#'why is your ex friend dressed up as your favourite movie character?'

[cantquitu]

Have you seen any of the absolute lunacy on Seas blog at the moment? Wishing death on Harry, ranting and raving due to the fact Harry dressed up as Danny from Grease because...Louis also played him in a school production and its his favourite movie. You cant make it up, I dont think Harry has given Louis any real thought for 7 years. Her blog is a crazy place at the moment.

I haven't seen it, but if you had asked me to guess what her blog was like today...what you've described is exactly what I would have said :)

edit: ok it's even worse than I'd imagined! A literal parody!! :D

[xo-infinitestrength]

Note - 07/18/2024

What time did you get up this morning? Around 7:30ish

How do you like your coffee?  Two cream two sugar

What was the last film you saw at the cinema? Couple weeks ago, Jatt and Juliet 3

What is your favorite TV show? Boy Meets World and SITC

If you could live anywhere in the world where would it be? Idk actually

What was your last meal? Chicken strips and fries

What are your favorite cuisines? Italian and Indian

What foods do you dislike? Eggplant

Favorite place to eat?  The go to is always Dennys or BarBurrito

Favorite dressing? Greek

What kind of vehicle do you drive? Nissan Sentra

What are your favorite clothes? Sweats and a hoodie

Where would you visit if you had the chance? I’d love to go to Italy and Spain

Cup 1/2 empty or 1/2 full? Full

Where would you want to retire? Somewhere warm

Favorite time of day?  The morning

Where were you born? North York, Ontario

What is your favorite sport to play? Lately badminton

How many siblings? 1

Favorite pastime/hobby? Music, reading, tumblr

Who are you closer to, your mom or dad? My dad

Bird watcher? Not particularly

Are you a morning person or a night person? Morning

Do you have any pets? No

Any new and exciting news you’d like to share? No

What did you want to be when you were little? A teacher

What is your best childhood memory? Summer nights with my friends at the park back in 2004

Are you a cat or dog person? Dog

Favourite colour? Green

Always wear your seat belt? Yes

Been in a car accident? Yes

Any pet peeves? Loud chewing, chewing with your mouth open

Favorite Pizza Toppings? Cheese

Favorite Flower? Sunflowers and Jasmine’s

Favorite ice cream? Cookies and cream

Favorite meal? Pizzaaa

Have you had a bad breakup? Yes

Are you and your ex friends? No

Do you think a calm conversation can sort things out between you and your ex? No

From whom did you get your last email? My client

Which store would you choose to max out your credit card? On all the airplane deals no stores

Do anything spontaneous lately? Naaa

Like your job? I do

Are you happy? Sure

What is your favourite season? Autumn

Last person you went out to lunch with? My friendsss

What are you listening to right now? SITC

How many tattoos do you have? None!

Coffee Drinker? I ammmm

What piece of advice would you like to give to your high school self? Calm down bitch

When you were a kid, what name did you give your favorite toy or stuffed animal? Probably babbu or something lmao

What character from a movie/book/show do you relate to the most and why? Amazing Amyyyy because she was brilliant

What is your favorite line from any movie? I’ll break the sound barrier for you.

What was your kindergarten teacher like? The absolute sweetest

If you could meet any author, who would it be and why? Robert Munsch and thank him for my childhood

If you wore one, what did your prom dress look like? I wore 2 lmao, one was pink with green flowers and a green waist band and the other was royal blue and velvet, they both sound horrendous now

If you could be any kind of animal, which would you be? A dog

Is a hot dog a sandwich? Ummm I think so

Have you ever seen a ghost? Ya every day

 If you could only subscribe to one YouTube channel for the rest of your life, which would you choose? Jenna Marbles, I miss her

[harrys-titties]

Y/N and Harry hate each other, until they don’t. 

