.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, a shiver running down your spine at his words. You close your eyes for a moment, giving yourself the chance to pull out of it, but you realize you don’t want that, not even the tiniest bit. Opening your eyes they meet with his gaze before you move closer, closing the distance between you and him, lips meeting in a warm and chaste kiss.

Though it grows a little hungrier, you can tell he is still holding back a little, giving you the chance to stop whenever you want to, but you don’t intend to. Pushing yourself closer to him, your arms curl around his neck as his hands grip your waist, your tongue meeting his as you deepen the kiss and melt into his embrace.

Pulling back you grab his hand and head to the bedroom, going back to kissing him the moment you reach it. You easily slide his cardigan off his broad shoulders, pulling his t-shirt out of his pants before taking it completely off, throwing it somewhere to the side. You smirk against his lips, hands wandering down his naked chest and you can’t push down a moan as you feel the warmth of his chest muscles under your touch.

When you feel him try to blindly figure out how to get you out of your jumpsuit with not much luck and this clears your head for a moment to realize what is about to happen. Pulling back your gaze meets his and he stares back at you with caution, ready to stop whenever you tell him to, but that’s not what made you pull back.

“Harry, I…” “We don’t have to do anything,” he softly tells you, his fingers dancing down the side of your face until they reach your chin and he pulls you in for a delicate and slow kiss.

“I want to,” you whisper. “It’s just that… I want you to know that I’ve never… I’ve never been with a man before.”

Searching in his eyes you look for any sign of what’s going on in his head wishing you could just simply read his thoughts.

“You’ve never been with a man?” he asks, seemingly not as surprised as you expected him to be. You nod, licking your lips, waiting for any kind of reaction, a part of you expecting to be upset, though you know he has no right to be mad at you for any of it. “Do you want me to be the first man?” he then asks, with a loving and warm smile as his hand on your hip pulls you against him playfully.

“Yes.”

“Then help me get you out of this jumpsuit, because I can’t figure it out for my life,” he chuckles making you laugh too.

You show him where the corset opens and then get you out of it with joined forces, finally leaving you standing in just your underwear. Harry’s gaze runs down your body, a look of hunger and passion shining through his green irises as he pulls you close again, kissing you with a lot more vigor this time.

Soon enough, his slacks slip to the floor and you climb to your bed, Harry following closely, climbing on top of you before rejoining your lips. Your knees open up wide for him, allowing him to sink his hips between your thighs, his crotch meeting your heated center, a moan slipping out your lips when you feel his erection rubbing against you through the material of your underwear. He kisses his way down your jawline and neck, gently sucking on the soft skin, peppering kisses along your collarbones before he reaches your chest. He easily unclasps your bra and slips the straps down your arms before getting rid of the barrier that’s been keeping him away from your naked chest.

“Fuck, Y/N, you are so damn beautiful,” he breathes out shakily, before his lips wrap around your right nipple, his hand cupping your other breast. You keep whining and whimpering as you feel his tongue swirl around your nipple before his mouth moves over to the other breast, giving it just the same amount of attention.

He kisses down your stomach, glancing up at you as he hooks his fingers into the elastic of your panties silently asking for your permission to go further, still so respectfully looking out for you. As an answer, you lift your hips up so he can easily slide the material down your legs and throw it to the side.

“Oh fuck!” you moan when his tongue and lips press against your bud, playing with it oh so perfectly, making you shudder. If you didn’t think Harry was perfect, his tongue work is now surely making a statement on that.

With every lick, kiss and suck he pushes you closer to your release that’s nearing in a fast pace like never before. Reaching down you lace your fingers through his chocolate curls, tugging on the lightly, making him moan against your core. You’re not sure how long you’ll last, but you want to cum with him inside you, so you pull him up, lips meeting again as you still taste your own juice on him. It’s heavenly.

Without breaking the kiss you reach down and into his underwear, palming his fully hard cock, earning a satisfied growl when you wrap your hand around him. The feeling is quite unknown, you’ve only once had to face a penis before, it happened back in high school when you were still figuring out what sexuality meant to you. Gave a wobbly and quite short handjob to a guy from the grade above you, never even talked to him again. The experience left a major effect on you, never even got close to being intimate with a man, but being with Harry now is putting everything into a whole new light.

“Do you have a condom?” he mumbles against your lips, clearly just as excited to carry on as you are.

“Yeah,” you nod and let go of him, rolling to the edge of the bed so you can dig into the drawer of your nightstand, successfully finding the little silver packet. Tearing it open you hand it over to Harry and get back to your previous position as you watch him kneeling up, rolling the condom on carefully. Your lips part when your eyes fall on his cock, seeing now how big he really is. Harry catches your eyes and leaning down he kisses you softly.

“Tell me if it hurts and I’ll stop, okay?” he kindly tells you, but you smile at him coyly.

“You might be the first man I’m with, but your dick won’t be the first thing to be inside me,” you answer with a smug smirk and it brings an amused look to his face.

“You are so fucking hot,” he murmurs, pressing his lips against yours in a hard kiss as he settles himself back between your legs.

Though you really tried to sound confident the other moment, you still feel a little nervous about it and Harry senses it right away. Holding himself up on one arm he cups your face in his other, kissing you slowly, taking his time with his lips, as if he is trying to make you forget about everything else but his lips.

“Are you still sure about this?” he softly asks, looking for any sign of hesitation in your eyes, but there’s none.

“Yeah, I want this. I want you,” you nod and reaching down between your bodies, you take him in your hands again, positioning him to your center.

Harry captures your lips in another passionate kiss as he pushes into you slowly, filling you up inch by inch. You gasp at the sensation, feeling a little tight around him, but not in an uncomfortable way.

“You alright?” he asks once he is almost fully in.

“Yeah, go ahead,” you breathe out with a small nod. He pecks your lips and slowly pushes all the way in before he starts to move out and then slide in again, picking up a not too fast but still firm pace with his movements.

You gradually get used to the feeling of him sliding in and out of you, it’s surely a whole different experience than using a dildo or any kind of toy you are used to. The thought that it belongs to him is bringing you a sense of intimacy you haven’t felt in a long time.

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you dig your fingers into his hot skin that’s coated with a thin layer of sweat as he keeps moving, slowly picking up his pace as you both get closer to the endgame.

“Harry, faster, please!” you plead, legs coming to wrap around his waist so he can thrust in deeper, making you go completely nuts from the way your orgasm is already forming in the pit of your tummy.

He obeys without a second thought, slamming into you faster and harder, making you continuously moan his name, the room is filled with moans and panting, the slapping noise of his hips meeting yours.

Harry buries his face into the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking on the soft skin, definitely leaving a mark, but you couldn’t care less. You just grab a handful of his hair, shutting your eyes closed as you feel yourself nearing the end.

“Harry, I’m gonna cum,” you pant, barely hanging on.

Instead of stretching it out and trying to play with you, Harry clearly wants you to combust. Reaching down between your bodies his index and middle fingers find your clit and he starts circling on it, adding that little extra you needed to fall over the edge.

Moaning and whimpering under his massive body, your orgasm washes over you in waves, bringing you such an intense satisfaction you’ve never felt before. He keeps up his thrusting and just a few moments later his movements fall out of his rhythm and mumbling your name over and over again, he gasps as he rides his high while you’re still trying to catch your breath following your own.

With a heaving chest Harry rolls off of you, gets rid of the condom and throws it to the small bin you keep next to your night stand and then lies flat beside you as you both just silently stare up at the ceiling, very much in the best kind of after sex haze.

“How are you feeling?” he then asks, rolling to his side, his hand coming to rest on your bare stomach. Turning your head to the side you crack a smile at him.

“I feel like I’ve just been properly fucked,” you bluntly answer, making him laugh wholeheartedly. Rolling to your side his arm falls to your waist as you scoot closer, your face only a few inches from his. He is so pretty up close, his features never fail to amuse you, hard to believe he is a real human, lying right next to you.

He closes his eyes a little, letting his head sink into the pillow as his fingers delicately dance up and down your side and back. You feel like you owe him to say something, dropping a major detail about yourself in a heated moment.

“I had two girlfriends,” you speak up, his eyes fluttering open to your words. “The first one was when I was eighteen, we dated for almost a year, then I briefly dated a guy, but it was barely just a month. And I had my second girlfriend when I was twenty. We were together for two years.”

“Are you still friends with them?”

“I still talk to the second one. Her name is Mila. We broke up because she moved to Spain for a job for a year and we didn’t want to do long-distance. Then we just… grew apart, but we still talk sometimes. She lives in Atlanta now, she has a girlfriend and she told me that she is planning to propose soon.”

A soft smile tugs on your lips as you talk about her. She was an important person in your life in a time that was truly challenging. Mila supported your dreams, she went to a lot of your concerts and she was the first one you called when you got your record deal even though you weren’t together anymore. She has seen you go from performing in dodgy bars to rocking the stage of arenas.

“Congrats to her,” Harry smiles through tired eyes. Reaching up he tucks your hair behind your ear before leaning closer he envelopes your lips in a soft kiss.

“We really shouldn’t have done this,” you hum, though you can’t wipe the satisfied smile off your lips.

“Why not?”

“Because we work together.”

“So what? We aren’t allowed to like each other?” he smirks cockily.

“You like me?”

“Thought I made that pretty clear,” he chuckles rubbing his eyes. “But yeah, I do like you, Y/N. A lot.”

“I… like you too,” you admit shyly. Leaning in he kisses you again before pulling you to his chest as he lies on his back.

“Can I stay the night or you want to throw me out?” he hums closing his eyes. Chuckling your snuggle to him, making yourself comfortable, enjoying the warmth of his body after so spending so many nights alone in this bed.

“You can stay, but you have to behave.”

“Oh I will behave my best, don’t worry.” A chuckle rumbles through his chest as you both fall silent and soon enough, drift off to sleep.

You wake up tangled in the sheets, but no one else is lying in bed with you. Blinking the sleep out of your eyes you look around and though there’s no sign of Harry in the room you spot his clothes on the floor. That’s when you hear the pots and pans clinking somewhere outside and you smile to yourself. You pull a t-shirt on with a pair of clean panties before heading out, finding Harry in your kitchen, wearing your pink fluffy robe and nothing else as he is making what seems to be pancakes.

“I don’t remember hiring a chef,” you joke walking closer, sliding a hand down his back as you lean against the counter next to the stove.

“Good morning,” he smiles. “I really wanted for you to wake up but I was afraid my growling stomach might wake you up,” he chuckles as he flips the pancakes in the pan with the spatula.

“Found everything you needed?” you ask, walking over the fridge to grab the orange juice.

“Yeah, you have a neatly organized kitchen,” he hums. “Sorry for snooping around though.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Pouring the juice to two glasses you hand one to him which he thanks softly before placing the golden pancakes to the plate on the counter and pours another bunch into the pan.

Sipping on your juice you watch him move around, making breakfast in your robe and you can’t help but smile at the sight of this fine man in your kitchen. Harry catches you eyeing him and he cocks an eyebrow at you.

“What’s gotten you so smiley?” he asks, his voice still a little groggy and husky.

“I just… really want to kiss you,” you shrug placing the glass to the counter.

“I think we are over this whole asking for permission thing,” he smirks, stepping closer he leans down and kisses you gently, tasting like orange juice and something sweet, he has probably ate one of the pancakes. His hand that’s not holding the spatula finds your waist, the t-shirt bunches up on your side as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss before you hear sizzling coming from the stove.

“Whoops, not trying to burn the place down,” he chuckles as he turns to the pan and flips the pancakes. You wrap your arms around his waist and kiss his jawline before stepping away from him to set the table for breakfast.

“Do you have any plans this weekend?” he asks over breakfast.

“I have a meeting with my label on Saturday, but nothing else.”

“I’m having a few friends over Saturday evening, kind of a late Grammy nomination celebration. Want to come over?”

“Yeah, that… sounds good,” you nod smiling.

“I was thinking that maybe you could spend the night and then we can finish recording on Sunday.”

“Alright, I’m in.”

Harry takes a quick shower after breakfast before heading out, promising to call you later and though it still feels a little odd that he says goodbye with a kiss, you very much like this new setup between the two of you.

Friday evening Taylor is over at your place, she loves helping you sort out promo stuff you get sent all the time, especially because you let her take whatever you don’t want, half her closet was meant to be worn by you.

Sitting on the floor with boxes surrounding the both of you, you’re digging through them with a bottle of wine, some 90’s music playing in the background, it’s a nice and relaxing evening.

Your phone lights up with a text on the coffee table and you already know it’s from Harry. You haven’t stopped texting since he left from your place just a few days ago.

Harry: Do you think it’s a look for the Grammy’s?

He attached a photo of himself in all denim, looking very much like 2001 Justin Timberlake at the AMA.

Y/N: Should I match and pull a Britney?

Harry: Is that even a question?!

“Okay, who’s the girl?” Taylor asks, making you tear your eyes away from the phone’s screen.

“Huh?”

“Last time I saw you smiling like this at your phone you were talking to that girl you met at that award show. So who is it this time?”

“It’s… not a girl,” you admit, placing your phone back to the coffee table.

“Oh, did a guy finally manage to sweep you off your feet?” Taylor gives you an amused look, genuinely surprised to hear that this time it’s a guy that has you wrapped around his finger. “What is his name?”

“Harry,” you shortly answer and see her eyes widen.

“Wait, is it… Harry as in Harry Styles?”

“Yeah,” you admit with a soft chuckle.

“Oh my God, I knew I could feel some sexual tension between you two at Jeff’s office!”

“There wasn’t any, what are you talking about?”

“You didn’t see it because you were too busy trying to blow off the duet, but it was radiating from him.” She gives you a look, putting the sweater she’s been examining to the side. “So, how are things? Are you guys an item, or…?”

“We didn’t label anything, he just said he likes me and I like him too. And he… spent the night the other day.”

“Wait, what? Spent the night as in—“

“Yes, we had sex,” you confirm blushing.

“That’s like huge! The first man you’ve been with!”

“I know,” you chuckle.

“How was it?”

“Fucking amazing,” you truthfully admit with a sigh. “I didn’t think it could be this good with a guy. Maybe it’s just because it was with him.”

