anonymous asked: Can I get something like where you’re pregnant with Yoongi’s baby and he’s just all about your bump and super into it? Maybe it’s been a bit upsetting because you’re not married and the baby was an accident, but he finally has come to terms with it and is so ready for you to have the baby and you wake up and he’s just hugging your stomach or something? I don’t know… Work your magic, the last Yoongi thing was great!
It was a slight tickle against your growing belly that first drew you from your fitful sleep, the warmth of humid breath caressing the now exposed skin. Confused, your eyebrows furrow in annoyance, your body attempting to adjust itself as you twist your aching back.
Just as you’re drifting off again you feel the sensation once more, followed by a puckering of wetness, the unmistakable sound of lips connecting with your stomach meeting your ears. Your eyes open, still hazy with sleep, as they take in the sight of Yoongi’s face nestled closely against your swollen abdomen, whispering words that couldn’t quiet reach your ears over the taught flesh. You feel your baby move inside you, stirring at her father’s words, and your heart skips a beat at the intimacy of the sight you were taking in.
You don’t disturb him, instead watching as his lips press against the stretch marks dotting your flesh, heavy bangs falling over his eyes as his hand shifts close to his face, expanding his palm to rub soft, soothing circles over your inflated stomach. Your baby’s strong movements settle instantly, comfort apparently seeping through her unborn body at her father’s touch. Another kiss dots your skin, before more murmured words, his head tilting to the side to press his ear into your stomach as if to listen for a reply. A particularly strong kick sends his face shooting upward, surprise etched in his risen brows as his now wide eyes stare down at your stomach.
It isn’t until a giggle escapes your lips at his reaction that he turns to you, eyes meeting yours and a blush creeping into his cheeks at being caught. His face darkens, his body sitting itself up and shifting away from yours.
Walking through the platform I breathed in fresh air for the last time in this place, thinking my chances of returning for these reasons are slight, unnecessary even. Glancing around the aisle of the plane my eyes find a window seat. Being by the window was calming for me, it allowed me to get a glimpse at this limited view and offer a temporary escape from confinement. Sitting down after twelve paces I allow myself to breathe, let out a final breath before letting this consume me entirely for the day that awaits me.
It takes time before everyone has boarded, an elderly couple sit next to me, smiling widely with greetings as they continued their conversations, laughing as they went. Seeing them made my heart ache, how after all the innocence and tears, after ageing and laughter lines blending into the creases of age they still seem as in love as the day they first met. How they hold hands as the plane takes off and giggle as we go.
Tearing my eyes away I focus on the outside, seeing everyone become minuscule, irrelevant, something of the past. My hands involuntarily reach for the box that was stored in my bag beneath my feet, the difficulties I’ve overcome for this box in security, having to cry on a guard’s shoulder about my problems discreetly before stories on me crying over Luke came about. Yet somehow here it is, placed on my lap like some alien that I wish to no part in knowing.
Except I can’t tear my eyes from it, it’s a glue, a force that keeps on pulling me in. I’m scared, no petrified of what is inside, whether or not it will create more puzzle pieces that I’ll have to figure out and decode. Perhaps it’s a goodbye, an acceptance to our new selves and allowing the door to gently shut rather than slam abruptly. A pair of eyes burn into my skin, on my hands as I brush the smooth wood for the thousandth time, feeling myself grow heavy with anticipation I turn to see the lady smiling gently in my direction whilst her husband sleeps soundly like the majority of the cabin surrounding us.
“Love isn’t easy dear,” She begins as I glance down to the box in my hands that now feel dry, tired like the rest of me. “if it were there would be no fun to have.” I let out a small huff in response, smiling as I did. A cold hand was placed on top of mine, covered in marks to show all she had been through in her life, her veins remained prominent and the wrinkles showed clearer than the worry in my eyes. “Things, feelings, they take time to develop.” Her eyes tore from mine as she motioned to her sleeping love next to her. “You think I fell to my knees when this one first saw me? No way, I wasn’t willing to become some housewife.” A huff escaped her lips, I could see the glazed look in her eyes as if she were thinking back to the day they first met, part of me was curious to know what it must’ve been like then, how it must’ve been so different.
“What was it that made you change your mind?” I asked now fully intrigued.
A silent smile formed on her lips, the glint in her eyes grew as her husband’s hand remained on top of hers, even as he slept soundly. “Something that took my breath away.” Moving the hair out of my face I allowed myself to open the latch of the box at last, hearing the air that was trapped inside being released after who knows how long. “When it happens you just know it dear,” She rubbed my forearm sweetly like my mum would do when I was upset as a child after a difficult day at school. “and if it is inside of there then count yourself lucky.” Before I could ask anymore she hushed me, and pointed to the box before drifting off against her husband’s shoulder; such a simple act that was often overlooked yet seeing them at peace, in pure comfort with one another was enough for me to know now was the time.
Closing my eyes I heard a light squeak as I lifted the lid, allowing the hinges to work yet I was unsure on what to expect from this. Part of me thought there would be something bigger than what was in front of me, that there would be more than three pieces of paper. Raising an eyebrow I lifted the better quality piece out of the box first, it was addressed to me yet the handwriting lurked in the back of my memory.
It wasn’t his.
Opening it up it began with my name, it continued into something I didn’t expect, the neat writing that I had witnessed countless times during late night sessions in the studio, all of those times I saw notes he left on the instruments before a show. How neatly my name had been written with such accuracy and thought, this was something that they needed to do.
After the second date you and Luke shared we were the first to know how it went, actually the second to know as he told his brothers, my bad. He came into band practise with a wide smile that wouldn’t budge no matter how depressing the covers we tried were. Everything about him was different and when we took a break he could barely hold it in, he just beamed excitement over some girl he had met a few weeks prior who was unlike any girl he’d met before. He told us how genuine she was, she had humour that made him laugh without your presence required, he said you had this smile that comforted him when he felt upset or nostalgic. He only ever spoke wonders of you and never a bad word to your name.
This is why we were so confused to receive that phone call.
He kept swearing, mumbling excuses under his breath to us that we couldn’t understand. After a few minutes of incoherent nonsense he began to make sense, when he said those exact words, muttering how he did that to you, you of all people I wanted to punch a wall in the shape of his face. Never had I felt more frustrated that he threw away his opportunity to blossom with someone so ideal for him, someone who knew him prior to everything that happened for us, someone who knew the real him. All he said was he was sorry, he didn’t know what to do and that was when he became easily manipulated. It was horrible. We didn’t see him for a while and it was as if he wasn’t the guy we knew anymore, he became reckless, they became known and you were nothing but a memory he drank away.
It hurt us, it nearly killed his family to see him destroying himself like that whilst she smiled for photos without a second thought. He is getting better, withdrawal symptoms were expected but in that time he had being isolated from everyone he cared about and loved something else happened to him. No one is entirely sure but that look in his eyes faltered, and we weren’t able to stop the damages being done.
I guess I’m trying to tell you is that we, we all miss you. We miss you coming to visit us, listen to us play at the big arenas or in the garage like old times. I miss you listening to me about my worries or how you played games with Mike until the early hours of the morning. How you had patience for all of us no matter what was happening, you may have not seen it or thought about it too much since everything fell apart but we have.
If only we knew the impact of that day, the impact your name appearing in our minds for the first time and how special you would become, how dear you became to each and every one of us. Then I think we wouldn’t have mocked the baby of our group, we would’ve listened more and most importantly, we wouldn’t have let you go without a fighting chance.
We are so sorry, we wished things had a different outcome. We see the regret that lingers in his eyes when someone mentions your name on the off chance, how he freezes up. He can’t do this without you, we aren’t forcing you, or in anyway pressuring you to take him back willingly. We are telling you to listen for ten minutes, and then maybe have at least twelve shots with us, for old times sake.
Farewell nightingale, Ashton x
Wiping away my tears that continued to stain the paper, spreading his words that were neatly, precisely written. I wouldn’t have expected anything different from Ashton, he always had a way with words that made me curious. Yet now as I read over his words again and again I allow myself to memorise each and every line, wiping my face frantically to just stop seeming so pathetic to these strangers.
Letting out a shaky breath I neatly folded the letter, reforming the creases that he had made long ago. My eyes moved away from the box as I continued to blink away tears that seemed to be in an abundance, the sky seemed blurred above the clouds as if we were dreaming.
Everything felt like a dream as I focused on the peaceful pillows that remained below us, how delicate everything seemed below until you penetrate that barrier, you break through the dream and enter that all too painful reality.
Trying to focus on my hands as they continued to shake I picked up the next letter, my heart felt like it had returned to the familiar place in my throat, throbbing drastically as I recognised his rushed handwriting all too well.
Except as I began to open it up it wasn’t in the format predicted, then again with him I learnt to expect the unexpected. Even now he didn’t fail to surprise me, and as I looked to the letters in bold my breath hitched and everything froze, even the tears that rolled down my cheeks as I scanned the letters.
this was born from a conversation with my best friend on what we thought harry is like in bed. through a series of unfortunate events, this became. kinky shit. it gets weird sometimes. all fun and games (well, ya know, until someone gets hurt ;) )
WARNINGS :: this is a sub!harry so take that as you will but i don’t feel as though creativity should be censored. i believe we should all be mature enough to determine our intellect on if reading such a thing is a “good idea”. it’s all just imagination in the end, guys (-; also! lil thing to keep in mind – this is part one to percentage and i’m definitely going to be making a part two! and also, doesn’t really matter what you’re into but i definitely envisioned this as tmh/teenage dirtbag harold so yeahhhh
“What about you?” Y/N breaks his thoughts up before they can get any more detailed and he looks up to find her already staring back at him. Somehow they’ve gotten awfully close to one another.
“M-me?” His words are choppy with a thick accent as he tries desperately to hold on to every last ounce of sanity.
“Don’t see anyone else in the room, babe.”
It’s the tension in the room that calls for a serious reality check that neither Harry nor Y/N really want, no matter how utterly mad this whole proposition is. How’d they get here in the first place anyway? Neither knows the knowledge.
y/n likes control and harry likes to be controlled.
“Never much liked that bloke anyway,” Harry says with the roll of his eyes.
See, Harry was over at Y/N’s place, a late night studio session that went all the way till 2 am and Y/N’s apartment was only 10 minutes from the studio opposed to the 30 of Harry’s flat and one thing led to another and he ended up coming over.
On the occasion, Harry would have a run in with Y/N’s down-the-hall neighbor Lily who just adored Harry. A big fan you could say, but with how much Harry came over she got used to it and eventually it didn’t phase her that Harry Styles would occasionally stroll past her front door.
He came over a lot ever since Y/N moved to LA, you could say.