29K+

Warnings: Asshole Harry, A LOT of swearing (I’m sorry,) mentions of anxiety, a questionable game of drink or truth & smut 

(A/N FINALLY I FINISHED!!  Blood, sweat and tears has been put into this one, so I hope you all enjoy! Love you all <3 Also you may have to open in your web browser bc she is big af xx) 

-masterlist-

It wasn't that Y/N didn't like Harry, in all honesty, she didn't know him well enough to come to that conclusion. But from what she'd seen so far, she wasn't too impressed. She had never found it too challenging to make new friends, often finding herself able to get along with even the oddest of characters, but with Harry, it was a different story.

Perhaps if they weren’t forced to stay in the same house during quarantine, having to spend days on end with only each other and their housemates to cure their boredom, things would be different. Maybe, just maybe Harry wouldn’t have come across as so disagreeable and overbearing. 

However, at this rate, Y/N was led to believe it was just who he was. An asshole who had somehow tricked the entire planet into believing he was the epitome of the ‘boy next door’ stereotype. 

Sarah, Y/N’s cousin, had called her sometime around July, asking her if she wanted to quarantine with her, her boyfriend, Mitch and a few mates rather than alone in her somewhat dingy apartment. Y/N had immediately jumped at the opportunity. Quarantining by herself had already proved to be somewhat tricky and incredibly depressing. While she loved her charming little abode, she was certainly not prepared to spend the next few months stuck inside it, alone, watching ‘Friends’ reruns with a bottle of wine and only her three potted cacti to keep her company. 

So, naturally, that led her to the doorstep of Sarah and Mitch's huge shared house with butterflies in her stomach, imagining what her new housemates would be like. 

Sarah had told Y/N all about Mitch, Jeff and Harry, exclaiming how funny, kind and welcoming they would be, and well, Y/N was excited, she needed some new friends. After her last break up about a year ago, had lost her a boyfriend and subsequently the mutual friends of his that she thought had become hers too, she felt slightly lonely. For Y/N the chance to cure isolation boredom blues and make some new friends was an offer she wouldn't dream of refusing. 

Upon arrival, Y/N noticed that Sarah's description fit Jeff and Mitch to a tee, but Harry? Well, he barely managed to squeeze into it. When she'd walked through the door, Mitch had immediately offered to take her bags and even offered her some of his favourite tea to help her relax after her relatively stressful journey. Jeff gave her a huge hug and asked what her favourite snacks were so he could add them to the shopping list. And Harry? He sat in silence with his head practically glued to his phone, hardly even sparing a glance in her direction. 

Y/N didn't let this discourage her. She prided herself on being friendly and often easy to get along with and so approached him readily. However, greeting him with a cheerful, "it's nice to meet you!" and her renowned smile had only earned her a grunt and a disinterested look. Maybe he was just having a bad day?

On the drive to Sarah’s house, Y/N had been thinking about how exciting it was to be able to meet him. While she’d never been an avid fan of his music, she wasn’t blind to the enormous impact he had on the industry. He seemed kind and beyond charming, and well, Y/N had a working pair of eyes, she knew how handsome he was. She had only ever heard good things and was excited to get to know the man who had made her cousin's dreams come true. 

However, Harry's blase and borderline rude personality really rubbed her the wrong way. Y/N could understand having a rough day, even she could get a bit grumpy the days leading up to her period, but Harry's impertinence surpassed a simple 'bad day' or two. He was impossible! He would hardly even acknowledge her existence, and on the rare occasion when he did, he was insolent and passive-aggressive. He would nitpick everything Y/N did, from the way she would dress to something as simple as how much soy sauce she had on her sushi! Y/N didn't know how she would survive another week with him, let alone the whole of isolation. 

Maybe loneliness, copious amounts of alcohol and friends reruns would’ve been the better option. 

——

It wasn't that Harry didn't like Y/N, in all honesty, he didn't know her well enough to come to that conclusion. There was just something about her that grated on his nerves. It could possibly be the fact that Sarah had insisted she was his type before he'd even met her. While Harry had countered, unless she looked exactly like the ex he was still very much pining over he doubted it to be true, Sarah had insisted. She showed him picture after picture from their trip to Europe together, pointing out how pretty Y/N's hair looked, or how dazzling her smile was.