“He surely looks like a guy that takes good care of his girl. So what’s gonna happen? Are you guys together?”

“I don’t know. He doesn’t seem to care about names and labels, he just likes to do whatever he wants and if I’m being honest it’s kind of refreshing. We are just… enjoying whatever we have.”

“That sounds very liberal,” Taylor chuckles. “But I’m happy for you. You’ve been alone for way too long, I think he might do good to you.”

“I really hope,” you nod with a sigh.

“How is the song writing going?”

“We’re finishing up recording on Sunday. I’ll send it to you when it’s done and we can start all the paperwork and everything.”

“Amazing, you are doing great, Y/N, I’m proud of you,” she smiles and climbing over she wraps you in a tight hug.

“Thanks, Tay,” you smile at her. “Alright, now do you want these lace socks or should I burn them?” you ask holding up a whole pack of them, making her laugh.

Harry said it’s just a chill get together, nothing fancy so you decide to wear a khaki maxi skirt with a shirt tucked into it that was a gift from a fan, your first album’s name embroidered to the front. It’s one of your favorite pieces and you like wearing things your fans make you, gives the whole fit a plus.

Arriving to Harry’s place you spot that there are a few cars already parking on the driveway. You leave your overnight bag in the trunk, grab the bottle of wine you’ve brought and head inside. Unlike every time you’ve been here, the silence is now switched up with soft music and chatters, quite a few people lingering around the house already.

Just as you walk farther inside, Harry appears on the stairs and his face lights up at the sight of you.

“Hey! Did you just arrive?” He jogs down the rest of the stairs and walking up to you he pulls you close for a quick kiss without hesitation.

“Yeah. I know you said not to bring anything, but I hate coming to parties empty handed,” you chuckle softly, holding the wine bottle up.

“Thanks. Have you eaten? Jeff is grilling outside, but help yourself with anything.”

“I’ll be fine, thanks.”

“Sarah and Mitch are already here, but come on, let me introduce you to a few people.”

Harry takes your hand, lacing your fingers together with his. He drops the wine off in the kitchen before joining all the other guests. It’s really not that many people, just about thirty of his close circle. Musicians, people he has worked with and stayed close with, people he has known for long. Everyone seems welcoming and open, many already know who you are and it’s always a good conversation start, so there are not many awkward silences, especially because Harry is always near you, making sure you feel comfortable around his friends and it means a lot to you.

“Hey, everything alright?” Harry asks, when he finds you in the kitchen, refilling your glass. He walks up to you, placing a hand to your waist as he kisses into your hair.

“Yeah, your friends are nice,” you smile at him.

“I know, that’s why they are my friends,” he smirks, so full of himself. “Want to hear something interesting?”

“Always.”

“I was talking to Adam and our song came up and then out of nowhere I referred to you as my girlfriend.”

Seemingly he is testing the waters, trying to see how you react to the title, even a little afraid of what you might say, but it doesn’t scare you.

“Yeah? That’s interesting indeed.”

“Are you okay with it? I wasn’t really thinking about it, just slipped out.”

“It’s fine,” you smile at him softly.

“You don’t have to call me your boyfriend, call me whatever you want. It’s just a habit of mine, I guess,” he explains, popping some nuts into his mouth from the little jar on the counter.

“Alright,” you nod. Harry stares back at you for a moment before a smile stretches across his face and leaning down he kisses you shortly before taking your hand and walking back to the living room with you.

The last guests leave around midnight. After bringing your bag up to his bedroom you start cleaning up while Harry walks out the last couple leaving. You start loading the washer and put away things you’ve cleaned before.

“Oh, thank you for cleaning, but you don’t have to. I can take care of it later.”

“It’s nothing, I want to make myself useful,” you chuckle softly as you start the washer. Harry comes up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he kisses into your neck.

“I have other ideas for that,” he murmurs, his nose nudging the side of your face.

“Yeah? What kind of ideas?” you teasingly ask, closing your eyes when you feel his hand slide under the waist of your skirt, moving down your abdomen until it reaches your core.

“Fun kinds,” he chuckles lowly. His other hand turns your head so his lips could meet yours, you’re still pressed up against him, melting against his chest with your back just right, like you’re two puzzle pieces.

“Fuck,” you breathe out when his fingers wander into your underwear and they start doing their magic. “Harry!” you whine, reacting intensely to his actions.

“I fucking love hearing my name from your pretty mouth,” he growls, kissing you hard before his lips part from yours and he starts bunching up your skirt.

You don’t protest, in fact, you lean forward, grabbing onto the edge of the counter as he pulls down your panties and you hear the zipper of his pants. Glancing over your shoulders you see him pull out a condom from his pocket and you can’t push down a laughter.

“Did you keep that in your pocket all evening?”

“Wanted to be ready when I finally got you all for myself,” he smirks, pulling his cock out of his boxer briefs, rolling on the condom.

His hands come in contact with your hips and ass cheeks, giving them a light squeeze before you feel him lining himself up with you. His palm slides up your back as he pushes into you, both of you moaning at the fulfilling sensation.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” he breathes out as he pushes all the way inside before starting to pull out.

“Go hard, Harry. Please!” you whimper as he starts thrusting into you. Harry lets out a growl and slams into you, making you gasp at the harshness of the movement, but that’s exactly what you wanted.

The kitchen is filled with the noises coming from the washer next to you and the slapping noise of Harry’s hips meeting your ass with every forceful thrust he makes. His ring clad fingers dig into your hips, probably already making them red, but you couldn’t care less. You hold onto the edge of the counter, but then you move one hand to cover his on you, needing to touch him in some kind of way.

Leaning forward Harry kisses your back between your shoulder blades through the thin material of your shirt and you moan his name when he hits the perfect spot inside you.

“Shit, Harry! I’m g-gonna cum!” you gasp, perking your ass up more so he can go as deep as possible.

“Let go for me, baby. Come on!”

“I want to cum with you.”

“Yeah? Then hold on for a little longer, I’m almost there.”

You try your best to keep everything inside you under control, your orgasm is really on the edge and you can only hope he is nearing his end too.

“Harry! Please!”

“Fuck, okay, okay, cum for me! Let me feel you!” he moans and his words bring you the release.

You clench around him, moaning and whimpering and it finally pushes you into his bliss too. His thrusts slow down but they are hard and go deep, helping you ride the last bits of your high.

He pulls out and gets rid of the condom before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you up from your position so he can kiss your lips.

“How about we take a shower while the washer finishes?” he suggests, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Mm, good idea.”

Once the song is fully finished you submit it to your label after an agreement that it should come out through yours, but it wouldn’t be tied to your or Harry’s upcoming album. Everyone seems to love it, Taylor is over the moon when you show her the final version and Jeff is just as happy about it. Having only three more weeks left until the Grammy’s, you send them your request to perform the duet instead of the medley they asked. Their answer comes the next day and they are more than happy to have you premiere your new duet at the show. Everything seems to be on track.

Following a rehearsal for the Grammy performance, you’re staying over at Harry’s, just eating takeout and having a lazy evening after a whole day of working. You’ve put on a new Netflix movie, but every time you look at Harry you feel like his mind is somewhere far away.

“Want to share what’s on your mind?” you ask softly, not wanting to be pushy, you’re just trying to be there for him.

“I’ve just been thinking.”

“About what?” He looks up at you, clearly hesitant whether he should share it with you or not.

“About what you said about your parents.”

“Oh,” is all you can say. Pausing the movie you turn all your attention to him. “What about it?”

“I was just talking to my mom the other day, she is coming here for the Grammy’s and I thought about how you… won’t have your parents there with you.”

“There’s a reason for that.”

“Yeah, but then I thought about how you said you haven’t even let them contact you since then and that maybe they’ve changed their mind about the whole situation. You’ve clearly proved them wrong with building yourself a career, maybe they can now see that what they did was wrong.”

You remain silent, chewing on his words. You’ve been great at not thinking about your parents these past years, it feels weird to have a conversation about them out of nowhere. Harry takes your silence as a warning sign, though that’s not the case.

“You know what? I’m sorry for bringing it up. It’s not really my business, I shouldn’t have brought it up, sorry,” he shakes his head.

“What… would you do if you were in my place?”

Harry looks at you, surprised you are willing to continue the conversation. His hand finds your thigh and he gives it a gentle squeeze.

“I think it might worth a shot to just… contact them. See if they want to maybe get in touch again.”

“And what if they don’t?”

“Then… you know you made the right decision leaving. I know it’s scary, but I think you should take a chance.”

“I’ll… think about it,” you nod shortly.

“Take your time, do whatever you feel comfortable with.” He pulls you into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you get comfortable in his embrace before starting the movie again.

Two weeks before the show you are headed to a fitting with Harry, your matching sets are nearly done, but they needed you to try them on and make sure they fit just perfectly. True to your and Harry’s extravagant fashion, this performance won’t lack any over the top fits either. It was clear from the beginning that you would be matching, but you made it clear that you want to bring it to the level where you’d be wearing the exact same outfit, so now there are two sets of suits in the making, the pattern of the whole two piece is recalling a kind of space vibe, blues, purples and black meeting in the colors with hundreds of embroidered stars and planets littering the fabric with additional crystal stars to make it even more extra. It’s truly one of a kind, especially paired with the sheer, tulle shirt you both will be wearing underneath.

“We look fucking great, babe,” Harry smirks as the two of you stand next to each other, examining yourself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror on the small podium.

“We really do,” you smirk, satisfied with how the performance is coming together. It’s gonna be the perfect way to celebrate both your first Grammy nominations, a huge milestone in your and Harry’s career as well.

Grabbing his phone he quickly takes a picture in the mirror of the two of you, pulling you to his side as you smile into the camera through the mirror. Then you leave him alone on the podium as they are pinning his pants to make it the perfect size. Stepping to your bag you fish your phone out and reading just the first few words of Taylor’s last message she sent about ten minutes ago, you feel all blood rushing out of your face. Tapping on the notification you start reading.

Taylor: Please don’t lose your head, but we are dealing with this.

She attached several articles and you start digging through them.

“Is Harry Styles dating his new duet partner?”

“Harry Styles cozied up with Y/N Y/L/N at dinner with friends.”

“Can we expect some hot make out sessions at the Grammy’s from Harry and his new beau?”

And then there’s the absolute worst.

“Is Y/N Y/L/N going to take Harry Styles to court too?”

“Shit, shit, shit,” you mumble under your breath, vigorously typing back to Taylor to take them down. Two pictures have been leaked from the time you had dinner with Sarah and Mitch, it’s so odd because it’s been weeks since then, where were these pictures all along? Not that it matters, all you want is for them to be gone.

Against your better judgment, you go online and check your social media even though you know you shouldn’t snoop around now that it’s out there. No surprise, you and Harry are trending, but the reactions are very much mixed.

The impact of your case with Jordan is still major. It doesn’t matter that you won, people are still questioning whether he said the truth or not and now they are afraid you might drag Harry down just like you did with Jordan. That you are just trying to use his fame to get more attention and then ruin his career, making a victim out of yourself again, because apparently that’s what you’ve been doing.

You’re not only being dragged, but all of a sudden, nothing is about the music and the art you are making, people just want to know if you’re fucking Harry Styles or not. A lot of the times you’re not even named, only referred to Harry’s new lover or what’s worse, his hookup. You’ve lost all the credit you worked so hard for and for what? Because you dared to have dinner with a man?

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Harry asks walking up to you. Your eyes snap up at him and he immediately sees the shock and anger in them, setting panic in him as well. “What is it?”

“The fucking… pictures,” you hiss handing him your phone so he can see the articles for himself. He scrolls through them with furrowed eyebrows, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip before handing the phone back once he has gotten to the end of it.

“Let’s finish this up and head home, okay? We’ll figure it all out.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and you nod, trying your best to keep your anger at bay while the designers finish up on the outfits.

An hour later you walk into your place, talking on the phone with Taylor, discussing the situation though there’s not much you can do at this point. It’s all out, the pictures can’t be taken down. She suggests to just keep quiet for now, she’ll call Jeff to see what could be done as damage control.

Throwing your phone to the bed you feel your whole body shaking from the anger, it’s agonizing to know there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine. We’ll figure it out,” Harry speaks up, trying his best to calm you down, but it’s not really working this time.

“Stop saying it, you don’t know that for sure. I can’t believe this bullshit is happening all over again,” you breathe out shaking your head.

“Again?”

“Yes! I’m being fucking dragged for something I shouldn’t be.”

“People will always have controversial opinion on everything, you can’t get them all to like you.”

“It’s not about liking, Harry!” you snap. “I couldn’t give a damn about people liking me, but they discredit my work. Have you read those articles? I’m seen with a man and suddenly, I’m not even seen as an artist anymore. I’m not even my own person in some of them, just a girl who is linked to you. How is that fair?” “It’s not, but stressing yourself about it until you’re sick is not gonna help anything,” he retorts in a firm voice.

“So I should just sit around and so nothing while watching all my work go to shit?”

“Nothing is going to shit! This is how it goes, there’s always something people talk about but they will forget about it in a week. That doesn’t take anything away from what you’ve proved through your career.”

“Now that’s a lie. Because if they did forget about things in a week, they wouldn’t be bringing up the whole Jordan thing now. I dared to stand up for myself against a man and look where it took me to! I’m the drama queen, the lying bitch who likes to ruin men for apparently no reason and they see me as a threat when it comes to you too. People are talking about how I’ll take you to court as well, they think I’m just using you even though they know nothing about me! And the worst part is that it wouldn’t be like this if I weren’t a woman. Whatever happens, however we react to the situation, it will never have the same effect on your career than it will have on mine.”

“So what, you’ll just live your life without ever doing anything that’s gonna upset people? There will always be someone who’ll judge whatever you do, you can’t do anything about that and if you let them get to you now, they’ll know they can mess with you easily.”

“So I’m just supposed to ignore everything? And not do a single thing about it? It’s easy for you, you’ll walk away from this without a scratch on your name, because you are a white man who can do no wrong in the eyes of the world.”

“Okay, now you are being mean for no reason.”

“I’m telling you the truth,” you retort. “And you know what else is part of the truth? That I’m not even having it the worse. There are women who are even more targeted because of their religion, their skin color, their nationality or sexuality and people don’t even realize how hard it is for any of us. I’m sick of the injustice we have to live with just because of our gender!”