“Me either if I’m being quite honest,” She laughs an airy laugh as if she remembers everything wrong with him, “I mean, he was such an assshole, all he cared about was sex.”
And Harry would be disinterested in hearing about Y/N’s sex life if it weren’t for how whimsically she described things. Always a comedic one, her explaining things - no matter the circumstance - was no different.
She looks over at him then, a little furrow of her eyebrows because it’s not like he asked about her exes often, “He was such a dom, it was mental.”
That’s not exactly what Harry had in mind for what he thought Y/N was going to say. Did she not enjoy that kind of thing or?
“I remember telling Celeste (Y/N’s good friend/roommate from Uni, if Harry remembers correctly) about it one night and she told me to take this test-”
“Tell me it wasn’t a pregnancy test.” Harry presses with a boyish grin hiding the fact he’s slightly scared she could’ve had a pregnancy scare with a guy who didn’t care for her.
Her eyes get big, shaking her head rapidly, “No! Nothing of that sort, swear. Would’ve sued my birth control company or some shit. No, it was one of those sexual fantasy tests or whatever-”
Is she really talking about what he thinks she’s talking about?
“BDSM test?” His voice comes out much shakier than he wanted it to.
Harry would never associate vanilla and Y/N in the same sentence; she was very open to things. But he never really thought she would take the time to determine what exactly she was - much less ever tell him.
“Yeah and I felt so weird the whole time like I cleared my history and everything afterwords,” Harry would say even though she’s daring, she’s not explicit, “it actually opened my eyes to a lot though.”
Y/N was the kind of girl who knew what she wanted and she always seemed to get what she wanted. Back in school when she was young, she had a reputation of what some might call a - oh what the hell is it called? A bad bitch?
Something like that.
And so Harry always knew she would be the type to speak up for herself and never ever depend on a man to direct her life. What he didn’t know yet, however, was that she was the same in her bedroom affairs too.
“What did you get?” He asks in a teasing question as the cover up for his need for the knowledge.
“92% switcher. But then that didn’t make any sense because apparently I’m 84% dominant in that ratio.”
Harry swears he’s never viewed her this way. What, like someone so fuckable.
“Only 16% sub?” The way his words come out as an airy groan causes Y/N’s eyes to flicker over to his as a glint of lust flashes through.
“Apparently so. But even then I don’t give up control easily. Called me a ‘brat sub’.”
He swallows down on a dry mouth and he can’t comprehend the fact she’s literally everything he’s ever wanted. What the fuck, they’ve been friends, mates, wingmen for 5 bloody years and he’s just now figured out this information?
“What about you?” Y/N breaks his thoughts up before they can get any more detailed and he looks up to find her already staring back at him. Somehow they’ve gotten awfully close to one another.
“M-me?” His words are choppy with a thick accent as he tries desperately to hold on to every last ounce of sanity.
“Don’t see anyone else in the room, babe.”
It’s the tension in the room that calls for a serious reality check that neither Harry nor Y/N really want, no matter how utterly mad this whole proposition is. How’d they get here in the first place anyway? Neither knows the knowledge. And when it really comes down to it, Harry just thinks girls who like control are really fucking hot and Y/N thinks boys who can handle submission are really fucking hot.
Not to mention how damn quickly the mood had changed. Sexual tension floating through the air and it’s so thick neither can get a breath of fresh air.
“Did one of those tests a while ago,” he starts, Y/N listening with wide eyes and an intimidating smirk that has Harry going mad, “back before we met and it was only a bit after I met the boys. I thought it was dumb but Niall and Zayn kept teasin’ and so I just did the damn thing,”
He pauses when her hand rests on his thigh, a fire there he swears only the devil himself (or in this case, herself) could produce. She’s dangerously close to his bits and if he could scream he would. Her shorts (that always did drive him crazy) hike up as she leans closer into him and it’s revealing her fleshy thighs that Harry desperately wants to part and be sent to some sort of safe haven between her legs. She’s driving him mental.
“I’m listening.” She’s got a damn smirk dancing across her plump lips and Harry really doesn’t know what he’s gotten himself into.
It’s then that her eyes darken by a whole shade or two and her hand abruptly cups him through his jeans. The act is almost primal and Harry swears he’s seeing stars as he tries not the buck up into her hand.
How’d they ever get to where they are in the first place? The question might never have an answer.
All they know at this point is that Y/N likes to control and Harry likes to be controlled.
Author’s note: Me, Nikki here! I absolutely love fall and autumn and I couldn’t resist so I hope you enjoy this as much as I do! Feel free to come and talk about any of these/use them to write your own fics!
Carving pumpkins together, Tyler can’t really carve anything too special so he just makes it look like a few of the Blurryface patterns. Josh, surprising Tyler, carved a flower. They put a candle in the other’s pumpkin and admire their handiwork as they sit in the hammock on the porch, swinging and enjoying the night air.
Tyler is running late to a studio session, and when he gets there, he finds Josh already going in on a packet of Pumpkin Spice Oreos. Josh says, “Don’t you dare,” anticipating a “basic white girl” comment. Instead, Tyler chuckles and places a pumpkin spice latte from Starbucks on the table in front of Josh, “maybe too much?” and Josh’s eyes light up.
Watching horror movies together, Tyler starts dozing off against Josh’s shoulder. They fall asleep there for the night. The next day, Josh spends the afternoon jumping out of random closets and popping out from random corners to scare Tyler. He gets him every time.
Baking together, and Josh watches Tyler knead out the dough. There’s flour everywhere, including on Josh’s shorts and in the sheets that they later throw in the wash. The apple pie ends up burning but it’s okay, they bake a new one after they shower.
They go to a Fall Festival together. Josh grabs them both mugs of warm cider, and they go on a hayride in a pumpkin patch. Holding hands on top of a bale of hay and laughing when the horse gets scared of a Scarecrow on display. Later, Josh goes bobbing for apples in the competition and comes up the winner.
It was a bad day for Tyler. He was writing something about the crows outside on the bare branches, looking out the window, when Josh comes up behind him and wraps his arms around his chest, gently kissing his head. “Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.” Tyler puts down his pen and lets himself lean back into Josh’s chest. He is warm and smells of cinnamon. And knows exactly which quotes are Tyler’s favorite.
Tyler likes red apples and Josh likes the green ones; he prefers the sour-sweet taste. They find a local seasonal farm and decide to go apple picking. Josh eats so many apples, he gets sick on the way back home. Tyler makes a pit stop at the supermarket to buy some caramel. While Josh is resting, Tyler makes caramel apples for treats and makes a mess with the caramel. Everything gets sticky and Josh licks some of the caramel off of Tyler’s nose; how he managed to get it there is beyond Josh, but he makes his way down and suddenly both of their lips are sweet and sticky in caramel and Josh’s first instinct is to bite down.
The local park is perfect on weekday afternoons when the kids are all in school. Josh makes a HUGE pile of leaves and Tyler attempts to help, but he keeps dropping them behind him. Josh tells him to swing instead, and suddenly Tyler decides to jump off the swing into the pile. They take turns doing this for what feels like a few hours, but eventually leave when the school kids show up and give them funny looks. They both have leaves poking out of their coats and beanies and in their scarves. They spend the walk back home laughing and picking the leaves off of each other. (Tyler saves them and makes leaf rubbings for their scrapbook)
A drive in movie theater is a few towns away. Josh borrows a pickup truck from a friend and lays out some blankets. He brings a thermos of warm apple cider, some fresh cookies, and grabs Tyler for a “surprise.” They end up cuddling in the back of the truck, with all the blankets and find that neither of them even knew the name of the movie until the end credits.
Tyler is dying to go to a haunted house, but Josh keeps telling him that they’re all lame and childish. Tyler has a theory about Josh’s opinions, so he begs (and gives Josh the puppy dog eyes which Josh could never resist). Turns out, Tyler was right; Josh was scared of the haunted house and practically latched onto Tyler’s waist the second they made it past the lobby.
They go to a home game at their local high school; the football team had been kicking butt this season. Neither of them really cared, but they had nothing better to do. That is, until they found their way beneath the bleachers and found themselves making out like a couple of teenagers. They stuck around for the bonfire and roasted enough marshmallows to keep them stuffed until next year.
Family friend was hosting a costume party; Tyler decided to go as a skeleton (full makeup and everything), and Josh goes as the grim reaper. His costume was way more last minute, and he was too busy watching Tyler meticulously apply his makeup than actually bothering to get himself ready. Frantically, he helps Josh try to get ready so they wouldn’t be late but Josh doesn’t care; he grabs Tyler’s face and kisses him and Tyler sinks into it until he realizes Josh smeared his makeup. He playfully slaps his chest and tells him to go get ready while he fixes his skeleton face.
The apartment smells lovely; Tyler went a bit overboard at Bath & Body Works. He bought every apple, caramel, cinnamon, pumpkin, everything there was. He’s sitting on the couch reading when Josh comes back and turns the lights off and just lets the candles flicker all over the place. Perfect mood lighting.
A perfectly constructed pillow fort, close enough to feel the fire place keeping them warm and open enough to see all the fairy lights Josh had spent the day hanging while Tyler was decorating for Halloween. The door was covered in faux spider webbing, there was a scarecrow on the porch, the mailbox had fake spiders hanging from it, plenty of pumpkins on the stoop, and a motion activated ghost that would moan as people walked by. Tyler, stepping back to appreciate his work, felt himself being lifted and carried to the living room. All the Halloweentown movies were queued up on the screen and the caramel corn was in a bowl on the floor of the fort. Tyler beamed; a perfect way to end the night and wind down before their Halloween party tomorrow.
Candy corn fangs, “blood” punch, perfectly frosted cupcakes, fresh pies & caramel apples, and so much more lined the little buffet table they had set up. They had decided on couple’s costumes for this party, sort of. Tyler went in an orange jumpsuit as a prisoner, and Josh went as the prison guard. The party was a hit; everyone spent the night laughing and dancing and eating. Tyler and Josh spent a decent majority of it kissing. There would be tons to clean tomorrow, but for now, their priority was finding the handcuffs Tyler had bought to go along with his costume…
They attempt a fall themed photoshoot to use as their Thanksgiving holiday card but they end up taking tons of silly selfies, even one where Josh’s face is smushed up against Tyler’s, half of him not even in the photo. Perfect, matching lockscreens. They spend the rest of the afternoon, having abandoned the photoshoot idea, walking around and taking in the scenery. It’s quiet and calm, and they don’t let go of each other’s hands for a second.