While there was a resemblance to the girl on his mind, Harry doubted it was enough to remind him of the heartbreak she had instilled upon him. Alas, Harry was wrong. When Y/N had floated through the door without a care in the world, Harry had frozen. While Y/N did kind of resemble his past girlfriend Elle, it was the way she acted that frustrated Harry more. She had the same air about her, carried herself in the same way that Elle did, with humble confidence and poise.  

Harry hated it. The more he got to know Y/N, the more he realised that she was somehow simultaneously similar and completely different from the girl he was still in love with, and he hated it. She was a constant reminder of what he could no longer have, and he didn't know if he wished Y/N were more like Elle so he could have a part of her back, or if he wished she was a completely different person altogether.

Either way, Harry could hardly hold in the frustration he felt around her, snapping at anything she said and nit-picking her every move. 

While he knew he was acting unreasonably, he barely had a cause to stop it. 

——

Y/N was usually self-confident and relatively sure of herself, but she was also stubborn, and for some reason was bothered by Harry's opinion of her more than she cared to admit. 

So, over the first few days of her staying at the house, Y/N had tried her hardest to get Harry to like her, but her endeavours only seemed to further annoy him. She baked him carrot cake because she'd heard it was his favourite, but with a screwed up nose, Harry had swiped his finger through the icing to taste it and grumbled, "way too sweet," before retreating back to his room. Y/N was embarrassed as Sarah had given her a sympathetic look and insisted "everyone else will love it!" 

When doing her washing, she added Harry's whites with hers and even went so far as to dry and fold them too. But when she woke the next day, the clothes had been taken from the laundry, and Y/N was not given a spare glance.

 Harry had insisted they watch a horror movie during their weekly movie night, and Y/N didn't say a word of opposition, even though she knew she would have nightmares that night. Sarah had even tried to say something on her behalf, but Y/N quickly hushed her, not wanting to cause a scene and have Harry hate her even more than he already did. 

But Y/N's quick agreeance to watch 'Halloween' disagreed with her a lot more than she thought it would. She had hardly slept at all, jumping at the smallest of sounds and debating the probability of a murderous man being able to break into the house. When she turns again for what seemed like the fiftieth time that night, only to be met with the glaring '3:30' from the mickey mouse alarm clock she had nearly forgotten to pack, she gives up. 

In an attempt to calm herself down from the numerous haunting images flashing through her mind, Y/N begins her trek to the kitchen. A cool glass of water and perhaps one of the cupcakes Sarah and herself had baked the day before, would surely put her overworked mind at ease. 

As Y/N begins to walk down the stairs, she can't help but imagine behind every door a murderer with a knife, that each step in the pitch black was one closer to her death. The eerie silence of the house full of sleeping people only made her feel worse. 

Scolding herself for ever agreeing to watch the stupid movie in the first place, she turns around to flick on the lights to the hallway and stairway. Feeling slightly more comfortable now that she could see, she walked downstairs only to repeat the process in the kitchen, dining room and living room until the whole house, bar upstairs, was flooded with light.

Standing in the fully lit kitchen with a mug of hot chocolate she had found in the cupboard and munching away at the sweet treat, Y/N finally begins to feel somewhat safe. That is until a dark figure suddenly emerges from the hallway.

 "Harry! What the fuck? You scared the shit out of me," she exclaims while clutching at her rapidly beating chest. With his chestnut curls in a tangled heap upon his head, one sock on and clad in only a white shirt and boxers, he looks slightly worse for wear. "What the fuck are you doing, making such a racket at four in the fucking morning?" His voice sounds strained as if he'd just woken up and his face is screwed in annoyance as he points at the provincial-style clock hanging on the wall for emphasis. 

Y/N hesitates, she knew telling Harry his movie choice had kept her awake would not end well, "I- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you or anything." At this, he scoffs, "didn't mean to wake me, huh? Turning on every fuckin’ light and slammin’ cupboards will usually do that to a person." 