“I do acknowledge the problem on hand, I’m aware of it and I’m all for doing against it, but we are not gonna solve it instantly, it’s a long process. Sometimes we just have to pull back a little, be smart about things.”

“They will never stop about this,” you shake your head, stubbornly clinging onto your opinion. “I won’t be seen as a serious artist anymore, just some girl who was linked to you. It’s fucking done, over.”

“Y/N, what are you trying to say?” Harry asks with caution.

“Exactly what you are thinking about,” you reply with a bitter laugh. “I can’t be a respected artist if I’m with you.”

“That’s not true. It will die down, they will see that you are more than just who you’re dating and everything will be fine.”

“What’s not fair is that I have to work for it to be fine while you are still the same artist you were before it all blew up. Don’t you think it’s unfair?” you call him out and part of you knows you’re being mean and unnecessarily rude to him, but you just can’t control it any longer. You need to let it out and unfortunately, he is the one who is here to take the blame.

“It is, but what are you expecting me to do about it? Release a statement asking people to only talk about my dating life to make it equal? What can be done is that we try to fight this together, show them that you’re more than just a woman who is linked to a man in any kind of way.”

“Yeah, like realization is just gonna hit them,” you snap. “I’m at a turning point in my career, Harry. Whether I win a Grammy or not, this time is going to have an impact on my future. If I’m seen as just a girl linked to you, I’ll never make it. I’ll be forgotten and dragged again and I can kiss my career goodbye.”

You know you were way too harsh, but it’s what you think to be the truth. You didn’t fight your way to this point in life just to be seen as a man’s girlfriend rather than the artist you truly are. And right now, you can’t see yourself get out of this situation without letting go of Harry.

“Y/N, please don’t let this ruin what we have. We can get through this, you can’t let them control your life this much. Who are they to tell you what to do? That’s not the Y/N I know, come on!”

He tries to step closer, reaching out for you, but you take a step back, wanting to keep the distance between the two of you.

“I would prefer to be alone now,” you sternly say, folding your arms on your chest, closing yourself off from him as you don’t even look at him, because if you did, you know you would break.

“Y/N, please don’t do this, we—“

“Alone!” you snap, cutting him off.

He stares at you, hoping you might change your mind, but you’re quite set on this. He knows you well enough to know you won’t budge anytime soon. He lets out a shaky breath and slowly turning around, he heads towards the door as you’re already fighting your tears back. He stops right before he is about to walk out.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N,” he quietly says before walking out, the door shutting closed behind him.

The sobs start immediately and you fall to the ground, tears soaking your cheeks, already missing him more than anything in your life. You really thought it would be different this time, that things might get better, but you were naïve.

The next two days go by in a blur. The whole fucking internet is filled with those damn pictures of you and Harry, nothing has been about any of your Grammy nominations or even about your music, you’ve officially became the woman Harry Styles is dating.

Harry was titled as a Grammy nominee in every goddamn writing that surfaced, he was completely credited for his work while you could be happy if your name was written correctly. With every new article, your faith in having the career you worked so hard for lessened until you felt hopeless. You’ve officially became a dumb celebrity, just a woman who was known to be dating a man in the industry.

On the evening of the second day you have enough. You just read yet another degrading piece of you that was clearly written by a man, they once again talked about your case with Jordan, joking about history repeating itself and you swear you could scream and throw a tantrum like a baby at how useless and helpless you feel.

You put your laptop to the side and reach for your phone, dialing Taylor’s number.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” she asks right away, knowing well how hard these past days have been. She came over the evening you sent Harry away and tried to comfort you, but nothing could help you that night.

“Hey, I want to ask you to do something and not try to talk me out of it.”

“Oh God…” she sighs, already knowing you’re about to do something stupid according to her.

“I don’t want to perform at the Grammy’s.”

“What? With all due respect, are you fucking stupid?”

“I’m not stupid. But I don’t want to do it.”

“Well, this has got to be the most ridiculous move you’ve ever tried to pull. Why do you want to throw such a huge thing away?”

“I can’t… sing that song with Harry. If I stand on the stage and sing with him… I just can’t do it, Tay.”

“Of course you can! Suck it up! I know you miss him and it fucking sucks what’s happening, but you have to do it!” she tries to convince you, but you’ve already made your mind up.

“No. I’m not doing it. Please let them know that it’s going to be just Harry performing.”

And with that, you end the call.

Taylor knows better than to try to fight you, she doesn’t call back though you know she wants to murder you right now probably, but she’ll come around, she always does. You make yourself a tea hoping to relax your nerves with it though you know nothing can help you now. You wish you had someone to rely on, someone you could talk to right now, but usually Taylor is that person to you and lately Harry has been your support, but you can’t call either of them. The rest of the people you consider friends… they are just not that close to you. You’re left alone, again.

As your gaze wanders over to your phone, a thought pops up in your mind that makes your hands sweat. You think back to the conversation you had with Harry about your parents and you can’t shake the urge off to finally make that call.

“Fuck it,” you breathe out and grab the device, opening up the contacts until you find what you’ve been looking for. Your thumb hovers above the call button for a while before you finally tap on it and start the call. It rings four times before a voice speaks up on the other end.

“Halo?”

“Hi mom,” you reply and hear a gasp from her at your voice.

There’s less than a week left until the Grammy’s. For your own sake, you haven’t been online outside of answering work emails, you just can’t deal with the shit show your life has become on the internet.

You haven’t left your home unless you really needed to go somewhere, did most of your meetings over the phone or videochat and postponed a fitting as well. You’ve officially caved yourself up in your apartment and you are not planning on leaving anytime soon.

Taylor keys herself in, she hasn’t even mentioned that she might drop by, but you’re not surprised. She is probably here to try to bring you out of this pity party you’ve been holding for days. When she sees you lying on the couch in sweats and messy, unwashed hair, she sighs, shaking her head.

“You really need to pull your shit together, Y/N.”

“I’m fine,” you mumble, pulling your fuzzy blanket up to your chin.

“No, you’re not. This is not the bad bitch I know.”

“Bad bitches have bad days too.”

“This is not a bad day, you look like a fucking zombie. This is not what a Grammy nominee should look like days before the big show.”

“Doesn’t matter, it’s not like I’m performing or anything,” you shrug, but the look in Taylor’s eyes make yours go wide. “Taylor, I’m not performing, you informed them about it, right?”

“This is why I’m here,” she sighs walking closer, sitting on the other end of the couch. “I never cancelled on your performance.”

“I told you I’m not doing it!” “I know, but I was hoping you might come around. But you seem to be still acting like a stupid bitch, so that didn’t happen. However, I’ve gotten an interesting email today.”

She pulls out her phone and opens the email before handing it over to you. Shooting her an unhappy look you start reading.

-

Hi Taylor!

I got your email address from Jeff, wanted to write to you myself. I’ve officially pulled out of the Grammy performance so it’s going to be only Y/N in it. We are also working on a statement to release over the whole ordeal and my lawyers have been after the bigger gossip sites to get the articles down. I want Y/N to have the Grammy experience she deserves and I know it can’t happen with me in the performance. Tell her that I’m sorry for ruining it for her, she deserves so much more. I’m sorry she was brought into this.

I hope to see you soon, take care!

Harry

-

With parted lips, you look up at Taylor who is smiling softly at you.

“He… pulled out for me.”

“He did. Talked to Jeff on the phone, they have already let them know Harry wouldn’t be performing, they will make it official tomorrow.”

“But he deserves this just as much as I do. He is a nominee too.”

“Well, seems like he values you more than his own success.” Taylor lets out a long sigh and scooting closer she places a hand to your knee. “Look, I know you’re upset about how the media treats you just because you were seen out with Harry, and I know that you’re afraid of getting labeled as just the girl he dates and not get taken seriously as an artist, but you can’t let them stop you from living your life how you want to. There will always be judgment, there will always be men who are worse than trash and want to bring you down, but you are stronger than that. Pushing Harry away and being alone for the rest of your life is not a solution. What you can do to put them to their place is give them a big fuck you, date the hottest man in the industry and continue being the bad bitch that you are, fighting against the way you are being treated. Speak up, show them who they are dealing with, share your truth, like you always do! But you can do all of this with Harry by your side. You deserve to be happy and he makes you happy, don’t make yourself miserable because we live in a world where men are still placed above women. Fight for the change but don’t forget to think about yourself as well in the process.”

You feel the tears sting in your eyes. The weight of this past week is just way too heavy to carry, but Taylor is right and you are realizing that you’ve made it harder for yourself. The sobs come before you could stop yourself and Taylor pulls you into a hug.

“I know, I know. It fucking sucks, but you can’t let them win,” she soothes, running her hands up and down your back. “Show them how big of a bad bitch you are and get the man too.”

“You think Harry still wants to be with me?”

“I think that man would be on his knees for you in a heartbeat if you asked,” she chuckles pulling back. “Statement about the performance will be released tomorrow. That’s how long you have to figure it out,” she tells you with a knowing look before leaving you alone with your thoughts, however you don’t have to think long what you have to do.

You have not been the only one these past days took a toll on. The fight the two of you had left Harry completely drained, angry and helpless. He hated that he was the reason you weren’t credited as the talented artist that you are and he couldn’t stop thinking about ways to make it better. That’s when he came up with the idea of pulling out of the performance.

Now he is ready to spend the remaining days until the award show hidden from the world, not even leaving the house. Everyone close to him knows he is better not to be disturbed now, so he is quite surprised when the security system lets him know that someone has arrived.

As you drive up to his house you spot him immediately, stepping out the front door with a shocked look on his face, probably expecting you to be the last person to be there at the moment. You wipe your sweaty palms against your thighs as you walk up to him, feeling anxious to see him and talk to him, especially after the last conversation you had.

“Hey, I’m sorry for coming here without calling or anything…” you shyly start, stopping in front of you.

“Don’t be silly. Come… Come on in,” he clears his throat inviting you inside.

You’ve walked through this front door so many times in the past almost two months, but this is the first time you feel so odd, standing out, like you have no place in here and it’s all thanks to yourself.

“Do you want something to drink? Are you hungry?” Harry walks past you but then turns to face you, talking to you with such warmth and kindness, even after how you acted, putting blame on him for something he has no control over. It completely breaks you and can’t stop your eyes from watering as you look at him. You really hoped you’ve run out of tears in the past days, but it seems like that’s not the case at all.

“Harry, I’m so sorry,” you breathe out shakily and you step closer to each other at the same time, he envelopes you in his strong arms and you fist his shirt at his chest. “I know it was none of your fault, I just got so desperate and afraid that it might ruin what I worked so hard for.”

“I know. And you were right about everything. Everything you said was true and I’m sorry you have to deal with it.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t right to be mad at you just because you have different privileges, it’s not like you can change who you are. So I’m really sorry about that, and also for pushing you away when you were just trying to be there for me. I was so stupid,” you breathe out, wiping the tears sliding your cheeks down away.

“You just panicked, it’s okay. Don’t apologize for wanting to protect yourself.”

Resting your forehead against his shoulder you wait for your sobs to die down before you look back up at him. Reaching up he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, smiling down at you warmly and that smile alone ensures you that you are exactly where you are supposed to be, with the right person.

“Taylor showed me the email you sent her,” you bring it up, clearing your throat.

“You deserve it all to yourself so people can see how amazing of an artist you are.”

“I’m not doing it without you,” you shake your head stubbornly. “We wrote the song together and we’re gonna perform it together or else I’m not doing it either.”

“Y/N, you know if we step on that stage together they are gonna twist the whole thing and make it about something else. I want you to have this opportunity for your career without me ruining it with just my presence.”

“Fuck them, if they take it as something it’s not. They are not gonna take the chance away from us to perform our song. If they are such fucking dumbasses that they make it all about what’s between us, that’s their own personal problem. If I need to, I’ll go on a Twitter rant and tell them this myself. I want you on stage with me or else I’m not doing it either.”

Harry breathes out through his nose, pressing his lips together as he stares back at you, probably realizing you are dead serious about pulling out of the performance and he is right. He doesn’t even know you were the first one to cancel on it, you’d do it again without hesitation.

“I guess we are performing then,” he cracks a small smile and throwing your arms around his neck you pull him down, lips smashing against his, the kiss mingling with giggles and smiles.

Harry wraps his arms tight around your waist, pulling you up from the ground as he spins you around, making you squeal as you hold onto him.

“I have to call Jeff to call the Grammy’s not to post the statement,” he hums against your lips and he pecks them a few more times before letting go of you to quickly make a call to his manager.

You move over to the couch in his living room as he talks to Jeff, who is luckily very understanding about the sudden change. Hugging your knees to your chest you watch him pace the floor, exchanging a few more words with the man on the phone before ending the call, his gaze dropping to you again. Sitting beside you, he kisses your temple, dropping an arm around your shoulders as you lean against him, head resting on his chest.

“I called my mom,” you drop the bomb suddenly and you can feel him tense up for a moment, probably shocked by your words.

“You did?”

“Yeah.” Lifting your head your gaze meets his as you carry on. “She was… very shocked to hear my voice.”

“I bet,” he hums. “What did you talk about?”

“I just… asked how they are doing and told her that I’ve been thinking a lot about them. She sounded genuinely touched by it and said I’m always welcomed for dinner or lunch if I’d like to see them.”

“That’s amazing! See, I told you they would love to hear from you!”

“Yeah,” you smile at him softly. “I think I want to go over sometime after the Grammy’s.”

“I’m sure it’s going to go well.”

“Would you please come with me?”

Your question catches him off-guard he seems surprised that you would want him there, but then his expression softens as he leans down and kisses your forehead.

“I would love to, if you want me there.”

“I do,” you nod.

“Then it’s settled,” he smiles warmly as you lay your head back to his chest, his fingers gently dancing up and down your arm and for once in your life you finally feel settled, like everything is going to be fine.

Highlights of the 63rd Annual Grammy Awards: Y/N Y/L/N blows up stage with new hit duet

The killer duo surprised us all with a brand new duet titled Floating Through Space, performed it together on their big night. Wearing matching galaxy themed suits, Y/L/N and Styles have closed off the evening with probably the most success, the latter winning two out of his three nominations, receiving the award for Best Music Video and Best Pop Vocal Album with his latest album, Fine Line, while Y/L/N was titled best new artist, becoming a Grammy winner early in her career.