Josh tries to scare Tyler and take him to an “abandoned graveyard” but he gets distracted by how the moonlight plays on Tyler’s face. The only haunting thing there was how he managed to get so lucky in love. Tyler catches him staring and tilts his head, walks over to him, and whispers “boo” in Josh’s ear. For some reason, Josh jumps at the unexpected brush against his ear. They both fall into a fit of laughter, until they hear some twigs snapping behind them. Eyes wide, they turn to each other and run out of there as quickly as possibly, falling back into laughter once they’ve safely made it back to the car.
Leaves made a mess of the front year, so Josh attempts to clean the gutters while Tyler is raking the leaves. Tyler is singing to himself, and Josh casually drums on the ladder. But he loses his grip and stumbles, falling off. Thankfully, he lands on his side and doesn’t break anything vital. Tyler rushes him to the hospital just in case, turns out to be a minor sprain and the doctor advises some rest. Tyler spends the car ride back berating Josh for not being more careful. When they get home, Tyler makes him some soup (a homemade, secret recipe) and kisses his forehead. “I’m sorry I got mad at you earlier; I was so scared when you fell. I’m calling a professional tomorrow, so you can rest your wrist.” Of course, Josh knew why Tyler was upset. He thanks him for the soup and returns the kiss.
Lazy Saturday calls for a trip to the library; Josh checks out some cookbooks for Tyler who he finds in the mystery section. Arms full of “scary stories for the dark” and even a few local hauntings. They spend the afternoon pouring over ghost stories that may explain why parts of town always seem creepier than the rest.
The original plan was to spend the day flying a kite, but when it got stuck in a tree - they called it quits and spent the rest of the day in bed with some magazines, library books, and Netflix.
A local flea market calls for a DIY project. They find a beautiful bookshelf and grab some supplies from Home Depot. They spend the rest of the afternoon in the garage sanding it down, painting, and glossing it. They also carve their initials into the base of it, inside. They made it theirs, and it would look perfect next to the fireplace, once they started filling it with their favorites that were overflowing the bedside tables.
Opening the door for local trick-or-treaters was one of their favorite things; seeing all the costumes. But it made them both a bit nostalgic, so on a whim, they both got dressed up, grabbed pillowcases, and joined in on the fun. Coming back home a few hours later with their loot, they gorged themselves on Halloween candy and still had plenty to last themselves until next year.
Practicing his hand at calligraphy, Tyler made his very own cookbook, just for Josh of course. A few of his favorite treats and snacks, all conveniently under the titled of “Love Spells & Potions.” Tyler left it out on the dinner table for Josh to pick what he wanted that night by leaving the page open to the recipe he wanted. Josh left the page open to the author’s name.
Volunteering at the local soup kitchen was a great way to do some charity work on Sunday. They both loved making others smile and it was the least they could do for their community. Of course, they were both exhausted afterwards, but very well worth it. Perhaps they would make a habit of it.
Corn maze. Winner had to carry the other all the way to the car, except that they both got lost and ended up bumping into each other halfway through. And as it turns out, they were the last ones out of the maze. Josh still offered to carry Tyler back but instead, Tyler just put his hand in Josh’s and said, “This way, we’re both carrying a bit of each other.”
Walking down a quiet path overshadowed by tall trees and the leaves are all colors, each of them has a cup of coffee from the local shop and they’re sharing earbuds, listening to the playlist they made together for days like this. The crunch of leaves beneath their feet and the nuzzle of warm, knit scarves against their chins makes them feel as if they’re the only two in the world, and they wouldn’t have it any other way. (Credits to Christine for this last one! It’s perfect and warms my heart!)
Summary: there’s a million different ways to say I love you and though Luke is going through them all, it seems you are just oblivious
There were a million different ways to say I love you. And Luke was sure he’d gone through all of them. All of them, except the one that was perhaps most important.
He hadn’t actually said that he loved you.
There was a valid reason for that, though. One didn’t say I love you when they knew the other person wouldn’t say it back. And he was sure that you wouldn’t, not in the way that he meant it. You were just friends, after all.
You didn’t know he loved you. If only you had learnt that sometimes actions speak much louder than words.
“I’ll walk you home,” Luke said, taking his coat off the hanger. It had been a late night studio session, and you had been there, patiently sitting on the couch and listening to them play.
You were supposed to pick them up from the studio and all go to the cinema together, but needless to say, now that it had gone way past midnight, that plan was off the table. You didn’t care, though.
There was something magical and beautiful about your friends, when they were so caught up in their music that time stopped and the world stopped spinning. It was as if the moment would never end, and you would have loved to stay stuck in there with them forever.
But everything came to an end, and the yawns that kept escaping your mouth told you it wasn’t a moment too soon.
“You don’t have to, Luke,” you answered. You’d already bundled up in your coat. The rain had been hitting the window and you weren’t looking forward to going out there, as it would wash away the cozy feeling that had taken over your body. “My house isn’t far.”
“I’m not letting you go out there alone.” He crossed his arms, and you knew the fight had been lost. There was nobody more stubborn than Luke Hemmings, when he got something in his head.
“Goodnight, Y/N!” Calum called, and a chorus of goodbyes followed his as you waved and followed Luke out into the cold.
The rain hit your face, immediately waking you up. “Fuck,” you grumbled, trying to pull your coat closer around your body. “Why didn’t I take the car?”
“Cause it’s a ten minute walk?” Luke offered.
“A ten minute walk in the rain,” you whined, and a grin passed over Luke’s face.
“But look what I’ve got here.” He opened an umbrella from seemingly out of nowhere and held it over your head. It was a small umbrella, one of those pocket ones, and you moved closer to him to get yourself under it completely.
“You are my hero,” you exclaimed, and you didn’t notice the shy smile that he couldn’t hide when your arm hit his.
You spoke about the song that had just been written as you walked towards your house. He watched you, watched your face lit up as you laughed, watched the last stray rain drops that had managed to hit you drip down your hair, watched the way your arms clutched your body as if you could make yourself smaller that way.
Rain drops hit his shoulder. The umbrella was never going to be big enough for the two of you, but you hadn’t noticed that. You didn’t notice when the rain got heavier and Luke’s side got soaked. You just noticed it pour on the umbrella that he held for you.
“Do you want a piece?” he asked. It was his birthday and he’d invited all his friends to his house. He’d even gone as far as to get a cake. He hadn’t really celebrated his birthday with a proper party since the band picked up; but you had told him how much you loved a good old fashioned birthday party.
“What is it?” Before he could answer you, you’d dipped your finger in the icing. “Hmm, chocolate. Yes, please.”
“Of course it’s chocolate, it’s brown,” Michael stated. “Can I have a piece?”
“Is there even enough for everybody?” Ashton brought in. “You should’ve bought more than one, Luke.”
Luke sighed. He knew Ashton was right. Damn it, he hated it when Ashton was right. And it happened quite a lot.
“Is there anyone that doesn’t want cake?” he asked hopefully. It stayed eerily silent in the room, and he rolled his eyes. “You’re all pigs.”
“Hey!” you called out, pretending to be hurt. “I’ll have you know a little chocolate cake is very good for this diet I’m following.”
“You’re on a diet?” he frowned, and you shrugged.
“Has to happen sometimes, you know.”
He didn’t think so. He thought you were beautiful, just the way you were, and he had never understood why you didn’t always think so.
“I guess everyone is going to have a very small piece,” he told his guests. He cut the cake, trying to keep the slices as narrow as possible, but he left one piece slightly bigger.
“That’s mine!” said Michael, who had also noticed it, but Luke ignored him.
You hadn’t noticed the one piece that was slightly bigger. You didn’t notice that Luke made sure that that one piece ended up in your hands, keeping it away from Michael by knocking into him “accidentally” when he reached for it.
You noticed that Luke didn’t have a piece, in the end, but he managed to get everyone else at least a little slice.
Nate: “You owe me five bucks,” Nate chuckled, one arm tucking under your legs and the other going around your torso. You mumbled something incoherent only making Nate shake his head and laugh even more. Whenever you joined Nate for his late night studio sessions it resulted in you passed out on the couch. You could never stay awake past midnight. Like usual, he ended up carrying you home. This situation happened so frequently that Nate made a game out of it. If you fell asleep before midnight you would owe him five dollars, but if you stayed up he’d owe you money. So far Nate was bleeding you dry. At some point you were determined to stay up past 12 am, ready to gain your money back.
Sammy: Bright lights flashed around as you and music blasted through the club. Sweaty bodies pushing up against each other as you made your way to the VIP area. “Aye Y/N’s here! Now the party can get started,” Sam exclaimed, raising a glass of whatever it was he was drinking in the air. You rolled your eyes, plopping down in the spot next to him. His arm draped over your shoulder and pulled you into a side hug. It was never really a party until you showed up. You were always the one to come up with crazy ideas and to just get everyone going wild. Midnight was the time you felt more alive. The time where you thrived and you were ready to party till the sun came up.
Johnson: The sound of the piano playing was what woke you up. The melody floating about the house and making goosebumps rise against your skin. You knew it was Jack. It was becoming a habit of his to wake up some time around midnight with a new song in mind. Usually you would sleep through all of it, not knowing he was out of bed and working on music. Tonight was somehow different. You no longer felt the warmth from Jack’s body, the bed being left empty and cold. You slid out of bed, making your way to Jack’s music room. A smile embracing your face at the sight of Jack in his element. You weren’t going to interrupt this moment, deciding to just watch him from afar.
Gilinsky: A loud sneeze came from your right making the whole bed shake, and soon a series of coughs came from Jack. You let out a loud huff, turning over to face your boyfriend with a sad look. “Sorry for waking you,” Jack grumbled, grabbing the box of Kleenex of the nightstand. You hummed in response, looking at the clock with squinted eyes. It was just reaching midnight and from the look on Jack’s face you could tell he was feeling worse than he was earlier. “Come’re,” you mumbled, arms opening wide to make room for him. It didn’t take long for him to snuggle up to you; his face nuzzling into your chest and a sigh of comfort leaving his lips. One thing Jack loved the most was being your arms in the middle of the night.
Swazz: It was eerily quiet in the airport. A few lights turned off and shops closing as the day was winding down. There was something about being in a nearly deserted airport that made your skin crawl and send a tinging down your spine at the same time. The plane you were suppose to board was an hour late, the weather effecting its arrival. You had no idea how you were still awake. The clock showing 12:05 am. Most of the people boarding the same plane as you were asleep, while others were still awake. John was knocked out beside you, head rested on your shoulder, and snoring up a storm. You smiled at his sleeping form, taking out your phone to capture the moment. Unbeknownst to John, you had a whole album of just him sleeping. Saving the pictures for a rainy day of blackmail.