Now Harry knows he's being mean, can hear the way his accent thickens with annoyance and can see how she flinches with every raised decibel, and it makes him pause some. He realises there’s more than likely a reasonable explanation as to why she’s awake at such an hour. He's a dick, but he's not a bloody monster, and as he sees her eyes well up with tears, he decides his anger can be put on the backburner.

 "Why are you even awake?" At the softened tone in his voice, Y/N seems to visibly relax some but still remains tense. "I, um, I really hate horror movies, and I was scared, and I couldn't sleep." He sighs, and his voice lowers even more, "Is that why all the lights are on?" She nod's sheepishly, "why didn't you say anythin'? You were the first to bloody agree to watch the movie." 

"You already hate me enough, I didn't want to give you another reason!" Harry's not sure why his chest slightly aches at that, because if he's honest, she's right, he doesn't really like her at all. As soon as she’d walked through the door and up the stairs to get sorted in her new room, he'd approached Mitch. He'd even made a proper scene, asking why she had to quarantine with them. Mitch had defended her, pointing out that everyone else liked her perfectly fine so far, which Harry supposes was a part of his problem with her. He had made sure she knew of his distaste too, barely even paying her mind, and only doing so to mock her. 

So why it felt like his heart was cracking just slightly, he'll never know, but it does lead him to walk towards her slowly, "I can't really sleep either, did you want to watch tv with me until you can?" If Harry was truthful, he'd actually been sleeping like a baby before he heard the cupboard doors shut slightly above acceptable volume considering the time. However, the way her mouth pouted somewhat, and her eyes misted as she acknowledged his dislike for her made him feel awful. 

So as he sits on the couch with her, now donned with his own steaming cup of hot chocolate, he leaves the lights on and gives her his favourite blanket to wrap herself in. He sits on the opposite side of the couch and tries his hardest not to fall asleep, so Y/N could feel somewhat protected.

After a few episodes of 'SpongeBob' had played he looks over to the other side of the sofa and sees Y/N fast asleep, snoring with her head tilted at a slightly unnatural angle. He can't help the smile that finds its way onto his face, as he turns off the television and settles himself further into the couch to hopefully catch a few hours of sleep too. 

——

To say Y/N is confused would be an understatement. While she wasn't expecting to wake up to Harry presenting a friendship bracelet and a new found love for her, she was expecting him to at least stop hating her.

She was surprised at his kindness last night. She knows Harry gave her his favourite blanket. Jeff was always griping on movie nights because Harry manages to nab it before Jeff has the chance and although he claimed he couldn't sleep, Harry's croaky voice and dishevelled hair led her to believe he was in fact lying.

She definitely hadn't expected him to offer to watch cartoons with her. She also definitely had not expected to wake in the middle of the night to find herself pressed against him with his arms tightly wrapped around her.

 Y/N briefly considered moving back to her side of the couch, but if she was being entirely truthful, she missed cuddling. It was one of her favourite things about being in a relationship, and ever since her last one had crashed and burned, she missed the simple feeling of being held. So in her sleep-muddled state, she decided to stay put and hope Harry was as avid a cuddler as she was.  

To be honest, after all that, she thought he'd at least start to acknowledge her existence, or at least not act as if it was the bane of his. However, when Y/N awakes the next day, Harry is in the kitchen with Jeff and Sarah, debating on where to start their tour when quarantine ends. He moves animatedly and is clearly laughing and joking about as he usually does with the other occupants of the house. But when she enters, he instantly stops talking and instead puts his head down, seemingly very focused on shovelling his pancakes into his mouth. 

Y/N hopes, with every part of her being, that he didn't wake up feeling disgusted by her unconscious affection, but she knew it was a real possibility. And suddenly it feels like she had taken one step forward and two giant steps back.

So yes, Y/N is understandably confused. 