Tabloids blew up earlier this month when the two singers were photographed cozied up at dinner with friends, speculations started about their possible romance, but Y/L/N has made a clear statement on the question with her red carpet appearance before the award show. Wearing a head to toe black Gucci gown paired with a dramatic cape, the message “I’M AN ARTIST, ASK ME ABOUT MY ART” painted onto it in red, making a bold statement about her opinion on the way the media has been treating the star.

Both singers remained silent on their alleged romance, but proved to be the best of their time with their joined performance with their new emotional duet. Following the song’s debut on stage it was released to the public as a single right away, taking over all charts with its overwhelming success.

Listen to Floating Through Space now on Spotify and Apple Music!

Your knuckles are turning white from the tight grip on the steering wheel as you stare up at the home you grew up in. It looks almost the same, sometime through the years you haven’t been around your parents have painted it a light blue color from the paste yellow, but it’s still… the same.

“Hey.”

Turning to your right you look at Harry who is smiling at you warmly as his hand reaches over and squeezes your knee gently.

“It’s going to be fine. I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you, you’re still their daughter.”

“That’s not what they told me the last time I was here,” you whisper, feeling your throat closing up.

“We all say things in the heat of the moment. Seeing how happy they were about this lunch proves that they regret what happened.”

Nodding you take a deep breath to get ready for whatever is going to happen. Leaning over the console you pull Harry in for a kiss and it calms your nerves a little. Getting out of the car he takes your hand and squeezes it to let you know he’ll be right by your side all along. As you walk up to the front porch a sense of strong nostalgia washes over you.

You didn’t have a bad childhood, your parents provided you so much growing up, it’s sad to think what it has become. In a way you feel more anxious than walking the red carpet a week ago for the Grammys even though you’re just meeting your parents, but this is a turning point in your life that needed to come sooner or later.

“I’m right here, baby. It’s going to be fine,” Harry murmurs, kissing your forehead before you ring the doorbell, feeling weird that you come here as a guest, not as someone who belongs here.

You hear footsteps approaching on the other side, two frames appear through the clouded glass of the front door and then it flies open, pushing all air out of your lungs, clinging tightly onto Harry’s hand. There’s a moment of silence and just staring at each other before the tiniest smile tugs on your lips.

“Hi mom, hi dad.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[bi-bi-buckleydiaz]

deep breath, do your job | owen joyner

requested; yes! - Could you do a Owen x reader where the reader is Owens personal assistant while filming JATP and while they are filming the reader starts catching feelings for Owen but Owen is in a relationship. Owen and his girlfriend breakup and the reader comes over to comfort Owen and Owen confesses that the reason him and his girlfriend broke up was because of the reader.

word count; 6.4K ... yeah kinda got away from me there. longest fic i’ve ever written

warnings; language, implied sexual content but no actual sex or description thereof

a/n; lol, so i just wrote from 1AM - 4AM because i’m procrastinating my child dev. project thats due today that’s worth a quarter of my grade. i really didn’t mean for this to be so long so it’s probably not this good and the ending is a lil’ rough, but oh well. hope whoever requested this likes it. i kinda do even though it’s long and only slightly proofread.

“Owen Patrick Joyner! Get your ass into hair and makeup before - oh, um, okay oops. Sorry ‘bout that. Should have knocked. I’ll just - yep, i’ll just go.” 

You thought he’d be sleeping. It’s nap time for him anyway, so he should’ve been sleeping. Instead, your technically boss and definite crush, was on his trailer couch with a girl you’ve never seen before. Kissing her. Without a shirt. Yeah, you definitely need to get out of there. 

You’re quick to close his door and begin to walk back to the hair and makeup trailer to tell them Owen will be a minute. 

“Y/N! Hey! Wait up! It’s um, it’s not, well it is, but -” He grabs your arm, causing you to turn around and face him, which, big mistake. Abort. Abort. Turn around. His post make out face is something you did not want to see. Liar.  

“It’s fine Owen. What you do in your free time is not my, well, actually it is since i’m your PA, I just mean who - WHAT, what you do in your personal time, in your trailer, is not my concern. Just, you’re needed in hair and makeup like, an hour ago. So, yeah, just, get there.” You stumble over half your words and watch his face fall as you near the end of your spiel. When he lets go of your arm you’re quick to turn around and leave him alone, walking right past hair and makeup and to set where you can curl up in your chair and eat your weight in brownies, if Madi hasn’t taken them all that is. You hope he goes to get his hair done. You know you should walk with him there because if you’re not practically dragging him to where he needs to go he never gets there on time, as just witnessed. But it’s usually because he’s goofing off with Charlie, not sucking face with a random girl. 

You don’t notice the brownie in your hand has crumbled until a whistle comes from behind you. You turn around a little too quickly, sending the brownie bits flying to the floor. 

“Shit.” You kneel down to begin picking it up, another hand coming into help. Charlie, based on the rings adorning the fingers. 

“Is Owen’s keeper okay?” You huff a laugh at the name the cast gave you a week into filming. You’re the only one who has managed to keep Owen in line since filming started, the only reason he’s ever on time for anything or actually has real food in the apartment or has his drumsticks when needed, etc. etc. 

The boys didn’t want PA’s when Kenny proposed it during bootcamp, they were young adults, they didn't want to boss someone around, it felt wrong. But having more experience than the boys, Kenny vetoed how they felt and told them PA’s would help tremendously, especially on a project like this. That’s where you came in. You were trying to get into the directing and producing scene in Hollywood, you’re dream to be as good a director as Steven Spielberg or, well, Kenny Ortega. But you knew you had to start small, so you applied for a PA job on an upcoming Netflix show, getting hired within the week. Now here you are, a nineteen year old being in charge of another nineteen year old who acts more like he’s five. 

In the beginning, it was purely professional. You were nothing more than his PA who got him from place A to place B in a timely fashion. But then he started to rope you into pranks with the rest of the band. He started inviting you to movie nights, and adventures to the grocery store, and ice skating with Charlie and Madi, and somewhere between helping him keep his life in order and watching him fall on his ass at the ice rink, you fell for the blonde. You know it’s a mistake, falling for him. You work for him. He’s your friend. That’s all he sees you as, but you couldn’t help it. But you’re good at compartmentalizing, so you took all the inappropriate feelings, shoved them in a box, locked the box, and hid it deep in your unconscious. You were doing well with ignoring the box, until you walked in on Owen kissing someone that wasn’t you. 

“I’m fine Charlie, just, stressed. Owen was an hour late to hair and makeup so I kinda feel like a shit PA right now.” Charlie chuckles and hugs you as you both stand up. 

“Please Y/N, you’re the best PA. If it weren’t for you, Owen would never know where anything is, including his head.” You laugh into his shoulder, reveling in the hug for a few more seconds. When you part, you see a flash of blonde enter the set and sigh in relief. He made it. He’s ready. You’re not fired today. 

Just incredibly confused and upset. 

But not fired.

“You better go, I know you’re in this scene with Owen.” Charlie nods and squeezes your shoulder once before running after Owen onto the set that holds Julie’s shed. Taking a deep breath, you try to push whatever the hell you saw ten minutes ago into your box, and get ready for the day ahead. 

Four hours, six brownies, and two cookies later, Owen is officially wrapped for the day, meaning you can go home and continue to eat your feelings in ice cream. You’re quick to grab your binder full of Owen’s schedules to drop tomorrow’s off at his trailer before he sees you. You’re not really in the mood to talk to him about what happened earlier, so you fast walk to his trailer, fully intent on just leaving the paper on his counter where he’ll see it, but a brown haired, green eyed girl throws that plan right out the window. 

You’re so stupid. You should’ve known she would still be here. Waiting. 

“Oh, um, hi.” She says. She sounds nice. She looks nice. But when you look at her all you can see is her hands in Owen’s hair and his lips on hers. 

“Hi.” You don’t know how, but you managed to put on a smile and put a little pep into your voice. “I’m Ashley. I’m waiting for Owen. Is he done?” You nod, not trusting your voice as you stand awkwardly in the doorway, one foot on the step the other in the trailer, hand outstretched ready to place the schedule on the table. 

“He just wrapped for the day. Should be here in a few.” The girl - Ashley - nods. 

“You’re Y/N, right? His personal assistant?” How does she know that. She giggles, “He talks about you all the time. Says the only reason he’s not fired or dead in a ditch is because of you.” OH, you said that aloud. Coolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoo-

“Y/N! What are ya doing just standing in the doorway?” Fuck. You put a smile on and turn around. He’s smiling softly at you, still in Alex’s clothes, twirling those damn drumsticks around his fingers. 

“Um, just dropping tomorrow’s schedule off. Here. Okay...bye.” You walk down the steps, letting the door shut behind you, fully intent on leaving, but Owen grabs your arm again, just like earlier, causing you to stop and turn to look at him. 

“Wait. Can we talk real quick. About...earlier?” No. No absolutely not. 

“Um, I really have to go. I have a lot to do tonight for tomorrow.” Owen sighs and lets go of your arm, face contorting into that of a sad puppy. 

“Just, one minute Y/N. Please. Let me explain.” Screw him and his perfect freaking face. 

“A minute.” His face lights up and grabs your hand, leading you back into his trailer, smiling even wider at seeing Ashley sitting pretty on the couch. 

“Y/N, this is Ashley, my girlfriend.” Ashley smiles and waves, standing up to stand by Owen and grab his hand. A rock settles in your chest at the word. 

Girlfriend. 

Girlfriend. 

Girlfriend. 

“Nice. I’m Y/N. But you knew that. Just like you also know I’m in charge of getting him to places on time. Which didn't happen today.” Owen’s face flushes at that while Ashley terribly hides a smirk behind her hand. 

“Uh, yeah, sorry about that Y/N. She surprised me today. We weren’t supposed to see each other until Thanksgiving but she finished classes early and flew out to surprise me. Kinda got, caught up in -” His face is beat red so you’re quick to cut him off. 

“It’s fine. Just, try not to get ‘caught up’ tomorrow, yeah?” It’s harsh and full of hostility, but you want to leave, the word still bouncing around in your head, swirling around the scene you walked into earlier. 

Girlfriend. 

Kissing. 

Girlfriend. 

Flushed face. 

Girlfriend. 

Kissing. 

“I have to go. See you tomorrow on set at 5 Am. Got it? Five A M. Don’t make me break into your apartment again. I almost got arrested for that.” Owen is still reeling from your harsh words said a second ago to laugh at the memory. Ashley however, has no qualms about speaking up. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he’s here on time.” She smiles and wraps around his arm like a koala. You hold back a scoff, throwing up a fake smile before turning and leaving. 

Girlfriend. 

Girlfriend. 

Girlfriend. 

It’s almost midnight.

It’s 11:48 PM and someone is knocking on your door. 

Who the fuck is pounding on your door at near midnight. 

You shuffle to the door wrapped up in your comforter, wiping the sleep out of your eyes. You don’t bother looking through the peephole, too angry at the person behind the door to bother, just wanting to yell at them and get back to bed. 

“What the - Charlie?” He looks exhausted, hair ruffled and eyes puffy. He’s in joggers, a random band tee and his denim jacket. You’re pretty sure his shoes are on the wrong feet. 

“Can I stay the night?” He doesn’t wait for your response before walking into your apartment, flinging his shoes and jacket off and walking to your room. You sigh, ignoring the way he just threw his stuff around and instead follow him to your room before he takes your side of the bed. You walk in just as he chucks his shirt off and woah. You were so not expecting that. An explanation as to why he’s here at midnight? Yeah. Him taking your side of the bed? Definitely. But not Charlie taking his shirt off and crawling onto the right side of the bed and curling around a pillow. You take a moment to collect yourself and your thoughts before crawling into bed next to him, making sure to drape the comforter over him as well. He hums in content and turns around to face you. 

“Sorry for barging in like this. Just, ugh, Owen and that girl are not quiet if you catch my drift.” And it’s like the rock in your heart is now a boulder and it’s crushing your ribcage. You can’t breathe. You can’t think. You’re frozen, staring at Charlie’s half asleep face. “Like I get it, you’ve missed each other. But c’mon bro I’m there too.” He keeps talking. Keeps pushing the boulder until all the ribs crack and puncture your lungs. “There’s somethings in this world I never wanted to hear, and Owen moaning was one of them.” He won’t shut up. Charlie shut up. You’re entire chest is fracturing, breaking at his words and he needs to shut. up.

“I didn’t really know where else to go, but I remembered how comfy your bed was last movie night so, here I am.” His voice is raspy, words slurring as he’s trying to fight sleep to explain to you why he’s here. But you can’t focus on him right now. Can’t think about a shirtless Charlie in your bed. There’s only one thing you can think about right now. 

Girlfriend. 

Shirtless. 

Girlfriend. 

Kissing. 

Girlfriend. 

“Thanks for letting me crash by the way. I’ll try not to kick you in my sleep.” He chuckles, then finally opens his eyes when you don’t laugh back. You don’t know how you look right now. You know you’re frozen. But is the panic and pure sadness showing on your face? It must be, because suddenly Charlie is wide awake and leaning up on his elbow to look at you fully. “Y/N are you okay?” He’s worried. You want to tell him you’re okay. It’s fine. Everything is fine. But you can’t move. You can’t talk. Because reality is crushing you. It’s ripping up your heart, suffocating you, consuming your mind. 

Owen isn’t yours. 

Owen will never be yours. 

You’re just a friend. 

You’re just his PA. 

That’s when the tears finally start. They come slowly, one trailing down your cheek, then another. Then all at once your sobbing into Charlie’s chest, no doubt getting snot all over him. But he doesn’t seem to care. He just starts to hum some random song while he repeatedly runs his hand over your hair, the other holding you close to him. He keeps humming, his chest vibrating and giving you something to focus on that isn’t your depressing thoughts. It’s almost soothing, the petting and the hug and the humming. 

You don’t know how long you sob into him, but when you stop, his humming stops too. He still holds you close, just lets go of your head so you can lean back a little and look up at him. He’s brows furrow in concern and he pouts at your post-crying face. 