Harry: You came out of your room upon hearing the noises from the living room. You knew you lived alone and nobody had your key, so it was safe to say you were scared out of your mind. With a lamp in hand, you made your way down the hallway to find the source of the noise. You sighed in relief when you saw Harry sitting on your couch, eating your favorite crisps. “What the heck? How’d you even get inside here? I never gave you a key,” you said exasperatedly, taking the light bulb out of the lamp and throwing it at him. “I took it and made a copy last week while you were sleep at my place.” You made a face at him. “Creep. You could’ve just called or texted me and said you were coming over, like a normal person, instead of scaring the lights out of me.” “Yeah, I could’ve, but I didn’t so get over it. Anyways, I just wanted to talk to you.” “About?” You probed just wanting him to get to the point. “Well, uh, I’m going out with Anna tonight and-” “Let me stop you right there. Harry you know I do’t like her and I told you, you shouldn’t go out with her, so ’m not going to help you out with this.” It was true that you didn’t like her. She was a spoiled, pretentious, brat, but it was the fact that you’d been crushing on Harry for some tie. It wasn’t your fault, though. It was never your intention. It’d just happened between the late night phone calls, the invites to studio sessions, and the occasional sleepover. “What’s your problem? I was hoping to ask her to be my girlfriend, and I like her; why can’t you just deal with it and be happy for me?” he asked frustrated. This wasn’t the first time you’ve shown your distaste for this girl he’d been seeing. “Because she’s a spoiled, pretentious, brat,” you said through clenched teeth, jealousy leaking through your every word. “Yeah well the only one acting like a brat right now is you!” he replied raising his voice. “Well I’m SO sorry that I’m not Anna’s number one fan.” “What’s so bad about me and her dating huh?” “It should’ve been me. Who did you talk to when you had a problem? Me. Who did you call late at night when you missed home? Me. Who did you invite to the studio when you needed inspiration? Was it Anna? Nope, it was me. And now, here you are inside of who’s flat? Mine. If you want Anna so bad then why do you continuously surround me? You’re driving me insane, and I just can’t even try to think about anyone else and it’s all because of you!” you finish your rant and storm out back to your room to let out some long needed tears, and leave Harry to think about his so called with Anna. He thought that you and him were just friends, weren’t you?
Liam: You had been sat in the restaurant with the two lovebirds for at least an hour and that was about 59 minutes too long. You were about two seconds away from stabbing yourself in the eyeball with the fork that you were currently, quite forcefully, piercing your steak with. Life just hated you. You were just about to tell Liam how you felt before, but you chickened out at the last second. Then, you were going to tell him when he came back for holiday then before he left from holiday, but the time never felt right to you. Then when you finally convinced yourself to go to his flat and just let it all out, you let yourself in with your key marched into his living room, only to find him on the couch making out with a girl who has now made it up to girlfriend status. At the time you had played it off, but by the way your heart plummeted to the bottom of your stomach you knew it was over. You missed your chance and there was nothing anyone could do about it. “Are you alright? Do you not like the food here or something?” Liam asked noticing your obvious discomfort once Sophia had went to the restroom. “The food is fine, but I’m not,” you crankily said. “Are you sick or something?” he questioned confusedly. “Sick of being here, yeah” you grumbled still stabbing at your food. You hated how you sounded like such a brat, but being a third wheel sucks, in love with the guy or not. “I’m confused. Did I do something?” he asked again still clueless to your affections for him. “Jesus, Liam, you’re so dumb sometimes. Yes, you did do something. First, you came into my life. Then, you stayed there. Not only did you stay willingly, but you were just a proper gentleman and a lad. You made me see that not everyone is as effed up as the ones I’ve known. For the longest time, you’ve been my little bit of sunshine and for a second I thought that maybe you felt the way that I did. But, since I'n here at dinner with you and your girlfriend you obviously didn’t. And, on top of that I’m just a freaking third wheel! The whole time that I’ve been here you two have been so into each other that you haven’t even so much as asked how my day has been.” “What are you trying to say?” Liam asked dubiously refusing to accept what you’ve just told him. You lost it there and started fake choking yourself. “Liam, I love you, and I’m leaving, and I really love you, but I have to go,” you finalized leaving some money knowing that despite everything you’ve just confessed Liam wouldn’t let you pay for your dinner. Stupid perfect mother fu- your thoughts were cut off by Sophia coming back from the loo. “Wher’re you going Y/N?” she asked completely oblivious to everything that just went down between you and her boyfriend. “I’m so sorry love, but I’ve just got a phone call from me mum and my brother got into an accident he’s fine, but I should go.” “Oh, ok then. I’m sorry. Do you need us to go with you?” “No, no I’ll be fine. Enjoy your diner,” You called back already halfway to the door.
Louis: You’d woken up early for some reason despite the late night you’d just had. Honestly, it was the best night of your life. The love of your life still had his arms firmly wrapped around you in his sleep. Bear skin making contact, sending goosebumps up your arms, you’d both been too exhausted to even put back your undergarments. But, now that you were awake you felt just a tad bit uncomfortable, so you wiggled out of his grasp and threw your underwear and bra on as well as slipping on his t-shirt which had been discarded among your other clothing last night. You lightly stepped over to the bed to make sure Louis was still asleep, which he was. Pressing a kiss to his forehead you walked out of the bedroom and down to the kitchen to make breakfast because even though you hated to cook (not that you were bad at it because you weren’t it just wasn’t something you enjoyed) you were just in that good of a mood. When you were just about done with your waffles you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist and soft lips peppering kisses across your shoulders. You hummed in agreement squeezing his hands that were still wrapped around your frame. You noticed his hands reaching down lower by the goosebumps that began popping up on your thighs, you squealed and smacked his hands down. Ok, someone was a little too turned on for the morning time. He spun you around once you had completed your final waffle and started pressing kiss up your neck all the way to your ear where he whispered “I want to do it again.” “Not a chance, you challenged. "We’ll see about that,” he countered lifting you up onto the counter and pressing his lips to yours. You kissed him back immediately, as if you were going to try and stop him. But, much too soon for your liking he pulled back slightly. “Before we do this, I just need you to know that we can’t be in a relationship.” Boom. The bomb had dropped. You’d just slept with him and were about to do it again and he can’t be in a relationship with you. What? He was about to go in to kiss you again, but you pulled back. “What do you mean we can’t be in a relationship? I just freaking slept with you. Me and you, us, yeah we just had sex.” “I know, but, I mean, I like you Y/N I really do, but I’m just not ready for a relationship, not yet.” “Then why did you sleep with me? You know how I feel about you,” you said on the brink of tears, and he sighed. “Love, I do like you and I won’t see anybody else, but I just, I can’t be with you right now,” he said tenderly wiping the few tears that had managed to slip out. You turned your head and hopped off the counter nodding your head. Then, you took off his shirt that you’d put on earlier that morning and tossed it at him. He looked at you confused. “What are you doing?” “I’m gonna need you to leave.” You stated calmly while wrapping him up a plate, you had spent your time making this food and you weren’t going to waste it. “Huh?” he questioned again. “You, yeah, I’m going to need you to leave.” “But, why?” he asked still not making any effort to get out of your flat. “I just had what I’d like to think was the best night of my life with the guy I really like and you won’t even say we’re in a relationship. What the hell do you think we’ve been doing Louis?” He opened his mouth to say something, but you put your hand up to stop him. You really thought he had gotten over his fear of commitment that he had, but he obviously hadn’t. You handed him the plate you’d just made for him and went to go take a shower while he got his crap together.
Zayn: He was here at your house, again. Talking to you about his ex fiance, again. He was slowly killing you with his words, again. This was how it’d been for about six months. You and Zayn weren’t really close friends before, but when him and his fiance ended things, you saw how broken he was and stepped in to be another person he can lean on. It took a month of so to get him to open up and actually trust you, but when he did you got a chance to see the real him. Zayn was a really complex person, but in an admirable way. The kind of way that makes you look at him like he’s the Crown Jewels or holds the answers to the world’s biggest wonders or, like, Jesus. Whichever way you looked at it, you were beyond infatuated with him. But, (there was always a but) he wasn’t over his ex (they were together for over two years and that kind of hurt don’t heal over six months). “Zayn, you’re one of my best friends, but like I can’t keep listening to you talk about her. You even said it was for the best,” you interrupted, speaking for the first time since he started up his rant. “I know, but I just, I miss her.” “Do you really miss her or do you just miss being in a relationship?” you countered. The look on his face said he was frustrated and just wanted to rant to you. “What does it even matter to you?” he mumbled. “Because I like you. As more than a friend. And, I know it’s stupid because you obviously still love Perrie, but I mean I can’t help it. I just, like, like you, ya know? Like, LIKE, like you. He looked up at you with a blank expression on his face, which soon turned into a slightly sympathetic one. He knew you were one of his best friends, but he didn’t like you like that. Or, at least, he didn’t realize it because of his ex fiance clouding his brain. "Don’t look at me like that. I know you still love her, but it hurts me to see you hurt. Still hurt after all this time. It’s been like six months, and you’re still hurting. And, it hurts that you can’t like me back, at least not right now. So, basically I’m just too hurt right now. So, basically I’m just too hurt right now, and I think I need some milk from the grocery store. You can let yourself out.” You said leading yourself of your flat, leaving Zayn sitting at your counter wondering how this escalated so fast.
Niall: You were doing everything you could not to roll your eyes at the bottle blonde sitting across from you. “Niall,” you said forcefully giving him a pointed look. “What? All I’m saying is that Josh would be good for you. He’s a lad,” he said through a mouthful of food. “What is up with you trying to set me up with every moving thing with a penis? I’m fine.” And, you were fine except for the fact that you were falling for the oblivious boy in front of you. “I know you’re fine. I never said you weren’t fine, but you need a man. You’re always stressing about paying for rent, and things, yet you’re always helping people. You need someone to take care of you for once and as your best friend it’s my job to find someone to do that,” All you could do was think that he could be that person for you. All you wanted was for him to be that person for you. But, you just rolled your eyes and continued to sip your drink. “Besides, what’s wrong with Josh? You told me you thought he was cute.” “He is cute, it’s just that he’s not you.” You were so caught up with your thoughts that you didn’t even realized what you’d just said. “What?” he asked eyes exponentially widened by your confession. “What?” you replied still unaware of what you had just said. “You just said that…” he trailed off, leaving you to review everything you two were just talking about and- oh. Oh. You, just, yeah. You literally face-palmed yourself. “Bloody hell. I didn’t mean to say that.” “But, is it true?” You nodded bashfully. He grabbed your hand. “You know I’ve had my eye on Madison for a while, and I just got her to go on a date with me,” he explained empathy laced in every word. “No, no I know. I, just, I didn’t mean to. Umm… excuse me sir? Can I get the check please?” you fumbled, desperately looking for a way out. “You’ve got this right? I mean you’ve got the whole boy-band thing going for ya, and I’m poor and I’ll text you, probably not, bye,” you stumbled out of the pub you two had been sitting at with Niall confusedly still at the bar.