——

When Harry had woken up overheated, and with a stifling sense of claustrophobia, he was understandably confused. As he opens his eyes, he recognises the living room's shaggy carpet and cream walls; however, it takes him a few seconds to process why he was actually here rather than in his own bedroom.

The pressure against his chest causes him to startle some, and when he looks down to see Y/N still huddled under his favourite blanket but now pressed against him rather than the opposite end of the couch, the feeling doesn't fade but instead escalates.

How did they end up in this position? Harry knew he was a cuddler, any past lover would be able to tell you that, but that was usually with people he... liked? Why the fuck was she on top of him?

He can just see the side of her face, while the other looks to be uncomfortably pressed against him. Her hair no longer resembles the bun she usually goes to sleep with but a nest upon her head, and what looks like dried drool is smeared across the corner of her rosy lips. 

Harry can admit she's cute. In a puppy that's just been kicked kind of way. He feels compelled to brush the strands of hair away from her face and wipe the spit away with the hem of his shirt, but Y/N moving in her sleep draws his focus away. He sees his lanky legs tangled with hers and for the first time notices his arms also wrapped around her, keeping her close. 

While a half-asleep Y/N is clearly trying to change her position, his gangly limbs keep her from doing so. And Harry panics. He should not be cuddling with Y/N of all people. Instantly and as gently as possible, he rolls her off him and stands from the couch, only to hear a muffled groan of opposition from the sleeping girl. 

Harry was confused, to say the least. He knows it's not a big deal. Two, friends? No. Acquaintances? Hm nope, 'roommates?'... had fallen asleep next to each other on the couch and woken up slightly tangled. It wouldn't be that much of an issue if the last person Harry had woken up next to hadn't been the ex-girlfriend he was very much still broken-hearted because of. Don't get him wrong, it had felt nice to be close to someone again, but perhaps that's the reason why Harry begins to panic even more. 

So, Harry folds up the blanket he had been using, walks to the toilet and convinces himself not to think of it again. And it's also for this reason, that Harry can't seem to look Y/N in the eye as she walks into the kitchen. He knows she's looking at him in confusion, and he feels slightly guilty, but what was he supposed to do? Greet her with a cuddle and ask if she'd slept as well as he did? No, Harry would act like nothing had happened, and pray that a problem wouldn't arise from that.

But of course, Harry should have known better. 

——

Y/N was quite the baker. She had worked a few summers in her Aunties little bakery and had loved it, but even with her passion and keen eye for icing cakes, there was only so much sweet treat making she could do. She was more participating in copious amounts of isolation baking to please poor Sarah, who was struggling with boredom, and who also happened to love sweets. 

So, whenever Sarah would run into her room with a new suggestion, or send her a link to a 'totally awesome' muffin recipe, Y/N would simply bite her tongue and help gather the ingredients. They had already managed to make cupcakes, banana bread, chocolate chip cookies and cheesecake. So when a new recipe comes through while Y/N reads her book in front of the pool, she wonders what other baked goods could even possibly exist for them to make. 

Alas, macarons. Y/N sighed and walked to the kitchen, where she knew Sarah would be preparing their ingredients. "Hey bug, ready to bake the best macarons ever?" On the inside, Y/N started dramatically weeping, but on the outside, she exclaims, "sure am! These might be a bit more difficult than anything we've tried though." Sarah scoffs, "oh please, we're up for the challenge." 

It's then Y/N notices Harry sitting at the island bench, and he catches her staring, "what? 'M bored." She only nods in response, not really one for conflict. "Are you helping us cook? We could use an extra hand." Y/N kind of hopes he'd say yes, maybe a bit of cooperative, team bonding would mend whatever weird rift they had between them. 

However, Harry screws up his nose at her suggestion as if what she had said was the stupidest thing he'd ever heard. Before he has the chance to snarkily reply to her, Sarah butts in, "Harry actually used to be a baker! Didn't you H." Harry can see Y/N's eyes light up and knows that whatever comes out of her mouth next, he was more than likely going to despise. "I used to work in a bakery too!"