“Are you okay? Am I really that bad of company?” He tries for funny but you can’t bring yourself to laugh with him. Just pout and push his semi-wet chest. “Seriously Y/N, i’ve never seen you like this. What’s wrong?” Those two words. 

What’s wrong?

What’s wrong? I fell for my boss and now he’s doing it with some girl and I can’t stop thinking about them and it’s killing me because before I could live with being his friend and PA because at least there was some sliver of a chance but now there’s nothing because he has someone and I have no one and I can’t breathe because oh my god I love him. I love that stupid fool and i’m nothing but his personal assistant. 

It’s quiet for a minute, too quiet, and that’s when you realize you said all that out loud. You look up at Charlie, which was a mistake because his face is full of pity. It’s all sad puppy eyes and “Shit Y/N i’m so sorry.” A fresh wave of tears make their way out of your eyes, but Charlie is quick to wipe them away. 

“Y/N I didn’t know I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t have said all of that, God I was so stupid.” And then it’s like a whole new flood gate opens, this one full of laughter though. You start with a chuckle, but soon it’s full out belly laughing. Because Charlie isn’t the stupid one here. “I’m the stupid one. I mean, how idiotic does a PA have to be to fall for the one they’re in charge of? Never mix work with pleasure. It’s PA-ing 101, don’t fall for your boss. I’m so fucking stupid to ever fall for him or think he’d like me back because i’m just his stupid PA who has no talent what so ever, never has a good hair day, can’t go a day without eating their weight in sugar, and will never see him again after filming is wrapped.” Your laughing dies down by the end, and then ends completely when you see the look on Charlie’s face. It’s not exactly pity, but it’s not exactly sadness either. It’s hard to describe what exactly it is, but it’s not good. 

“Y/N. Babes. I don’t ever want to hear you talk about yourself like that again, okay? I swear to God next time I hear anything like that come out of your mouth again, I’m hitting you with a pillow.” You giggle, but he stays serious. “Dead ass Y/N. Listen, was it probably not the smartest to fall for Owen? Yeah. But you didn’t know he had someone. I didn’t even know he had a girl and I’m his roommate. But, we can’t help who we like. It’s all brain chemistry and heart palpitations and whatever else. It’s something we can’t control. So don’t say you’re stupid because of something you can’t control.” 

“You’re being really smart and caring for twelve am.” You both chuckle, a real smile gracing your face for once in the past twelve hours. 

“I’m sorry for the breakdown it’s just, there’s a lot in my head right now and what you said really didn’t help.” Charlie sighs and pulls you in close. 

“I’m sorry babes. You should’ve slapped me or something.” 

“I probably would’ve had the breakdown at some point tonight anyway.” Charlie pulls back a bit to look at you, confusion on his face. “I kinda walked in on them making out earlier when Owen was late to hair and makeup.” 

“Is that why you crushed that brownie earlier?” You sigh and nod. 

“Y/N, i’m sorry. I’m so sorry you have to go through this.” 

“It’s fine Charlie. It’s, well, it’s not but, I’ll get over it. I’m a big girl. Besides, I have you to get my tears and snot all over right?” He groans while you giggle, but he isn’t really mad if the way he pulls you close and rests his face in your hair is any indication. 

“Always babes.” 

The next day you drive to set with Charlie who didn’t have to be on set at five like Owen, but joined you nonetheless. Taking his duty as your new ‘heartguard’ as he called it last night, you walk to hair and makeup with his arm around your shoulders. It’s comforting, even though he’s putting most of his weight on you because he’s exhausted, the coffee you gave him this morning clearly doing nothing to wake up. 

“Charlie, you could’ve stayed in bed until you were actually needed.” You laugh as he trips up the steps to the trailer, nearly face planting if it weren’t for you wrapping your arms around his waist last minute. 

“Char you good?” You hear BooBoo ask. Charlie grumbles something incoherent and shoves his face into your neck as you lean against the arm of the couch. BooBoo laughs, so do you, but quickly sober up when Owen walks in, Ashley on his arm. Charlie must have ESP or something because, without looking up at who walked in, he wraps his arms around your waist and murmurs in your ear, “Deep breaths. I’m here.” You do as he says, shooting Owen a friendly smile, but dropping it as he frowns at you. 

What is that about? 

“Glad to see you on time Owen. I wouldn’t have been able to break in this morning anyway because an octopus decided to break into my own apartment last night.” You ruffle Charlie’s hair as you say that and he grumbles some more, playfully biting your neck as well. “Ow. Asshole.” Owen frowns even deeper at that, while BooBoo chuckles. He get’s scolded a second later for moving. 

“So that’s where you disappeared to last night. I was wondering why you weren’t home this morning.” Owen’s voice is tight while he says it, Ashley noticing as well if the tightened grip on his arm is anything to go by. Charlie squeezes your waist as a way to say, ‘prepare yourself’ before he moves his head to lean against your shoulder so he can talk. 

“Yeah well, I wouldn’t have had to if you and your girl weren’t so freaking loud.” You tense up, mind starting to reel again, but a squeeze to your waist and a warm breath on your neck manages to bring you back. The trailer goes quiet, even the hair and makeup ladies tensing up and sensing the tension. Charlie, ever the wrong place, wrong time type of guy, grabs your hand and places it on his hair, then moves it back and forth. 

“Pet me.” Despite the tension in the room, you can’t help but giggle at the stupid Canadian boy wrapped around you. Apparently that’s all the rest of the people in the trailer needed to go back to what they were doing. That or they just didn’t want to get involved in young adult drama. You shoot a look at Owen, his jaw tense and hands clenched into fists. Completely ignoring the way Ashley leans up to kiss Owen’s neck, you open your phone and begin to read off his schedule for the day, your left hand still running through Charlie’s hair. 

“Hair and makeup at five AM, sit your butt down and let Shelly do her thing, costume fitting right after. First scene at six-thirty with BooBoo, you guys are doing the scene at the Orpheum where you talk about what’s been going on, you’re going to be sad so this whole frowny face you got going on? Keep it. A break after that then rehearsal with Charlie, Jer, and Mads for Stand Tall. Fitting for the Stand Tall suit is after that, but no actual filming for that scene yet, just getting the measures right so after that, you’re done for the day.” You take a deep breath after all that, BooBoo whistling at you from his seat. 

“You could be an auctioneer with how fast you talk.” You smile and bow your head at him.

“I’ll take that as a compliment Boo.” He shoots you a smile and then raises his hand to high five Owen as he sits next to him. Owen ignores him. In fact, he stays silent throughout all of getting his hair and makeup done. Only smiling occasionally when Ashley shows him a meme on her phone. You watch them, the boulder in your chest rolling around as you do so. But not for jealousy, no, for concern. Owen is acting very unlike himself. You may be upset right now, especially with him, but it doesn’t mean you still don’t see him as a friend; still don’t worry about him. Something is wrong, and you can’t help but feel like it’s your fault. 

“So did it work?” You jump in surprise at the voice behind you, the cookie in your hand crumbling and falling onto the table. 

“Charlie! What did I say about sneaking up on me?” You turn to look at the boy who is smiling too wide at you for you to think this is about to be a completely innocent conversation. 

“Did it work?” He’s practically vibrating where he stands.

“Did what work?” 

“The cuddling this morning? Didn’t you see Owen? He was totally jealous.” And - what? That’s why he was so touchy this morning? 

“I just thought you were tired, that was - you were trying to make Owen jealous? Charlie what the hell? He has a girlfriend!” Charlie rolls his eyes and loops his arm around yours, dragging you away from the cookies and towards the costume room. 

“Yeah, but we both know she shouldn’t be. And the way he was acting this morning? I think he’s starting to realize that too.” There’s no way...right? No, the way Charlie described last night...no. 

“No, okay, he was probably just tired and angry about having to be here so early.” Yeah, that’s it. He was not jealous of the friendly cuddling you and Charlie were doing. Totally...not. Holy shit. You hear Charlie giggling in your ear as you enter costume. 

There, in front of you, is a very shirtless, very toned, very pretty Owen Joyner.

“You’re welcome.” Then Charlie is off to God knows where. Leaving you alone with Owen. Well, not really alone since Soyon is here too, running around looking for different fabrics and textures to throw on Owen. A still very shirtless Owen. 

“Oh, hi Y/N. What are you doing here?” Owen asks, looking at you though the floor length mirror in front of him. He’s not smiling at you, but he’s not frowning either, so improvement from this morning. 

“Oh, um, just making sure you got here on time. And look at that. You did! Good job.” You clap, who knows why, but it makes Owen laugh, which, whew, okay. 

“Yeah, I reminded him.” A voice behind you says. You turn and look at Ashley walking in, coffee cup in hand. She bounces up to Owen, ignoring Soyon and placing a big, wet kiss onto his lips before moving to the couch off to the side. Owen seems shocked by the PDA, which makes sense, you know he’s not big on that, remembering one late night conversation you both had a few weeks ago. 

“Anyway, Y/N, how does this one looks. I think the ruffles are nice. And then when he’s performing Stand Tall we can,” and then she begins to unbutton the shirt all the way down to mid chest and okay, seriously Soyon, now you just want to torture me. 

“I like this.” Owen says, twirling in the mirror like a ballerina. This causes the shirt to fling open more, showing his chest more in the process.

Deep breaths. 

Be a friend. 

You’re a big girl. 

“Yeah. It’s good,” you say, walking over to him to tuck to the sides back together somewhat. “Are you going to keep with the pink theme for the jacket?” Soyon smiles and nods, walking away for a minute leaving you alone with Owen and Ashley. 

“Should it really be unbuttoned that much? I mean, it is a kids show? I don’t want to share my boy with fangirls.” Ashley says. You can’t stop your eyes from rolling or the scoff that leaves your mouth. You watch Owen’s Adam's apple bob as he gulps. 

“Please, Charlie is sleeveless for a majority of the show. Owen showing a little chest isn’t gonna hurt anyone. Besides, Soyon chose good. The way the shirt fits and settles it’s never going to open all the way. Unless, ya know, he twirls like some Carolynn Rowland wannabe.” You smile up at Owen and inhale sharply when you see he’s already looking down at you. “And with the jacket on it’ll stay put pretty well.” You’re still holding the shirt in your hands, looking at Owen’s face as you talk. For a second, it’s just you and him, looking at each other, smiling. Then Soyon comes back and clears her throat. The trance breaks and you back up. You wipe your sweaty hands on your jeans before backing up and standing next to the mirror. You feel eyes on you and look over to see Ashely glaring at you. 

“Here we go. One pink jacket to match.” Owen slides it on and smiles wide. You have to say, it looks good. Professionally speaking of course. 

“Soyon, have I ever said how freaking amazing you are. I mean, this is really good looking. Very Alex.” Owen praises. He’s smiling and it’s a nice sight after this mornings debacle. 

“Alex is going to be the best looking one on that stage.” Owen looks over at you, his smile still there, and the boulder shrinks three sizes. 

“Still think the shirt should be buttoned.” Ashley mutters. But everyone ignores her, even Owen, who does another twirl in front of the mirror. 

“Well then, you’re all set Owen. Go ahead and change and I’ll see you tomorrow.” Soyon leaves, going off to do costume designer things, leaving you alone with Owen and Ashley again. Owen takes the jacket off, then looks around not knowing what to do with it. You sigh and smile softly, taking it from him.

“Here, just give me all the clothes and i’ll take them back to your rack.” He smiles thankfully at you, before frowning again and looking down at his outfit. Getting what he’s thinking, you chuckle and cross your arms. “Bub I just saw you shirtless it’s not a big deal. Now c’mon, give me the clothes before Soyon thinks you’re stealing them.” Owen looks up at you in a way you’ve never seen him look at you before. It makes you take a sharp breath in.

“Maybe you should go. I can give the clothes to Soyon. Don’t you have assistant duties to do?” Ashley is right next to you as she says it. It makes your ears hurt and hands clench. You’re quick to unclench though, not wanting to wrinkle the nice pink jacket. Ashley moves forward to unbutton Owen’s shirt all the way, but he grabs her hand before she can begin. 

“Actually I need Y/N to stay. I have to talk to her about some, ya know, assistant stuff. And besides, she knows where Alex’s rack is and that’s where the clothes have to go. Why don’t you go wait for me in the trailer, I’ll be there in a few.” 

I need Y/N to stay. 

That shouldn’t make you feel as warm and tingly as it does. 

Ashley scoffs and looks away, clearly trying to guilt trip him. Owen sighs and kisses her cheek.  

“Trailer. Ten minutes.” Ashley sighs before nodding and finally leaving. He watches her go, then turns back to you when she finally disappears. You clear your throat and he looks back at you, face a bit red. 

“Um, hey.” You chuckle. 

“Hi.” He nods, and you sigh, walking so you’re right in front of him. “Seriously, O, you need to get this off because if they’re not on the rack for Soyon to fix up by the end of the day it’s my head on a stick, not yours.” Then you’re unbuttoning his shirt. 

You’re unbuttoning. His shirt. You don’t realize you’re doing it until you hand grazes his navel when you untuck it from his pants. You hear him suck in a breath and you immediately take two steps back. 

“Sorry, um. Sorry that was not, um, -” 

“It’s okay. You were just, doing your job. Making sure I get stuff done on time, right?” But his voice is wobbly as he says it and his face is as red as a tomato. You couldn’t have made him that flushed, not you? 

“Right. Yeah. Um, so, pants?” Owen looks at you with wide eyes. “I need to take the pants back too.” It’s quiet, but you know he heard you because he nods his head and begins to unbutton them. You suddenly feel very hot, very suffocated. You should’ve left when you had the chance, just let Ashley do this. You shouldn’t be here, watching as he pulls the velvet pants down his legs. Watching as he steps out of them and - oh God he’s falling. You grab his hand to help him but it’s too late, you both tumble to the ground. You’re on top of him, smushed up against his bare chest, faces centimeters apart, sharing breaths. 

“Sorry.” You mumble. You watch him gulp and look down. Down at wha - oh. 

“It’s, it’s okay. I’m the one that fell and pulled you down.” You nod, causing your nose to brush against his. You’re close, so freaking close that if you were to move not even a full centimeter, your lips would touch.

So. 

Close. 