Oneshot Member: Yoongi (aka daddy) Genre: Smut Summary:
When any of the members, even just one, were around, he had the habit of acting like the biggest dick bag you ever had the displeasure of knowing.
Request: No but I know you want it Word Count: 3.520 Warnings: Daddy kink, light bondage
~Gif is not mine. Credit to the original creator.~
When it was just you and Yoongi, your time together was blissful. You both enjoyed the comfortable silence and neither of you felt the need to talk just to fill the quiet. You were each independent and confident in your own skin, happy just to be in each other’s presence. You two also bore a striking resemblance to an old couple, complaining at everything together and bickering lightheartedly with one another.
Alone, he was the perfect boyfriend, save for his occasional laziness. He helped you around the house, asked about your day when you returned home, gave you small, I-was-thinking-of-you gifts.
In turn, you gave him space when he was focused on his music and cooked him meals, as he often forgot to eat at times.
However, one thing about Yoongi annoyed you to the end of your wits. When any of the members, even just one, were around, he had the habit of acting like the biggest dick bag you ever had the displeasure of knowing. He was rude and short with you, blew you off, and made jokes at your expense.
Most of the time you bit your tongue, knowing that as soon as you were alone again, Yoongi would be back to himself. Except once in a while, when your patience was wearing thin, you would snap back harshly at him. With the members getting rowdy at your snarky comments, Yoongi typically stopped talking to you after that, but you would get the cold shoulder the rest of the night - even after the boys had left.
Thanks for this request! Love hearing from you guys! (-:
You’d been waiting for him to finish for what felt like years. With a sleepy yawn, you stretched your back and rubbed your eyes, turning your attention to the boy whose attention was elsewhere. You could see the focus burning in his glazed-over eyes, and you smiled softly. You were so proud of them- at how they pushed themselves to be better, even if it ended up in studio sessions going into late nights and early mornings.
“Hey,” you said softly, earning a glance in your direction. “Are you almost finished? Not to push, or anything.” You added a smile just to let him know it was alright if he needed to talk longer- music and dance were his passions, and you weren’t going to throw a wrench in it.
He pursed his lips, “I just need to finish this one thing. I’ll be like five, maybe ten minutes tops.” With a comforting smile in your direction, you nodded and leaned back into the couch you sat on. Unable to hide your sleepiness anymore, you felt the weight of your work day on your eyelids and sighed, drawing yourself into dreams.
Unnoticing of your condition, he continued to work, fingertips flying away at the beat he was producing and wrist aching from all the lyrics he’d written. Eventually, after feeling satisfied with his work, he rose to his feet, having just saved and locked everything up for the night. “Jagiya,” he stretched his back and turned around to look at you, only to find you curled up on the couch, eyes closed and soft breaths escaping your parted lips.
Hanbin smiled, staring down at your sleeping figure. During the day you were such a busy body and to see you relaxed, features serene and tiny snores coming from your nose. Chuckling, Hanbin ran his fingers over your arm, gently lulling you awake. As your eyes pulled open, half-lidded and a sleepy smile on your face, Hanbin helped you to your feet, walking slowly with you from the studio to his car.
“She’s so beautiful… let’s get you home so you can sleep in a real bed, okay?”
Jiwon chuckled lightly. He wasn’t surprised that you fell asleep that quickly, especially since you had an early morning meeting and hadn’t taken a nap yet. Smiling down at your curled form, he brushed a piece of your hair behind your ear, trying to capture the image of serenity on your face. His chest felt heavy with love as he slid his arms underneath your body, carrying you against his torso as you slept comfortably on the journey to the car.
“How did I get so lucky?”
Jinhwan turned to look over his shoulder, eyes growing slightly wide at the sight of you, legs curled to your chest and face buried in the cushion. Softly, he pushed your hair out of your eyes, adoration building up in his throat. Everything he felt for you grew the minute he saw you there, face peaceful and tiny mewls of sleep leaving your parted lips in small breaths. He stood there for what felt like hours, just enjoying the sight of you sleeping, before he gently woke you to take you home.
“I’m sorry jagiya, but I need you to sleep comfortably, okay? Come on, I’ll carry you.”
His words died on his lips as he turned around to tell you that the two of you were leaving. Slightly surprised that you fell asleep that quickly, Junhoe would snap a quick picture, wanting to cherish the image of your serene face. Softly kissing your forehead, he’d sit beside you on the couch, trying his best not to wake you up as he lifted you up into his arms. Holding you like a baby on the front of his chest, he’d laugh as you slept through all of it, though in the back of his mind he wondered if the tightness in his chest was because of love.
“Jeez, she’s so gorgeous… what is this feeling in my chest?”
Donghyuk turned, bag on his shoulder, his smile faltering when he saw you. Guilt throbbed in his chest at the sight of you, forced to curl up in the fetal position on the couch, your hair strewn about. The smile would turn into something else- simply his thoughts. Caressing your cheek, Donghyuk would swallow, knowing that the lump in his throat was caused by you. “I love you,” he whispered softly, trusting that you couldn’t hear the words he’d never said to you. With your hand in his, he’d lead you down to the parking garage, smiling as you leaned her cheek on his chest.
“I can’t wait to tell her…”
Yunhyeong’s teasing grin fell off his face the moment he saw you, curled up and obviously sleeping. He’d planned to take you to a ramen shop for three-am noodles, but it seemed his plan wasn’t going to happen anymore. Sighing, he’d smile softly at the sight of you, peaceful for once in your life. Kissing your forehead, he’d stop to take a picture and save it as his lockscreen, before gently waking you up. He didn’t want you to get a crick in your neck.
“Come on, jagiya, let’s get you home, yeah?”
Chanwoo stared at you in awe. Captivated by your beauty, he stood there, dumbfounded and unable to move. He knew he was sure the second he spotted you, looking as gorgeous as ever with your cheek mushed into the cushion. His throat constricted as he sat down on the couch beside you, afraid to wake you up from your obviously deep sleep. After a minute of thinking, he was sure that he’d found the girl he wanted to marry.
• being close to Annie, Emily, & Ben
• Mama Wilk loving you
• Helping Nate and Johnson with cooking
• Going to every party
• Going to every concert
• Being a social media star yourself
• Posting pictures of him everywhere
• Being like a little sister to the guys
• “Sam, I’m not calling you daddy.”
• “Please baby girl.”
• You eventually calling him daddy
• Helping Nate get over his anxiety so he doesn’t smoke as much
• Helping Johnson when he feels like Gilinsky isn’t there for him
• Giving Gilinsky relationship advice
• Helping Swazz with his music
• Everyone coming to you for help with lyrics or a beat
• Cuddling with him
• Him constantly bragging about you
• The only way he can sleep is with your head on his chest, with you literally laying on top of him
• Lots of coffee and lunch dates
• Being the main girl in his music videos
• Bringing him lunch at the studio
• Late night studio sessions
• Holding his hand when he gets tattoos
• Tracing his tattoos
• Him pulling you into his lap
• Him calling you baby girl
• You calling him ‘Stark’ because of his middle name
• Tons of hickeys
“Sign the papers, Bieber.”
Y.N. was over the back and forth bullsit with Justin, it was evident to him as she basically threw the pen and paper at him.
Did having the love of his life throwing divorce papers at him phase him?
Of course it did.
Did he let her see that?
Absolutely fucking not.
Justin slid the papers back down across the table and clutched the pen between his fingers.
Y.n. let out am exasperated sigh as she slid the stupid papers back down.
“What. The. Fuck.”
The words were uttered between gritted teeth. Her cold eyes met that of Justin’s.
“Why do you have to make everything so damn difficult. You’re the one who didn’t want this marriage!”
Sliding the papers back to her, he placed his hands behind his head in some sort of mock ‘I-don’t-give-flying-fuck’ arrogance that was clearly pissing Y.N. off.
“I never said that. I love you.” Crossing her arms over her chest, y.n scoffs.
“Bull-fucking-shit. Those 'late night studio sessions’ beg to differ.” Standing to her feet and pushing her chair in, she narrows her eyes at Justin.
“Sign the papers, I’m not telling you again.”
With that, she turns on her heel and makes her way towards the front door.
Justin is quick to stand to his feet, taking long strides so he can reach her before she can open the door.
Grabbing her by her arm, he turns her around and presses their chests together. With her back pressed firmly on the door, Y.N. tries her hardest to advoid eye contact, but the act proved virtually impossible.
She hadnt been this close to him in months.
“I love you.”
His breath tickles her lip and she can’t help but relax as the familiar words are uttered.
Justin chuckles softly, placing a small kiss to her cheek.
“I know you love me too.”
Scoffing, Y.N. gaze mets his.
By this time, justin lips had already ventured to her neck as he pressed opened mouth kisses to it. He can feel her breath hitch when he finally gets to her sweet spot.
“Yes, really, you love me, a lot, and I love you, a lot. Therefore,”
justin presses his bulge against her center. They both sigh in unison at the contact. Its been so long for the both of them.
“I’m not signing those fucking papers.”
“But nothing. Despite what you may think, I didn’t cheat on you. The only thing I’m guilty of is over working and not giving you the attention you deserve.” Justin’s calloused fingers were already inside her panties.
Her face was nusseled between his neck as she tried to refrain from the moan and whimper he knew she wanted to let out.
Y.N. looks up, mouth agape and cheeks flushed. Justin can’t help but smile at the sight.
Leaning down, Justin firmly presses his lips to hers as she moans. He moans too as her feels her clench around his fingers.
Justin coos, removing his fingers from. Y.n. let out a whimpers at the withdrawal.
She wasn’t the stubborn and cold woman that had walked into the house only thirty minutes prior…an orgasm would do that to you.
With another kiss to her lips, justin wipes his fingers on his pants and smiles.
Kara was aware of how lucky she was to have the Danvers in her life, and she had always tried to be the daughter they wanted. So when the time to choose a career came and the idea of being an artist was not so appreciated by Eliza, Kara did what she thought was right and compromised: something realistic -like her foster mom wanted- but where she could have certain creative freedom. So she went for journalism, with a side of photography and creative writing.
She wished she could say it was enough. But no matter how many things she had to do, Kara kept coming back to her paintings, hoping she could improve her technique with each try. Before she knew it, she had enrolled in a class, which turned out to be the best part of her week.