“What. The. Hell!” SHit. Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

You’re quick to scramble away from Owen, butt scooting across the floor to get as far away from him as possible. Owen jumps up, kicking the pants away then realizing that was probably not a smart idea because now he’s half naked in between Ashley and you.  

“Ash I -” 

“You were taking forever, wanted to know why. Thought you said there was nothing between you two?” She’s practically screeching. You know within minutes there will be a crowd. A crowd Owen will not want, his anxiety will not want. Ignoring his stuttering and the conversation in general, you push away the heat in your belly and the tingling in your spine and take a deep breath. 

Deep breath. 

Be a friend. Do your job.

You grab Owen’s clothes and put them in his hands, ignoring his speaking and Ashley ranting, you grab his hand and then hers, and shove them towards the back exit. 

“This is a trailer conversation, not a wardrobe fitting conversation. Leave, now.” 

“No, I have a lot to say -” 

“Listen to me, I’m trying to do my job and not get Owen in trouble. If you really care about him, you’ll take this conversation to his trailer. Now.” Then you shove them out the door before Ashley could screech some more. 

Deep breath. 

Do your job. 

You go back to the fitting area, only to see Charlie, Jer, and Madi standing there, looking confused. 

Deep breath.

Do your job.

“Hey guys. Owen just left. He and Ashley are having a date night.” Charlie gives you a look, but Jer and Madi nod, going to accept it, but Charlie has to open his big dumb Canadian mouth. 

“Why’d we hear screaming then?” Charlie questions. Jer and Madi look at each other, then back at you. 

“Oh, uh, mouse. I saw a mouse. Yep. Mouse. Anyway, I have to get this clothes hung up before they wrinkle, so excuse me.” 

Deep breath. 

Do your job.

You walk around the trio, gathering the suit and shaking everything out as you walk over to the Alex rack to hang them up. You hear the door to the room open and two sets of feet walking out. 

“Charlie, everything is fine okay? Just a little misunderstanding.” 

“Like?” You sigh and turn around from finishing hanging up the clothes. 

“Like...Owen kinda fell and when I went to help him I feel too...on top of him.” There’s silence then, 

“OH MY GOD! Y/N THAT’S LIKE FANFIC SHIT THAT WAS THE MOMENT! DID YOU KISS OH MY GOD TELL ME EVERYTHING!” He’s jumping up and down as he makes his way to you. 

“Ashley walked in.” All excitement stops.

“Oh shit.” You nod, walking past him to settle on the couch, pulling a pillow to your chest. 

“Yeah. And she started screeching and I knew Owen wouldn’t like to attention so I shoved them out the back door to his trailer.” Charlie’s arm goes around you, pulling you close. He goes to say something, but your phone ringing indicating a text from Owen stops him. You pull it out, opening it as Charlie watches over your shoulder. 

My trailer plz. 

Charlie starts shaking your shoulders, smiling like a maniac. “This is your chance Y/N go go GO!” you shake your head at Charlie’s antics, but leave nonetheless. 

Anxiety creeps up on you as you get closer and closer to his trailers, not knowing what you’re going to walk into. Him firing you? Saying you can’t be friends anymore? Ashley ready to claw your face off? 

Deep breath.

Be a friend.

You knock on his door. It opens a second later to a frantic looking Owen. Now you're anxious about him. Why does he look upset? Is he okay? He grabs your hand and pulls you into his, oh, empty trailer. Ashley is nowhere to be seen. 

“Hey, thanks for coming.” You nod, still looking around expecting her to jump out and slap you. “Um, sit. Sit, I have to talk to you about something.” You go to sit on the couch, but then remember what occurred there yesterday and instead lean against the counter. He notices but doesn’t say anything. 

“Yeah okay. What’s up?” You try to act nonchalant, but the anxiety is too high for that. ‘I have to talk to you about something’ never ends well. He walks over and sits on the bed pats the spot next to him. God, this can’t be a good conversation if he really wants you to sit. 

“Ashley and I were never...on here.” He mumbles. You walk over and sit next to him, blushing that he caught on to why you didn’t sit on the couch. 

“Must be serious if you need me to sit.” Owen takes a deep breath, another, another, and then there’s lips on your. They’re soft and nice and taste like carmex chapstick. 

“Mhm, Owen, what, what are you doing?” Your faces are still close together, both of you not wanting to back away yet. 

“I’m gonna talk. Okay I’m gonna talk and I want you to listen and not crawl inside your head too soon okay?” You nod, knowing in this moment you’d do anything to keep him this close. 

“I knew Ashley from high school. She started texting me a few weeks back and one thing led to another and she was calling me her boyfriend. I didn’t want it but it happened and I let it because it got my mind off a girl I shouldn’t like because it would ruin so many things. I didn’t know she was coming to visit and when she knocked on my trailer she jumped me and just kept going. And I just went along with everything yesterday because I’m supposed to be her boyfriend and I’m supposed to think about those things with her and I’m supposed to want those things with her, but I don’t Y/N. I don’t want those things with her I never did. I, I want them with you. I’ve wanted them with you from the moment you finally stopped being shy around me and dragged me from crafts by my ear to hair and makeup. You’re so amazing Y/N and I thought if I did anything I’d ruin this and ruin your career and I didn’t want that. I never wanted that so I went along with Ashley but I shouldn’t have because the whole time I was thinking about you. It’s always been -” You kiss him. You grab him by the cheeks and kiss him. It’s a passionate kiss, an ‘about time’ kiss, an ‘i’m never letting you go’ kiss. 

You only break away when you can’t breathe, and even then you only pull away enough to breath in each other’s air. 

“She left. She’s gone. She knew I was never 100% in.” You nod, but you’re not really listening. You can’t hear anything other than your heartbeat. 

He likes you. 

Owen likes you.

Owen kissed you. 

“It’s always been you, Y/N.” You smile. It’s a big one that you have to hamper down by biting your lip. Owen smiles back, then you’re kissing again. 

And again. 

And again.

[moxfirefly]

I!! Have an request!! If you want, thats up to you! But how about the turtles have a friend (the reader) and no matter what they see hints of or how it seems she just doesnt seem to be in a relationship ever and then leo starts acting "odd" (in love) and one day michelangelo of all people catches leo and the reader in a romantic (or heated) moment! What do you think would happen? How would they handle their older brother in love? 😂 i just thought itd be a funny one-shot

Ok I’ve been wanting to tackle this for a while now and ima do my best for you friend, also I hope this reaches cause I know it’s been tough so I send you lots of love💕

Blue boi all in lovey dovey

Rated Mature (Romance but will a little sprinkle of smut) 18+ Only

Raphael squinted his eyes.

For the past twenty-two minutes he’d been wondering what was wrong with this picture. His breakfast was getting cold and he’d even neglected to smack Mikey’s hand away when he stole a piece of bacon off his place.

Raphael took pride in his observation skills, often he noticed plenty of things in his environment but while Donatello ran commentary on it he usually kept the information to himself. He shared a room with his youngest brother so he knew any odd shift when it came to Mikey. He is very close with Donnie, spending a few sleepless nights by his side while the genius tinkered away at projects, even lending a hand here and there.

Leonardo for all of his hard headed ways and their personality clashes, he felt he knew him well enough too. The leader though, was much more guarded in his emotions which made for some difficult moments to completely gage his older brother.

You on the other hand were an open book, plenty of times he’d spent time with you, getting to know plenty of your ticks and thoughts. Raph considered you a close friend, a confidant he could turn to.

But as you all sat together for a late breakfast. Mikey inhaling his while Donnie’s overworked eyes looked into his coffee cup as if lifes answers laid there, Leo and you were just sitting there, suspiciously.

You were still in your sleep wear, Leo’s groggy movements mechanical as he ate on autopilot. You yawned reaching for a coffee refill and without command or hesitation Leo had pushed the creamer and sugar towards you, going so far to place the exact amount of both in your mug. You had given him a sweet smile, reaching a hand to thumb a crumb away from the corner of his mouth.

Raphael raised a brow ridge, well naturally that could translate to common kindness. You all knew each other, often April had in some form or shape probably done something similar. He poked a few pieces of eggs into his mouth, now he was intrigued.

He picked up a few more instances where his curiosities got the better of him.

For instance one afternoon while you were over he had decided to gather info. Raphael had kitchen duty and you had stuck around to help him out. “What’s up with you?” A common not so invasive question, you shrugged. “Same old, same old” You gathered plates to set the table. Raphael kept his gaze at the task at hand, cutting tomatoes for the sauce he was preparing. “Yeah but have you done anything? Gone out with friends? Maybe found your future husband?” He chuckled even more so when you nudged him with an elbow. “A forget you have a sense humor under all that angst” Raph smiled, the two of you often bickered Iike this.

Truth be told you had never mentioned a boyfriend or a girlfriend, the subject was never really breached. With the amount of time you spent in the sewers with them it never came up if you had some partner or if you even were dating. Raphael added the tomatoes into a pot, you joined his side ready to help with more cutting of condiments.

Then Leo arrived and he felt the air shift, he peaked a glance at you, a small smile playing on your lips. Leo in turn greeting the two of you before he made his way towards the fridge to retrieve something to drink. “Want something?” He asked from the fridge and honest to God Raph was very sure he wasn’t asking him. You nodded extending a hand for the soda he gave you, he leaned against the fridge and chatted you up as nonchalant as ever.

Nothing in the small chat raised any flags, Raph’s sauce almost burning from how intently he was concentrating of quite literally eavesdropping on you two. You laughed at something he mentioned, that was bizarre because Leo was seriously not even funny but he could be biased on that end.

“Your hair looks pretty that way” Leo spoke, a tad bit shyly. Raph stirred the sauce, brow ridges shooting up, ‘real smooth big bro’ he couldn’t help but think. Then again he had probably at some point told April the same thing, well they all had commented on April being pretty in all manners of ways.

But this felt just the taddest bit different?

He excused himself having to get back to whatever he was doing. Raph squatted to get something from the bottom cupboards, he didn’t miss the blush on your cheeks.

“Yer hair does look nice like that” He tested, you beamed brightly at him. “Thank you, you’re very sweet when you put your heart into it” She teased smacking a hand towel at him.

Inconclusive results.

For now.

This stupid notion continued to bother Raphael, curiosity would kill the turtle in this case. He wanted to know if truly something was amiss there and you both being friends he wondered why you just hadn’t flat out told him what was up. Nevertheless he couldn’t drop the bomb on you, you could be motorfide or maybe deny it to high hell. Asking Leonardo was out of the question, he sure as hell wouldn’t say a thing.

So Raphael kept his gaze glued as you parted ways for the night. You gave a hug and kiss to everybody, quite normal for your loving nature. He got his hug and kiss, so did Donnie, April and Mikey. Once you landed on Leo you did the same.

He could’ve sworn you lingered a little more, going so far as to whisper something to him because Leo gave a little huff of a laughter and smiled. He definitely slid his hand away from your lower back quite slowly.

Maybe, just maybe...

One patrol night he got stuck with Leo while Mikey and Donnie were doing rounds on the truck. They were scouting out a bank that was rumored to be hit soon by a group of robbers. Raph didn’t mention you, in fact he patiently waited for these robbers to possibly show up.

Something vibrated and his gaze landed on Leo who was reaching a hand into his pocket to pull out his phone. His concentrated and serious featured softening with whatever he read on the screen. He typed back something quick, shaking his head from whatever image or words or whatever had been provoked out of him. “Everything good?” Raphael asked, Leo nodded as if back to ‘normal’ and that absolutely was suspicious in his book.

That night didn’t yield any resolution and honestly it’s around this time that Raph regrets this little task that had occupied his time. He had originally decided to leave it as inconclusive, at some point You two dummies had to say or do something. He had been rummaging his room for his hand wraps, more than ready to get his nightly workout in order. When he had come up empty handed he exited towards Leo’s room, he always had them which annoyed the red banded brute.

His first mistake was not knocking or making his incoming presence known. A rookie mistake considering he lived with three young adult brothers.

His second mistake was just barging in like he owned the place. An annoyed “Jesus Leo quick taking my shit” spewing out of him.

If mistakes One and Two had been adverted he wouldn’t be standing here, wide eyed and frozen.

Because he really didn’t need to see his brother stark ass naked on top of his best friend who he basically considered a little sister, equally naked to boot. There was a solid fifteen seconds where Raphael didn’t know if he running out was the best option, mumbling a ‘shit my bad’ was better or if covering his eyes and screaming at his brother that he better be a gentlemen to you cause you’re a great gal.

Leonardo’s hands cupped your exposed breast for modesty sake, the need for the ground to dramatically open up and swallow him whole heavy in his mind. You had squeaked when Raph barged in, hands super glued to Leo’s rear and god why couldn’t you scream and let go and scream some more.

Raphael finally turned around, an embarrassed heat breaking over his body as he groaned in disgust. “Shit fuck, sorry sorry! I didn’t see shit!” Oh but he did and oh did he crave bleach. “Raph get out! This is why you knock!” Leo chucked a pillow at his brothers shell. You had finally let go of Leo’s rear, covering your face in mortification. “Hang a sock or something outside then!! I can’t read minds!” Raph bellowed.

Mistake number 3 happened because Raphael was a drama Queen through and through and the shouting only helped to alert his brothers towards the room.

“Can you two not fight for five whole minu-OH GOD SORRY!” Donatalleo had exited as quickly as he had approached the room. Mikey thankfully barely saw anything since Raph and Donnie yanked him out which Leo was thankful, he knew Mikey would never let this situation go.

A very quiet hour passed by.

Nobody wanting to say anything. Mikey had left for the tunnels to skateboard for a while. Donnie had thrown himself into truck repairs not even wanting to discuss what his eyes had briefly seen.

And Raphael had sat on the couch, every few minutes making a face whenever his brain decided to bring back the nights events. He heard movement from Leo’s room, the small pitter patter that belonged to your feet. Raph kept his gaze down, whatever playing on the tv long forgotten, he saw your feet when they tentatively approached the couch.

“Um Raph” Your tone was hushed.

“Didn’t see anything, matter of fact nothing happened” Raph grabbed the remote, you sat down and sighed. “Listen you weren’t the one with your tits out here” You crossed your arms grumbling, Raph almost chortled but then he remembered Leo and simply made a face.

“Why didn’t you tell me you and him were a thing? We’re friends, I mean you can do better but you know” He smiled when he felt your elbow smack his arm. “He’s really nice don’t be so mean” You sat back on the corner, Raph looked at you, you were wearing an oversized shirt clearly spending the night.

“Sorry for ah, not knocking” Raph spoke softly.

“Sorry for no telling you I had it bad for your brother” You smirked, enjoying Raph’s disgruntled expression.

You scooted close and hugged his massive arm, Raph smiled. “He better be good to ya... and well, don’t break his heart, he’s an ass but he’s my big brother” You nodded against his arm.

You had stayed for a little before returning back to Leo’s room, the leader was reading on his bed but quickly looked up when you came in. “Everything alright?” He asked tentatively. You nodded climbing into bed and in between his legs to lay on him. “We could’ve so gone a better way telling everybody, at least it’s out and we can just be ourselves” You rested against him, Leo’s chin a top your head.

He wrapped his arms tightly around you and smiled. “I’m never living this down but I’m happy we can just be ourselves” He poked your sides earning an earnest squeal from you.

Outside Raphael could hear the quiet giggling and laughter. He was happy for the two of you, it made sense.

Mikey walked in, board in hand and sweaty from skating for hours.

“So Leo loses his V card first, huh brah?”

Raphael groaned.

[im-totally-not-an-alien]

Final Fantasy 7 prompts no 72

1. Cloud definitely underestimated Angeal and Genesis. He was barely holding his own against the two, and that was before Sephiroth came. Now his only option was to retreat...

2. "Cloud," the silverette ground out, having lost his original baritone, "whatever you did- undo it."

Huffing softly to himself, he reached down and picked up the now eight year old warrior, carrying him on his hip. "Oh, I plan to. Somehow." After all, Cloud couldn't bring himself to kill a kid...even one as evil as his nemesis.

3. Cloud tensed when he felt arms wrap around him, lifting his torso from the damp soil.

Opening his eyes was far more difficult than it should have been.

"SOLDIER! Can you hear me? Respond!"

"...soldier?" Cloud couldn't remember why he was here...or even his name really. Why was this man carrying him and what was Shinra?

4. Cid and Shera are expecting a baby, and both are super excited. Also everything is space themed regardless of gender.

Clouds stalkers, erm, "fan club" somehow got ahold of a video of him oh so carefully folding baby clothes before putting them back on the rack. They think the dainty and careful way he handles the baby stuff is adorable.

Cloud is mortified.

Cid just slapped him on the back and told him he better get thier kid something cute.

5. Insane Sephiroth meeting Eldrich Cloud in another dimention.

"What's in it for me?"

An innocent question, if not for the fact Sephiroth had just asked him to commit mass genocide. Still, this was a situation he had been dreaming of for years now. His crush puppet was finally willing to follow his strings.

The silverette never noticed the predatory look the blond gave him. By the time he realized he was in over his head, it was far too late.

6. With AVALANCHE gone and the W.R.O. in shambles, Cloud and Sephiroth agree to set aside thier differences to fight a common enemy.

Sephiroth is overjoyed and Cloud is just grateful hes only been called "puppet" a measly three times this week

7. Cloud repeatedly tazing Sephiroth while the former General just smiles down at him, unaffected.

Clouds a little scared, ngl

8. Reeve Tueski being a disaster Bi.

Hes getting crushes on ALL of his targets, which is the worst possible outcome for a spy. He didn't even know he was Bi before this gods dammit!

What's worse is that his type is apparently Super Hot Eco-Terrorists

He's doomed.

9. Cloud is injured and dying, causing Sephiroth to panic.

Mother will fix this, he thought to himself, I just have to get him to her and everything will be fine.

He refused to lose the only thing that was ever truly his

10. After a "Mini" spell gone awry, Genesis is left the size of an action figure.

He makes a bad situation worse by putting on a pair of devil horns (where did those even come from?) And carrying around a tiny pitchfork. He proceeded to drop down onto peoples shoulders and torment them.

Angeal wants to help, he really does, but he can't. Stop. Laughing.

Zack: Whoa! Who are you?

Genesis: You're inner demon :}

Zack: Aww, you're adorable!!!

Genesis:

Genesis: OK. I'll admit I wasn't expecting that, but thank you.

Genesis: Now go blow up that thing over there.

11. Sephiroth is knocked into an alternate reality and swaps places with the Sephiroth of that world.

He wakes up in a bed with a familiar blond shaking his shoulder, "Cmon, Mother is waiting for us downstairs."

Needless to say, Seph is a little confused, but goes with it anyway. Turns out, the Sephiroth of this world lives with his five younger brothers: Weiss, Cloud, Kadaj, Loz and Yazoo. All of whom serve thier mother, the dark goddess Jenova, who dotes on them incessantly.

Cloud was born prematurely, meaning he came out "underbaked". The Sephiroth of this world had apparently promised mother to coddle protect him. He can do that too...maybe...

Meanwhile, in the other universe:

Our Cloud: I can feed myself dammit!

Other Sephiroth: That's good to hear. Now open your mouth.

AVALANCHE is too busy laughing and taking pictures to help

12. Tifa introduced her new "SOLDIER-killer" drinks to Cloud right before she left with the kids to meet up with Barret for the weekend

Cloud didn't think anything of it at first, but apparently the more mako you have in your body, the more the drink affects you. After three drinks Cloud was giggling like a schoolgirl. Thats when the worst possible thing happens.

Sephiroth shows up...but Cloud was too drunk to care. The blond managed to convince Sephiroth to have one drink. One!

Then they woke up three days later in a Vagas hotel room with massive hangovers, matching tattoos and wedding bands.

The former General is staring at the wall in shock while Cloud is still trying to figure out where "Navada" is on Gaias maps and how he's never heard of it before

Aka You ever get so drunk you marry your arch nemesis and transcend dimensions with them?

13. Dadesis with tiny time traveling terror versions of Shelua and Shelke.

Team mom Angeal is parent of the year while Sephiroth looms awkwardly in the background cause Shelke is terrified of him. Poor Seph.

14. Time traveler Cloud thrown into DeepGround

15. Children keep giving Cloud chocobo merchandise and all his friends keep teasing him about it.

[aremiies]

DRUMMER BOY.

pairings: drummer!bakugou x gn!leadsinger!reader

warnings: swearing, fluff, incorrect!bakugou (i think), bad writing

other: band au. song prompt (i wanna be yours by arctic monkeys.)

notes: long over due part two, ik, ik. even though the first part of this was a fem!reader, i wanted to make this gn. ok thats it, enjoy <3

part one .

not my gif !

—

it’s been less than a month after the bands gig at rolling red, and they’d all begged you to stay. after the performance, an owner of another lounge had asked for you guys to play at his establishment. of course, you all said yes and now you had three weeks until you played there. all had been going pretty well. you, mina and jirou were working on a new song to sing since you thought repetitiveness with your performances may give you a bad rep. the three of you sat in the break room of the music store brainstorming. it was quiet; the only sound being the soft tapping of the mechanical pencil on the notepad in front of you.

mina broke the somewhat silences when she threw her arms up in frustration, “ugh! i cant think of anything else!”

“yeah,” you nodded in agreement “neither can i...”

“okay, we’ve been thinking about this for a while, i think we deserve a break. c’mon let’s go see what the guys are doing.” jirou suggested after a few more moments. you and mina agreed, you placed the pencil down and proceeded to the front of the store where you saw kaminari, bakugou and kiri beginning to close.

“yo, guys!” mina greeted the three, “need any help?”

over the last two or so weeks, you’d come to love the pink haired girl. her positive, bubbly attitude was exactly the thing you needed in your life sometimes. she was a breath of fresh air when you were stressed, and always knew exactly what to say when you were upset.

kaminari, who’d been sweeping the floor, turned his attention to the three of you,”oh hey guys! you were so quiet back there i forgot about you.” he chuckled.

“he’s right. i kind of forgot you three were here. did you get any good lyrics down?” kirishima added as he finished sanitizing the instruments that’d been used throughout the day.

you sighed, “we got a few lines down, but for some reason we literally can’t think of anything.” you could hear bakugou’s “tch.” from his place by the front door.

“you think you need help?” kiri asked putting down the disinfectant wipes he’d been using.

“yeah actually, do you think you guys may be able to?” jirou asked the trio, to which they obviously agreed.

the six of you then made your way to the back practice room and shut the door, this was about the time you guys had rehearsals anyway, so you were right on schedule more or less.

“okay, so this is what we have so far,” you began, sliding the notepad in the middle of the table for everyone to see.

as the boys quickly read over the lyrics, you watched bakugou’s eyebrows furrow and un-furrow. you watched as he took his bottom lip in between his teeth as if he was thinking; deciphering the lyrics, wondering what they meant.

“well first of all,” the blonde mumbled under his breath, “this is actually... okay progress. you guys have gotten pretty far with lyrics for this to be a new song.”

“thank you!” mina beamed while you just smiled at his attempt at a compliment.

“so, i’m guessing this is a love song?” kirishima spoke up.

you went stiff when you heard kiri’s question. you wouldn’t say love, no, that would be way too strong of a word for your liking. you thought of it more of having a somewhat pining for someone you found attractive; in both ways, not just one.

you felt mina and jirou look over to you, waiting on you to answer. 

you let a nervous chuckle escape your lips, “w-well... i don’t know, i wouldn’t call it a love song-”

“oh, come on. the phrase ‘i wanna be yours’ ? that tells me everything i need to know honestly.” kaminari teased.

“no, no, it’s just.. no. it’s just a song.” you tried to explain.

“the lyrics are nothing short of what someone would write when they’re in love.” kiri joined in on the teasing.

“and if it’s just a song, why are the lyrics so heartfelt? these seem like you’re speaking from experience. who is it?” bakugou chimed in.

mina and jirou kept quiet, though they did have an idea or two as to who it was about. 

“okay, okay, first of all, love is way too strong of a word.” you rolled your eyes.”i prefer a somewhat attraction to said person.”

you felt your face get hotter and hotter with each second the five teens spent looking at you. so what if it was a love song? was it really that big of a deal; not that it really mattered, but you swore that if you had to endure another second of what seemed like judgmental silence, you were gonna combust.

“guys, leave the poor thing alone,” jirou and shook her head and put a hand on your shoulder.

you somewhat smiled in relief.

“let them be in love in peace!” you heard the girl finish with a teasing tone laced in her voice.

you rolled your eyes once more, “okay, okay! let’s just figure out some more lyrics.” the rest of the team agreed, scooting their chairs closer to the table as you all began to brainstorm.

 after half an hour of brainstorming and making a little more progress, bakugou spoke up, “wait- y/n, do you guys even know what you want the instrumental to sound like? do you have chords written down?” he raised a brow, waiting for your answer, though he already knew what you were going to say.

“uh.. no, we don’t, but we’re working on it.” you assured.

he gave a soft “mhm” before he tilted his head back and to the side before running a hand through his striking blonde hair, sliding the hand down to his cheek where he then began to rest his head in it. 

you watched his movements intently with your mouth slightly agape, wondering just how the hell someone could be so pretty. how he could manage to look so good doing the most mundane of things. asking yourself how could he be so mesmerizing without even trying. 

you snapped your mouth shut the second you saw his crimson eyes meet your (eye color) ones. you felt your mouth get abnormally dry as you watched him look you up and down before meeting your eyes again. you felt as if your heart was about to drop into the pit of your stomach, you were sure the others could hear it beating. it felt as if this moment had been going on for hours when it’d really only been about 15 seconds. you felt tingles flow throughout your body as you watched an almost unnoticeable smirk make it’s way across his lips. a smirk nobody else could’ve possibly seen unless they were staring at him as hard as you were. and that’s when you looked away, finally taking the liberty to compose yourself.

‘since when did any guy have this affect on me?’ you asked yourself.

when you finally zoned back in, you noticed the room was unusually quiet, you turned to look at the rest of the teens who were either focused on you, or bakugou.

oh. they noticed.

“the hell was that-?” mina spoke up, turning her head from bakugou to look over at you.

“were you guys speaking telepathically or some shit?” kaminari chimed in which earned a stifled laugh from kiri and jirou.

“staring contest.” bakugou said with a small smile patent on his lips, his eyes still trained on you features. 

you looked towards the boy once more upon hearing his voice, “yeah. exactly.”

__

about an hour later everyone had decided that it was time for the six of you to go home and get some rest. you agreed, although you somewhat wanted to continue writing, considering you made little progress today. nonetheless, you grabbed your bag and made your way out the practice room. as you made your way to the front door, you noticed that among the rest of the teens, bakugou wasn’t there. 

you furrowed your brows and stopped before turning back around towards the practice room, “hold on guys, i think i’m gonna stay a bit longer.” you notified your friends. 

upon making it back to the practice rooms, you spotted bakugou sitting in the same spot, looking over the lyrics with a pencil in his hand. you watched as he would hum something before thinking it over and writing it down. it seemed that he already had an idea of what he wanted the song to sound like. he seemed content, and you found yourself sitting there for much longer than you had originally planned. 

“hey,” you piped up.

he looked towards the door to find you leaning against the frame, “what?”

“you okay? er... need any help?” you inquired, walking over to the table and taking a spot in the chair next to him.

“i mean, i guess... i kinda got a few more things down.” he shrugged as he slid the notepad over to you and let you read what he’d wrote down.

not to say that you’d underestimated the boy, but you didn’t think that he’d grasp the theme of the song this well; you just didn’t think that it was his type of song.

“you grasped this way better than i thought you would.” you said to him.

he raised a brow, “what’d you think? that i don’t understand feelings of infatuation? love?”

“oh... no, no, no that’s not what i was tying to say at all. i’m sorry if it came off that way.”

bakugou let out a small chuckle, “i’m joking, dumbass. i understand.”

it went silent for a second before you broke it, “so you understand what the song’s about?”