It was that brilliant idea what had gotten her into the mess she was currently in: the final test for her class was to deliver a drawing of a nude model. Kara had met the most beautiful girl during one of her late night sessions at the faculty studio. It was awkward and hot and it had given Kara all kinds of feelings that were far from innocent. She knew she needed to draw that perfect body the minute she met Cat Grant; the problem was, she wanted to do a hell of a lot more with the girl than just draw.
Seeing as there was no book about dealing with inappropriate crushes when you’re about to see them naked for pure educational purposes, Kara had to steel herself for what was coming. She cleaned her apartment around -the only thing she could do to ease her nerves- but a soft knock on the door stopped her movements. She gulped and went to open.
“Cat”, she said breathily, incapable of holding back her smile.
“Hi”, Cat answered, putting a strand of golden hair behind her ear. “May I?”
“Yes, of course. Sorry” Kara said, stepping awkwardly to the side, allowing the girl in.
Cat walked as if she owned the place, looking stunning in a pair of yoga pants and a white tank top. Kara couldn’t help getting lost in the toned muscles of the girl’s arms; she wondered what it would be like to trace every single inch of her skin with the tip of her fingers, perhaps while running her tongue down…
“Kara?” Cat said, obviously amused at the girl.
“What?” the girl snapped, blushing madly.
“I said, where do you want me?” she accentuated every one of the words with an enticing movement of her lips.
Kara was certain she would not survive this ordeal.
“I was thinking the living room would be nice, let me just close the curtains”
“No need”, Cat said nonchalantly, dropping her bag unceremoniously on the floor. She took off the tank top, revealing a white sports bra and a taut abdomen. “You see, my philosophy is, if you have it, flaunt it”
“Right”, Kara said, blushing and tripping with the back of the couch. She dragged one of the stools and sat at what felt like a safe distance from Cat. Her whole body was working on autopilot now;she took one of her pencils with more strength than necessary when the woman discarded the bra, her small breasts finally free. Kara gulped and Cat gave her a predatory smile. She never broke eye contact with the girl as she grabbed the waist of her pants and dragged them down her legs. Once she finished the journey down her legs, she stood up straight again, clad in nothing but a white thong.
“Ready?”, Cat said playfully, putting her hands on her hips. And that last motion was what sent Kara over the edge. She threw the notebook across the room and lurched forward, kneeling right in front of Cat, her chest heaving. She felt desire consuming every single part of her being and Kara was certain the only way to sate it was touching Cat in every single way.
“Let me”, Kara pleaded, raising one hand to Cat’s sides. She caressed softly and the woman responded with a moan. Cat threaded her fingers on Kara’s hair and pulled roughly. Kara kissed Cat’s navel, inhaling the woman’s scent. There was no room for thoughts as she took one small string and pulled down…
“Kara?!” a familiar voice said and both women turned around to face the intruder. Kara felt horrified when she saw her sister in the middle of her apartment, mouth open.
“Alex! We were just…”
“Is she your girlfriend?”, Cat asked, looking more annoyed than mortified over the whole situation.
“I’m her sister”, Alex said with a strangled voice, covering her eyes as time went by and Cat made no effort to cover herself. “I will see myself out. Call me later, Kara. We need to talk”
The brunette turned around and closed the door with more roughness than necessary, making Kara wince at the noise. She looked up at Cat and to her relief, the woman was rather pleased with herself.
“I hope no one else will interrupt us” she purred, running her thumb across Kara’s bottom lip. The blonde darted out her tongue and licked Cat’s finger with abandonment. “Now, put that mouth of yours to good use, Danvers”
Because, you see, Kara’s philosophy was, if you have her, fuck her.
Luke staying in at a late night recording session in the studio and coming home to his and Michael’s shared bedroom to see Michael curled up on their bed,fisting the covers in his hand and snoring into his arm
Tonight was another late night session at the studio for Nate. For the past week he’s been coming home around 3 to 5 in morning, more dead than ever because of the multitude of music video he’s been shooting for: “Lil Bit,” “We Got That, and “Vibe Out”. Even though he dreaded the time-consuming task from time to time, he’d still be too stubborn to let a work go unfinished. “No days off,” he would repeatedly say. However, as you were standing in the front lawn of your house, the feeling of wishing he was home with you right now was strong. It was nearing the midnight of the 4th of July and every year you’d set out just a little bit before 12:00 am to watch the sky be light up with people who were eager to set their fireworks off a night early. Muffled explosions and descending smokes of fireworks being set off everywhere around you fill the outside air. Sometimes you could see the fireworks and sometimes you could only hear them, depending on where they were being lit; it was either miles away or barely a block from you. You close your eyes and throw your head back at the sight of the night sky being lighted up by the many different colors and designs of the fireworks. Then your phone unexpectedly flashes a preview of a text message. It was from Nate. You bring your head back down and smile, happy to reply back to him.
Nate: Are u outside yet?
Y/N: Yeah ☺️
Nate: How is it lil mama?
Y/N: Windy and nice! A couple of them had my favorite colors together too
Nate: I’m sorry I can’t be there with you tonight. I’m so damn tired and we’re barely half way through the night 😞
Y/N: Don’t be sorry, silly. (: I know it’s hard, but remember “no days off”
Nate: haha no days off. Idk I just wanna be home with you right now. I can’t believe I’m missing out on your tradition, I wanted to make it our tradition this year 😔
Y/N: There’s always next year 🎈 omg one went off behind me and I didn’t see it coming so it scared the living crap out of me!
Nate: LOL that’s my (Y/N) 👏😂 Man I wish I could’ve seen that hahahaha
Y/N: Just wait and see until you come home Maloley, you’re in a world of trouble! 😂
Nate: as long as the world has you in it, I’m fine. I have to go now, but I’ll see you in the morning okay?
Y/N: Okay. (: Work your best out there 😘
Nate: I love you, (Y/N).
Y/N: I love you, too, Nate.
You lock your phone and resume watching the festive sky in content after the short conversation you had with Nate. It was enough to make your whole night, knowing the two of you love each other. Pure bliss was what you liked to call it, and pure bliss it was when Nate would tell you he loves you.
Harry: You knew where he was going. You’d figured him out a while back. Deciding to lay low was difficult, but you had to wait for the right time to approach him. You had listened to excuse after excuse for his late night departures for nearly a month now. It was getting old. Him having to find someone else was getting old. He was in the shower. You look at the clock. Almost midnight. He would be leaving soon; telling you something about how Grimmy wants him to come out for the night or how one of the boys called and said they’re having a late night studio session. Both ridiculous lies you couldn’t believe he thought you accepted. You go to the kitchen. Tonight was the night you would confront him. You go to the drawer, pulling it out to reveal the set of butcher knives. Your hand grips the wooden handle as you slowly pull the sharp blade from the drawer. Tucking it against your arm you make your way outside, listening for the shower before closing the door behind you. There it is; the Range Rover. What he would be leaving in soon. Not if you could help it. You walk over to the SUV, the knife still against your arm. You stand in front of the left front tire, staring at it. He wasn’t going anywhere. You take the knife and stab it into the tire, the air hissing out as soon as it’s punctured. You walk to the next one, repeating the same offence as the anger and hurt he had caused you the last month comes out. Once all four tires had stopped hissing and you were pleased with your work you walk back inside, the sound of the shower bringing a smile to your face. He was in for a surprise. You put the knife back in the drawer and take your place on the couch, turning the television on to preoccupy yourself until he was ready to leave. You smell his cologne before he even makes it down the stairs, a smile spreading across your face. “Hey babe,” he begins, walking over to stand behind the couch. “I’m heading over to the station, going to sit in on Annie’s show.” This one was new. It was still a lie. “Alright, I’ll probably be asleep when you get back,” you tell him casually. “Okay. Goodnight babe, I’ll be back soon.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head before grabbing his keys and walking out into the darkness. You sit and wait. A smile still on your face. “What the hell happened to my car?” He shouts, storming back into the house moments later. “What do you mean?” You ask innocently. “My tires have been cut.” “What?!” You enjoy the fact that he isn’t catching on. “Who would do that? How did they get past the gate?” You, and easy. “I don’t know.” He reaches into his pocket to grab his phone, probably calling the police. “Guess you will just have to take the tube to her house,” you comment, your eyes turning dark as you remain concentrated on the television screen. “What?” He questions cautiously, bringing his phone down to his side. You slowly turn to him, your eyes glaring. “I said, I guess you will have to take the tube to her house.” “Whose house?” He continues. Was he really trying to play this game? “There’s no need to play ignorant now love, Lord knows I’ve done it enough this last month for the both of us.” Your voice was malicious, yet you couldn’t help but smile. He stands across the room still as stone, not sure of what your next move was. “I’m sure you can still make it there on time if you leave now, don’t want her worrying about you.” You were mocking him now. It was less consequential than murdering him. “I..I,” he stutters but you wave him off, standing from the couch to join him by the door. “She’s gorgeous isn’t she?” You begin, inches from his face. “I’m sure she is. Does she cook? Oh I bet she’s amazing in bed. I bet she does things with you I couldn’t even imagine. I’m sure she looks great in your clothes, better than I ever could.” Hatred consumes your tone as you continue. “I’m sure she’s worth all of this. Worth throwing away and forgetting the last three years. I bet she’s waiting for you right now, naked. I bet she looks good naked doesn’t she?” “Stop it,” he interrupts. “Why?” You inquire, eerily. “You thought you could hide it, didn’t you? That I would never find out and you could get the best of both worlds…a girlfriend and a sex doll.” He grimaces at your description of his mistress. You step back from him, your dark eyes still glaring at him. “Don’t worry, I’ll be the one to go,” you tell him, taking the keys to your own car and heading to the door.
Liam: It was late and you were still at the office. This was the fourth night in a row you had stayed late, work completely consuming you. You had taken over the office while your boss was on her honeymoon, fully trusting you with her fashion line while she was away. You had told yourself at the beginning of this venture that you could handle the stress and the long hours. This was an opportunity of a lifetime. Being the sit-in head designer was a big deal. So here you sit at your desk, ’22:28’ showing on the clock on your computer. Liam wouldn’t be happy. He was home on break from tour and you were still at work. He had practically begged you to come home on time yesterday but you just couldn’t get away from the new projects you were sending to New York for Fashion Week. Going home to him on time was not a priority at this point in the season. You finish up the last few emails of the night, sending off more electronic samples of the things to come in the weeks ahead. You grab your things from under your desk. “Bye James,” you call out to the security guard at the front desk. “Have a good night,” he replies as you walk out the door. You hadn’t heard from Liam since you had texted him to tell him you wouldn’t be home until after dark. You knew what was coming though. You knew he would have something to say about it, he always did. The drive from the office to your shared flat is short, one of the perks he used to get you to move in with him. The house was dark and quiet when you walked in. Liam was usually in front of the television when you walked in, always waiting up on you no matter how angry he was at the time you were coming in. “Liam?” You call out, turning on the lamp before walking into the kitchen. Nothing, not even a note on the counter. Well if he wasn’t around that at least meant you wouldn’t be fighting tonight. You walk up the stairs and go straight to the bedroom, eager to get out of the dress and heels you had worn to work. You almost expected to find Liam in the bed, but he wasn’t there. The flat was truly empty. Once out of your work clothes and into some sweats you head back to the kitchen to grab a late night snack. Your extra hours had your eating schedule in a mess. You grab some apples and peanut butter before walking back up the steps. “Shit,” you say to yourself, as you remember the day you had just had. You had forgotten to send your boss the update email she required of you every week. You head into the office, across the hall from your bedroom. Turning on the light you take one step into the room and stop, your plate of apples hitting the floor with a loud crash as the glass breaks. You’re speechless. You look around the absolutely trashed room. All of your samples from work were torn and strewn all over the floor. What had happened in here? Was this Liam? Was this why he wasn’t here? Your eyes begin to water; the last few months of work had been absolutely ruined. Ruined by Liam. You fall down onto the floor as your tears turn to sobs. Your sketches were shredded and mingling with the ruined samples. All of them, every sketch you had ever drawn, completely trashed. Why would he do this? Was it because you had been coming home late? Surely not. You knew he was angry with you, but surely he could contain his emotions better than this. “Oh God NO!” You shout as you look up on the desk to see your Mac, opened, the screen clearly smashed. Absolutely every single piece of work you had done is on that computer, was on that computer. Your heart is shattered. How could he do this to you? Just then you hear the door slam shut, loud stomping coming your way. You don’t turn around when you hear his steps cease. The aroma of alcohol and smoke now filling the room. He was standing behind you. “Why?” You cry, keeping your back to him. He says nothing as he walks out of the doorway and across the hall to the bedroom.
Niall: This wasn’t the first time he had agreed to this; to stay away for longer than was asked of him that is. The tour had just ended, you couldn’t wait to have him back home. However, he had agreed to stay in Australia with Liam and Sophia, your invitation not sent. He had only told you about his extended stay two days after not coming back home. Why was he acting like this? You had dealt with this before though. He had stayed in America between breaks a few weeks ago, leaving you at home not amused by his actions. While he journeyed around Los Angeles every day you were left to deal with the rumors and press of a breakup. He hadn’t bothered to address them from across the ocean so the next target was obviously you. “Just tell them we’re still together,” he had suggested, not thinking the rumors he was causing with his absence were a big deal. “Are we?” You counter, your voice serious. “What is that supposed to mean? Of course we’re still together. You’ve got a ring on your finger don’t you?” It was true, the rock on your finger kept you in this situation. You loved him and he loved you enough to let everyone know you were going to spend the rest of your lives together. But is that still what your ring meant? Or was it just a reminder of how absent he was in your life, even when it wasn’t necessary for him to be? “Why are you staying?” You had asked him only yesterday, the day he had called you to tell you of his intentions to not come home to you. “Because it’s beautiful here and I want to spend more time here.” His explanation was acceptable, except for one thing. “What about me? Why wasn’t I invited?” He doesn’t answer. “Is there someone else? Are you seeing someone else?” You question, your anger rising. “What? No! It’s just Liam and Sophia.” “Okay well then why didn’t you ask me to fly down?” “I didn’t think you would want to come down here.” Bullshit. You had never had a problem traveling to see him. “You didn’t think I would want to come to Australia?” You asked, repeating his comment as if it weren’t meant as a joke. “No, you usually act like it’s the end of the world when I ask you if you want to go somewhere.” What? What was he even talking about? “When have I ever acted like that Niall?” You had questioned, raising your voice. He didn’t answer, showing you he was only trying to make excuses for the distance. You had hung up on him then. Still not having said another word to him even now. He hadn’t called you back. This hurt you probably more than him not wanting to come home. He didn’t want to fight with you, fight for you. Nothing felt worse than this. You didn’t understand why this was becoming a thing for him. Why would he not want to come home after being gone for so long? Why would he not want to see you? You sit at the kitchen table, staring out the window at the backyard. Everything was so empty. You had been living in this house, his house, for four straight months without him. What was the point? What was the point of being here if he wasn’t? You understood the demands of his job and accepted them as best you could. However, when he decides out of nowhere to just stay away from home longer, how are you supposed to feel? And the fact that this was his second time in a row not returning to London for a break didn’t make keeping your emotions in any easier. You continue to stare, the silence of the house screaming back at you. If he didn’t want to come home to you, you would go. This was his house after all. You get up from the table, walking up the stairs to get suitcases. As you pack up your things tears begin to fall. Was this necessary? Did you have to leave? You continue putting the things in the suitcases you had brought with you six months ago, when he had proposed and you had moved in. The extra-large cases are packed full when get you finished gathering your things from the bedroom and en-suite. One at a time you carry them down the stairs and out to your car, the tears still falling. He would say you were taking things too far, but he didn’t know how this felt. Being left behind, being left alone for months at a time. It hurt. You were hurt. And this was the only way to give him the same feeling. You walk back into the house after cramming the second case into the backseat of your car. You stand in the middle of the bedroom, his bedroom. You wipe your eyes as you walk over to his nightstand, reaching for your finger, slipping the 10 karat diamond off, laying it by the picture of the two of you at his brother’s wedding. You were so happy in the picture, smiling brightly as he stares at you with his own smile, not bothering to look at the camera. Those times were perfect. When he was with you, when he wanted to be with you. You walk out of the room, leaving his promise of forever lying on the nightstand.
Louis: You hate him. In this moment you hate him. “Why don’t you just go back to your mother’s? You can be useless up there.” He was hurting you on purpose, but it was only because you had messed up. He hadn’t even been on break for a full twenty-four hours yet the two of you had been at it since he landed. You had lost track of time and before you realized your responsibilities he was yelling at you over the phone, cursing you because he had to take a taxi home. He continued his rant when you got home, still fuming. You had apologized endlessly, but only meaning the first few. Realizing he wasn’t going to let up, you lit into him. “Why the fuck does it matter if I pick you up or not Louis? You still made it back here didn’t you?” “Yeah no thanks to you. You fuck everything up. I’m surprised the fucking house is still standing.” “You’re lucky I didn’t burn this place to the ground, fucking asshole.” “Yeah, you would be the crazy bitch to do that, wouldn’t you?” Your hatred for him was growing, but you remain silent as he gets up from the bar to go upstairs. ‘This relationship is falling apart,’ you think to yourself as you turn away and walk to the kitchen. He hadn’t bothered to call you at all these last few weeks of tour and you can’t say you were bothered by it. The distance between the two of you was growing and you didn’t have the energy to fix it. At least not now. He was always on edge when he first got home, the stress of tour still consuming him. You had always been by his side to wait it out, but by the time this round would be over he would be heading back on the road. It didn’t seem worth it. You loved him. You reminded yourself every time he stormed off like he did that you do. Sometimes relationships need more than love. Yours was one of those. This was your relationship now. ‘A work in progress’ is what you described it as to your concerned friends when they inquired how the two of you were doing, especially with the distance in between you. You put on a good show for them. Lying and saying that while sometimes it was harder than usual, the two of you were fine. They bought into your lies and the conversation was changed without you ever having to mention the brutal fights you all get into when he’s home. You hear him shuffling from upstairs and you are reminded that he is back in the house. Something you would have to get used to for the next few weeks. You climb up on the counter, your usual spot for thinking. You are unsure of where to go from here. Could you make it through another fight with him? Could you make it through him leaving and coming back, just to start this all over again? The cycle of your relationship was relentless. How long could you keep this up? The sound of his phone ringing startles you and you climb down and walk over to the bar to grab it. “Hello?” You answer seeing as he wasn’t going to come down and answer it. “Hi love, is Louis around?” It was one of the Rover’s general managers. You hated that damn team. It took him away from you, forcing more distance into your relationship. “No, I’m sorry,” you lie. “Okay, well can you give him a message for me?” “Sure.” “We are having another meeting of the owner’s tomorrow morning at nine. There’s a really good chance Louis could get in this time and become an owner. They have been rethinking some things and his involvement of that stature would be huge for the team. So if you could just tell him that he needs to be at the meeting tomorrow. ” You let his words sink in. “Okay, I’ll tell him.” You hang up, sitting his phone back down on the counter. Owner? Owning his own football club is something he has always wanted to do. His dream. You had to tell him; regardless of how he was acting. Didn’t you? “Who was that?” He calls down from the top of the stairs. You pause. You tell him, it’s his dream. “Liam,” you lie, picking his phone back up and deleting the call, showing Liam to be the last to call him.
Zayn: Was he seriously over there? You roll your eyes as you spot your boyfriend across the banquet hall, more interested in a conversation with a stranger than you. You didn’t want to be here, you had begged him to not make you come. You hated official events, especially when they were strictly management’s doing. This was an end of tour celebration, or so they were calling it. It was basically a gathering of all of the executives to congratulate one another on all of the money they had made this year off of your boyfriend and his mates. You had asked Zayn repeatedly on the drive to the party if you could leave early, but he was insistent that the two of you had to stay at least through the speeches. “The speeches are the last thing they do!” You whine. “I’ll be by your side the entire time, I promise.” Some promise that was. Here you stand with a group of people you could care less about wondering why the hell you were even still here. You had been pestered all night by these people about your relationship with Zayn and how you handled the distance between you when he was gone. You were miserable. The last thing you wanted to do with your night was spend it explaining your relationship to these people who would more than likely end up twisting your words at some point. Zayn had broken his promise to stay with you throughout the night, which means you have no obligation to stay. You look around for the nearest way out of this hell hole. “Excuse me,” you say, stepping away from the group that had consumed you for the last hour. You head straight out of the banquet room and into the lobby of the executive building that was hosting this shit fest. You were so annoyed with Zayn. Since when did he even enjoy events like this? He never left your side for events unless he had to do something with the group. Nothing was required of him with the group tonight yet he had still spent most of the night away from you, laughing from across the room, not bothering to even check on you and the status of the pretentious group you were in. You search street for the car that was supposedly waiting for you. As you approach the black SUV you had arrived in, the driver gets out. “Where is the lad?” He asks, opening your door. “He’s busy,” you reply. The driver shuts your door and walks back to get into his seat. “So where are we going?” “Home,” you counter, annoyance in your tone. “Are we waiting..” “No,” you interrupt his statement. You would not be waiting for Zayn to finish up anything, you were going home. He doesn’t bother to learn anymore, sensing that tonight had not gone to plan for you. The ride was quiet, peaceful even. Those people that had surrounded you had really gotten to you, you realize. How could Zayn just leave you like that? This seemed like the only thing going through your mind. Especially since you had told him over and over that you didn’t want to go. It was his promise that made the final decision; the promise that he would keep you occupied so that you could have a decent time. You walk the path to your front door once the car stops in your driveway, your heels digging into the stone. You step into the dark house fuming. The quiet ride had only provided you with everything you needed to become more and more angry with Zayn for leaving you. As you walk to the bedroom to change out of the dress you had put on only a few hours prior you stop in front of the room across the hall; his art room. You open the door, the smell of spray paint immediately hitting you. You turn the light on, seeing all of the new projects he had been working on. In the floor was a canvas, nearly finished by the looks of it. He had a talent, you couldn’t deny him that. You stare down at the canvas, a mixture of black and red paint intermingled with a caricature of what you assumed to be the Grim Reaper. He was proud of this one, you could tell. As you continue to stare you can’t help but think the painting is missing something; something only you can provide. You raise your leg up, slamming your heal into the canvas, piercing the material, leaving a hole directly in the center. Had you just taken things too far? Possibly.