“of course i do, i’m not stupid. i just wanna know who it’s about.” he turned to look at you, “who’s it about?”

once again you felt your mouth get dry and your heard your heartbeat in your ears. you felt your hands get sweaty and-

“you don’t have to answer, y’know. i can see you getting nervous.”

you made a face that said “huh?” before you answered, “i’m not.” you lied. “besides, you keep asking me who it’s about, when i feel like you have a hunch...” 

he gave you a look before chuckling a bit and looking back to the notepad in front of you. though he looked confident, he was sweating bullets. every alarm in his head was going off saying that the song was about him, not that those alarms were wrong, but he kept on thinking ‘what if they are?’ 

like i said: they weren’t.

“and if i do?” he replied.

now it was your turn to seem confident, “i would tell you to tell me who you think it is.” you said as you rested your elbow on the table and gazed at him.

bakugou felt the tips of his ears turn the lightest shade of pink as his eyes set on you and your expression. did you have any idea what you did to this poor boy?

spoiler: you did.

the both of you stared at each other in silence, just as you’d did before. you waited for bakugou to answer you, while bakugou waited for the courage he needed to do so.

“y/n,” he began

“hm?”

“me?” 

you raised a brow, “what about you?” you asked, already knowing what he meant.

“ugh i- the song... is it about me?”

“let’s finish it and maybe you’ll find out.” you tilted your head and gave him a smile before grabbing the pencil from his hand.

__

two weeks later and two days away from the gig, you and bakugou once again found yourselves in the company of just each other as you finalized the lyrics and chords to the song. 

“i really do like working with you.” you broke the silence the two of you were currently in.

bakugou nearly dropped the guitar he was sturmming, “huh? you mean like... the band?”

you shrugged, “i mean, yeah, them too, but when we stay after together? i really enjoy it.”

bakugou swallowed thickly. what was he supposed to say back? it’s not like he didn’t enjoy working one on one, quite frankly it was one of the only things he looked forward to in the day besides going home. 

“i know it’s kind of weird for me to say that, sor-”

“no.” he interrupted.

“what?”

“i mean, don’t apologize. i really like it too...” he mumbled.

a smile involuntarily made it’s way onto your face.

“also,” he continued, “your progress has been... really good... you’re doing a really good job and i just thought you should know that.”

“well that’s only because i had a really blunt, but amazing teacher to help me.” you smiled at him.

bakugou looked at you and your smile, his face softening at the sight.

since when did you become so pretty?

he spared you a glance and shook his head softly, your smile was utterly contagious.

“yeah, yeah. let’s just run through this; make sure everything’s where it needs to be.” he instructed, to which you nodded, grabbed your bass and walked over to him.

you sat down on the floor next to him then looked at him once again, waiting for his cue. bakugou looked back, having to compose himself before he got lost in your gaze.

he then gave you said cue, and the two of you strummed the beginning chords together. nothing except the comforting sounds of the notes filling the atmosphere around you two. and as the two of you continued, bakugou found a smile beginning to grow on his sharp features. he didn’t bother to try and stop it, either.

 why would he? he’d never thought that he’d enjoy these moments with you as much as he did. whenever you two would have these one on one’s, he felt as if time was of no essence; as if nothing and nobody else mattered except the two of you. by the time the song ended, the boy was full on grinning. 

“that was good!” you beamed at him, “what did you think?”

bakugou nodded, “you did- i mean we did great. it sounded amazing.”

“ready to go?” you asked as you began to pack up.

he nodded silently as he did the same.

“you don’t have to talk me home this time, i can tell you’re tired.” you told him before you exited.

“you sure?” he questioned. he would feel somewhat guilty if you were to walk home alone in the dark, but you assured him that it was okay. then, you bid your goodbye’s and you gave him a short hug, eventually the two of you locked up the store and parted ways.

--

the night of the performance, you found yourself backstage with the rest of your friends and the people on stage wrapped up their set. 

“you guys nervous?” kaminari asked as he paced back and forth, he couldn’t seem to keep himself still.

“not gonna lie...” jirou began, “kinda... i mean, this place is much bigger than the last, and who knows who could be out there.”

mina perked up, “you’re right! that’s all the more reason to do our bests. we’ve all worked our asses off these past three weeks, and it shows. it doesn’t matter how good or bad someone else thinks we sound, because at the end of the day, nobody else’s opinion matters but ours. plus we sound fucking amazing, so fuck any and everybody who says we don’t.”

“mina is right. we’ve all made amazing progress, and we sound amazing,” bakugou spoke up, “there’s no reason to be nervous. so... just don’t fuck it up on the day it actually counts.”

a couple of laughs were shared at bakugou’s attempt at a pep talk, and then, as if on cue, your band name was announced onstage, signalling for you all to come on out. you looked over at bakugou, who for some reason was already looking at you, and smiled and encouraging smile. one to which his face couldn’t help but soften at.

when the six of you made it to the front stage, there was a welcoming applause. you all waved at the faces in the crowd before taking your places and getting everything set.

moments later, you were ready, and bakugou was giving his famous drummer count off.

the beat was slow and comforting. you could hear each note that everyone was playing perfectly. you swayed to the sound the instruments made while simultaneously trying to keep the note up on your own. then, you took a step toward the microphone and began to sing the first lyrics. 

your voice come out smooth, as if it was some type of silk. although you were nervous as shit, you made it seem effortless. with mina and jirou’s supporting vocals in the background, everything sounded heavenly; just as you knew it would.

bakugou however, could only focus on the sound of your voice. he couldn’t hear anything else but the sound of you singing. in his eyes, nobody else was in the room besides you and him, and he swore thinking about the current situation in that way made him less nervous. watching you sway left and right as the next lyrics rolled off your tongue readily with your eyes closed and the stage lights shining on you just right? you looked incredible.

“secrets i have held in my heart, are harder to hide than i thought. maybe, i just wanna be yours,”

the sirens in the blonde boys head were once again going crazy, and as he leaned up to his mic for leading vocals, he felt as if his heart was going to beat out of his chest. he was absolutely positive that everyone in the audience could see how hard he was staring at you.

the thoughts of your one on one’s, your smile and you in general swarmed his thoughts, and by this point, he wanted nothing more than to be yours and yours only.

“ i wanna be your setting lotion, hold your hair in deep devotion. at least as deep as the pacific ocean; i wanna be yours.”

the whole time you sang, you felt eyes boring into the back of your head, but you knew who it was. bakugou staring at you as if you might disappear if he looked away may or may not have put a tinge of confidence in your play style as well as the way you sang.

oh, and the crowd? they loved it.

the loved the song, they loved the way you all played. you all could tell they were really enjoying this.

soon the song ended and the audience gave you the applause you all deserved. you grinned as you all made your ways backstage where you all joined in a group hug. 

“oh, y/n you did great !” kirishima complimented you, putting a hand on your shoulder. 

“me?! you guys sounded amazing, don’t give me all the credit !” you gushed.

eventually, the group dispersed, and bakugou saw this as his chance to approach you. he was sweating, and he had no idea if it was because of the stuffiness of the air backstage or if he was genuinely nervous about what he was planning on doing. “y/n,” he started.

you looked up from your phone, eyes brightening as they made contact with bakugou’s own, “oh, bakugou, you did really good out there y’know? you were the main one i heard when you guys did the back-up vocals. you sounded amazing.” you praised.

“oh shut up, it was all you. your voice is gorgeous, y’know.” he stated. 

you felt your cheeks heat up at his words, something about bakugou complimenting you in such a way made you feel warm inside, “thank you. that means alot coming from you.”

“i- uh... i still have one question...” the boy quipped

“go on.”

“who? who was the song about... you never told me.”

you felt a small smirk find it’s way onto your lips, “and who did you say you thought the song was about?”

bakugou swallowed hardly, “m- me.” he said, clearing his throat mid-way through.

“and what if i told you it was?” you implied, inching your face closer to his.

you watched bakugou’s cheeks turn pink before he replied, “i’d say... i wanna be yours.”

you took that as your invite to connect your lips together. the moment bakugou felt your warm lips on his, he didn’t waste another second before he kissed you back. you ran a hand up the back of his head as the kiss continued, and bakugou swore he was in heaven.

once you broke away, you looked at him with a teasing smile, “you be mine, and i’ll be yours?”

“deal.”

--

i had absolutely no idea ho to end this, but i hope you enjoyed <3

[blush-and-books]

For the celebration ask: canonverse, comfort, confession, flower

Also, congrats on almost or actually reaching 1.5k ❤️

Thank you so much for this ask, my darling!! I kinda went off. not healthy when i have so many of these to do but oh well. i had a very vivid idea so thank you!!!!!

So, maybe it was one of those days for Julie. 

They had become more and more few and far between since the boys came into her life, but occasionally, her brain couldn’t help it. Her mood would be soured for no reason besides the fact that she missed her mother, and sometimes it wasn’t even that -- she just wanted to cry with no purpose behind it. It was pent up emotion that needed to be let out, and anything from a sympathetic look from Flynn to Tia bringing her hot cocoa with whipped cream (Julie hates whipped cream) would set her off into a sobbing frenzy. 

The band had yet to see her like this until today. 

They could all tell that something was up since that morning -- especially Luke -- when Julie came in the garage to say goodbye before school, and could barely look any of them in the eyes. 

“Hey,” Luke pulled away a little quicker than usual, reaching up to cup her face in his hands. “You okay?”

Pathetically, she nodded. “Just tired,” her unconvincing voice reported. 

But he still saw the tears in her eyes as she grabbed her backpack and turned away. 

After that, it became his personal mission to find a way to cheer her up when she came home. He knew that she wouldn’t want him making a big deal about her mood or going out of his way to be disgustingly sweet to her. Julie Molina does not want to be coddled.

Luke can, however, make her smile. 

He toils over what he can do for her that won’t make her punch him in the face and run -- he decides, eventually, on getting her some flowers, and setting up some of her favorite music on the garage stereo, and covering the couch in blankets and pillows for her to crawl into when she gets back from school. 

(Yes, she could technically go to her bed, but if he can get her to stay in the garage then thats where he wants her.)

He even goes through the trouble of sneaking her favorite cookies from the pantry without Ray noticing the pack floating out of the house. 

Everything is pretty easy to set up except for the flowers. He wants to get her dahlias, but he wants to get her more -- like the big bouquets that have five kinds of flowers and weigh a few pounds. It isn’t until he has teleported between grocery stores and farmer’s markets that Luke realizes trying to sneakily swipe a bouquet and poof away before anyone notices will cause the kind of chaos that Julie hates. 

So he settles on finding some nice local gardens instead. 

He’s as gentle as he can be as he rips some of the foliage from the ground and different pots, finding dahlias and lilies and hydrangeas and honeysuckle and tulips. As soon as Luke returns to the Molina house, he washes them off with the hose in the back, and ties them together to make a bouquet with a stray shoelace from one of Alex’s old pairs of shoes.

Soon enough, it’s almost 3, and Julie should be home from school at any moment. 

Luke falls into a panic as he hears the car pull up -- Reggie and Alex left because they didn’t want to overwhelm her with too much attention, and Luke doesn’t know if Julie will even come by the garage if she’s been having such a bad day-

But one of the garage doors opens, and he is gripping the bouquet with an iron fist, and Julie’s hunched frame enters the space with a solemn look. 

When she notices him, and the music playing and the flowers in his hands and the comfy setup on the couch, her lip trembles. 

“He- Hey, Boss,” Luke tries to greet her, terrified that he has seriously made her day worse. “I- I- I just thought you might need to relax today, so I wanted the place to be ready  by the time you got home, and t- th- th- the flowers were just something I thought you might-”

Julie bursts into tears that she seems to have been holding in all day. She’s so distraught that her backpack is still weighing down her shoulders as she lifts her hands to wipe her tears, and Luke charges towards her with the flowers in hand to slide the straps off of her shoulders and pull her into a hug. The backpack hits the floor with a thud. 

“I’m sorry,” Luke mumbles, half-heartbroken, into her hair. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to make you smile. I didn’t mean to upset you, I’m-”

“I’m sorry,” the girl in his arms sobs into his chest. Her broken voice cracks Luke’s heart and he somehow attempts to hold her closer, feeling his own tears well as she shakes against him. “I’m sorry. It isn’t you, I’ve just felt so bad all day, and I’ve been so close to crying, and now I come home and you’re trying to make me feel better and-”

Her own cries cut her off. All Luke can think to do is softly shush her and run his right hand over her hair, as if it can help. He doesn’t know what will help -- he just knows he wants her to stop crying. 

“I’m not upset that you did this, I just- When I feel like this, any little thing, good or bad, will get me to cry. You literally could have smiled at me and I might have reacted the same way. It’s just so sweet, and sometimes I love you so much it hurts. Thank you for doing this.”

As desperately as he wants to immediately question her on the fact that she just told him she loves him so much that it hurts, he can tell now is definitely not the time to deep-dive into that. 

So he lays a kiss on the side of her head, and the soothing motions of his right hand continue. “Well, that makes two of us. I love you so much that all I thought about all day was making you happy again. I didn’t know what to do.”

Julie lets out a shaky exhale into his chest, followed by a sniffle. 

“You did everything perfectly,” she croaks as she lifts her head and slightly pulls away from him. His left arm comes in between them with the bouquet of flowers, and Julie looks down at them with a weak smile. “Where did you get these? Whose shoelace is this?”

“You have some very generous neighbors,” he vaguely explains. “And… Alex’s. So you should probably get those in a vase so I can put the shoelace back before he gets home.”

In any other situation, she would probably yell at him about the flower thing. But he only sees her smile wider as she takes them from his possession, and looks down at them like they are a precious heirloom. “Okay,” she nods, wiping her eyes. “I will.”

“And then when you get back, we can do whatever you feel like.”

Julie eyes the comfy arrangement on the couch behind him, and the pack of cookies on the coffee table.

“Like cuddle and nap and eat?”

He notices that she finally looks relieved. Not perfectly happy and sunshiney -- but like she’s getting there. To maybe even score a laugh, he darts over to the couch and leaps onto it, toppling some of the pillows. “For as long as you want, Boss! I’ll be waiting.”

After a few minutes, she’s back; speedwalking over to the couch and crawling under the blankets and into his arms like she has been programmed to do so. 

“Thank you,” she whimpers into his neck as she rests her eyes shut. The notion of being thanked is so ridiculous to him, because-- Because there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for her. 

“I’d do anything for you, Julie. You know that.”

The hum he feels against his collar bone is all that he needs to know she is finally content, after a long day of searching for peace.