Take away the sensation inside Bittersweet migraine in my head It’s like a throbbing toothache of the mind I can’t take this feeling anymore
He had driven you away. Sometime between forgotten anniversaries and too many nights of stumbling home just a little too late he had lost you. It was always the same excuses. “I was just out with the guys baby, you have nothing to worry about.” “Just a late night studio session. Can’t seem to get the words just right.” “I ran into an old friend and we went out for drinks, no big deal babe.” And you always understood, you always welcomed him home with open arms and an even more welcoming smile that he would kiss until it turned into a laugh.
But soon those late nights turned into early mornings where you were forced to sleep alone without a single clue as to where your boyfriend was. He would neglect to answer his phone, your presence and your needs slipping from his mind as he partied and lived out the dream he thought he wanted. And so you were forced to fill you time with other things instead of wondering when he was going to come home. But without him, you were left with an empty, bittersweet sensation inside that you couldn’t fill with anything else. You were together, but you were hardly ever together. His behavior was giving you a headache you couldn’t get rid of and you just couldn’t take that feeling anymore. You loved him more than anything but love was a two way streak and you couldn’t wait around forever.
It was 3am when he stumbled in the house on that temperate summer night. He was so drunk he could barely fit his keys in the door, but he was excited to see his girl who always stayed awake for him. “Babyyy, babe where are youuu.” He called out to the empty house. Stumbling up the stairs to your shared bedroom he swung open the door fully expecting to see you laid on the bed in your underwear and one of his tee shirts like you always were. But he was greeted again with an empty room and a note scrawled in your handwriting laying on your side of the bed. Rubbing his eyes to make sure he wasn’t seeing things he picked up the note and read the heartbreaking words.
“I can’t take this feeling anymore. I’m sorry Mikey.” It was signed with your name. Sobering up almost immediately, he gathered his thoughts and began rummaging through your closet. Your suitcase was missing as was most of your clothes and valuables. “No, no, no, no.” He ran his hands through his raven hair in a state of panic. You couldn’t be gone. No, he was in love with you, you couldn’t just be gone. He picked up his phone and dialed the number he knew by heart. “Pick up baby come on.”
“Y/N’s phone leave a message.”
“Baby where are you? Please come home, Y/N I’m so sorry please just come home.” He was sobbing into the phone, praying that you would just pick up and failing to realize it was close to four in the morning and you were likely asleep in a bed that wasn’t his.
He knew why you had left, he just never thought you would actually do it. He knew he didn’t appreciate you enough, didn’t spend enough time with you, that he came home too late, but god no one ever loved a person as much as he loved you, he just has trouble showing it. He had to get you back. He was already starting to feel the throbbing pain of a life without you. He fell into bed, his tear stained cheeks staining your pillowcase as he drank in your scent that was already starting to fade, your name the only thing leaving his lips as he fell into a numb and lonely sleep.
Drain the pressure from the swelling, This sensation’s overwhelming, Give me a long kiss goodnight And everything will be alright Tell me that I won’t feel a thing So give me Novocaine
It had been four days and he still hadn’t been able to reach you. He called all your friends, but they wouldn’t give him any information on you. He went to your work, but you had taken the week off. He called you multiple times a day but it went straight to voicemail. He just needed to talk to you, to make you see that he would try harder this time and that he would put you first no matter what. He knew how stupid he had been and he had no one to blame but himself. Michael could physically feel his heart ache for you. He hadn’t gotten any sleep whatsoever in the past four days. He missed your goodnight kisses, when he was upset you would always tell him everything was going to be alright and with your kiss he would believe it. He didn’t want to feel this anymore. He didn’t want to feel the overwhelming sense of heartbreak and pain that a life without you brought upon him. He wanted to feel you in his arms or nothing at all. He needed relief and you were the only thing that would bring him that.
He tried calling you again. Y/N’s phone leave a message. Your voice calmed him.
“Hey Y/N, just wanted to hear your voice I guess.” He mumbled into the phone. “I haven’t slept since you left. I guess I just don’t know how without your arms around me. Please talk to me baby. Fuck, I can’t even call you that anymore. Please pick up the phone Y/N. I’m so sorry. Fuck, I should’ve loved you better when you were mine. I don’t know how to love someone that’s not you. I need you to take away the pain. Please Y/N I just…I just love you. Call me soon.”
Out of body and out of mind Kiss the demons out of my dreams I get the funny feeling and that’s alright
Eight days without you and the nightmares started. All he saw was your face, but it was always far away from him just out of reach. Demons of his dreams held him back, not allowing him to run to you. He knew he needed you to fight them off because he couldn’t do it on his own. Some nights dreamt like it was an out of body experience. He saw himself and you together and it gave him the feeling that everything was alright again. With you everything was perfect and without he he was going out of his mind. The boys had been around a few times, but he wasn’t in the mood to be with anyone that wasn’t you, something he wished he could have felt when you were still here. Michael didn’t know he was capable of this kind of longing. He called your voicemail again for what felt like the thousandth time.
“The inbox of the person you are trying to reach is full. Please hang up and try again.” The automated voice on the other end of the line rang out. ‘Try again’ like he hadn’t been trying for the last week. He missed your voice, and your smile, and the way your hair fell in front of your face only so he could move it out of the way as he went in for a kiss. He missed the taste of your lips and the curve of your body against his. He missed how you knew everything about him, how you would help him dye his hair on a whim, how you would crinkle your nose when he did something dumb but would let him kiss you anyways. He missed talking to you for hours into the night about the universe and everything in it. He missed showing you new music only to hear you singing the lyrics around the house for weeks afterwards. He missed your cooking and the way his shirts smelled after you wore them. He would give anything to have it all back. To have you back. But Michael wasn’t stupid. He knew you couldn’t treat a person like he had treated you in the last couple months and then just expect them to drop everything whenever you asked. You were a strong woman, he knew that better than anyone, and you couldn’t put up with his ignorance forever.
Give me a long kiss goodnight And everything will be alright Tell me that I won’t feel a thing So give me Novocaine
Ten days. The numbness had taken over, but every face still looked like yours. He sat on the couch, staring at the TV screen blankly. He hadn’t showered in three days and he hadn’t eaten in two. He hadn’t gotten a full night of sleep since you left him, as he was plagued by nightmares.
There was a knock at the door. At first he thought he was hearing things because the knock was soft and light, but he heard it nonetheless. He hauled himself off the couch and clambered over to the door, unlocking the chain and swinging it open.
There you stood. Eyes haggard, and hair pulled up. You were glad in one of his hoodies that he hadn’t even noticed was gone.
“Hi Michael.” Your voice was soft, music to his ears but he was stunned to see you here. He tried to answer but the words he had spent so long going over in his head were stuck in his throat. “Can I come in?” You asked meekly and he cleared his throat.
“Yes, uh, yeah of course.” He stuttered. You came inside the apartment as he closed the door behind you, praying that he wouldn’t have to watch you walk out of it. “Um how have you been.” You asked awkwardly. But Michael was having none of this small talk.
“I’ve been calling you. Did you get my messages? I’ve been trying to reach out to you, but it’s like you disappeared off the face of the earth.” He choked out.
“Yeah I got them…” Michael couldn’t help but notice that you looked just as tired as he felt. Your once sparkling eyes were dull and had dark circles underneath them, painted there by lack of sleep.
“Why didn’t you call me back? I’ve been a wreck without you! I can’t sleep or eat and I barely feel anything! You just left me with no warning and I…” But he was cut off.
“How do you think I felt when I was here? I never knew when you were going to come home and when you did you were usually drunk and it was so late and I just couldn’t take it anymore Michael!” Your words rendered him silent and he looked down in shame, knowing that you were right, but you continued. “I couldn’t take it…But I can’t take not being with you even more. Michael I miss you so much, and I tried to hard to stay away from you but I just can’t. I love you so much and I haven’t slept either and this sweatshirt doesn’t smell like you anymore and I just, I wouldn’t rather be with you than anything else!” Tears were streaming down your face as you let out all the emotions you had been bottling up to save you the pain. “I don’t want to feel the pain I’ve been feeling without you. I need you Michael.”
Michael was quick to react to your confession as he was at your side in two strides. He took your face in his hands and wiped the tears from your eyes with his calloused thumbs. “Baby don’t cry. It’s all my fault I know. I should have payed you more attention and spent more time with you. God, I don’t even know what I was doing, I just…I got so caught up in other shit when I should have been with you. I would have rather been with you anyway. I still want to be with you. You being gone showed me I need you a hell of a lot more than you need me and I would give anything for you to come back to me baby. I love you so much more than all that other shit. I love you so much.” He kissed your forehead and you wrapped your arms around his middle.
“I want to come back Michael. I want you.” Michael took a deep breath at your words like he had been given a shot of novocaine. Instantly the pain went away.
“You keep me sane baby. You make me whole. I don’t ever want to be without you again.” He tilted your chin up so he could look at you fully.
“Tell me everything’s going to be alright Mikey. Tell me I’m not going to feel that pain again.”
“Everything’s going to be alright.” He whispered before attaching his lips to yours. You were a breath of fresh air, a shot of adrenaline. Never had he felt so whole than he did when you were in his arms.
He closed his eyes, savoring the taste of you. You were back in his arms, and he was never going to let you go. Everything was finally right again and you were the reason for it. “I love you baby. And I won’t ever let you forget it again.”