Now, if there was an award for sarcasm, Y/N's sure Harry would probably win it. When he pulls his lips into an over-exaggerated smile and says, "twinnies!" with such derision that it burns, Y/N's smile falls. She didn't know what his problem was. Had it really bothered him that much that they'd accidentally cuddled in their sleep? Who had hurt the poor guy so much that a simple night-time spoon was the be-all or end-all? 

She really hadn't meant it, guessed she'd missed sleeping next to a warm body and naturally gravitated towards him. She liked a good cuddle, for fuck's sake, who didn't? If she could turn back time, she would've stayed in bed, wracked with fear if it meant she wouldn't have to deal with Harry's bullshit.

Rather than responding, Y/N puts her head down and begins to read the instructions Sarah had helpfully printed out. Harry is about to make a snide comment, praying that her baking abilities have improved since the carrot cake she had attempted to make, but he gets distracted by the way the afternoon sun is hitting her skin. 

Was Y/N kind of attractive? For the first time, he notices that while she had similar features to his ex, Y/N was pretty on her own accord. 

While often messy, her hair looked so soft, and her eyes were wide and held a sense of innocence. If Harry looked close enough, he could see the tiny acne spots she hadn't bothered to cover and the small bags under her eyes. He briefly wonders if she'd been getting enough sleep and if he had any of the 'sleepy-time' tea left that had worked so well for him before he realises what he was thinking. 

This was Y/N, not Elle, not some chick he'd been fucking, it was Y/N. Maybe he was just confused about his feelings. That was the first time he'd slept next to someone in a while. And well, Y/N was an admittedly pretty girl, and Harry was an admittedly lonely guy who was attracted to pretty girls…

Yeh, there was nothing for him to worry about. 

Y/N mistakes Harry's staring as a glare and does her best to avoid looking at him. She didn't want him to see the well of tears in her eyes and give him the satisfaction. By now, she knew he had meant to upset her, and he had succeeded. 

It was a shame, he really was an attractive guy. Y/N is fully aware that if she'd seen him at a bar, acting the way he did with Sarah and the guys, she'd be instantly in love. She imagines him at school years ago, he probably would’ve been the guy that everyone developed a crush on at least once, boys and girls alike, and has no doubt he probably knew it too. 

Unfortunately, Y/N had not met him in a way akin to a romantic novel. No, she only knew him as an ass who tended to treat her like the dirt stuck to the treads of his overpriced shoes. The only thing Y/N could do was just try her best to ignore him. 

——

As it turns out, Y/N was right, macarons were a lot harder than anything Sarah, and she had previously tried to make. Y/N was tired, frustrated and too sweaty for simply baking glorified cookies. The macarons had taken so long to make, and worst of all, the first batch had come out of the oven flat and stiff as a board. Sarah had pulled out the tray as Y/N was beginning to wash the bowls with a hesitant, "are they supposed to be flat?" 

Turns out they were not supposed to be flat at all. Y/N tried to hide her distaste as she chewed through one of the shells, but when she saw Sarah's face mirroring hers, she giggled. Harry, who had been sitting at the bench, completing a crossword puzzle, also laughed, "guess you aren't as good at baking as you thought you were." 

Y/N would be offended, but notices he's mainly talking to Sarah, and his jesting tone suggests he's not even acknowledging her. "Here, try one. They aren't that bad," Sarah hands him one and he huffs before taking a bite, "better not poison me. You'll have millions of fans to answer to." 

As he chews, it’s apparent that he's not particularly enjoying it. After a hefty swallow, he tugs at his bottom lip with his thumb and forefinger as if in deep thought. "These are single-handedly the worst macarons I've ever had in my entire life. And I say that with absolute confidence." 

While Sarah scoffs and laughs, admonishing Harry with a gentle slap on his arm, Y/N is entirely distracted. She had never seen anyone else with the same habit as her ex. Ben would tug at his bottom lip when deep in thought, and there Harry was, exhibiting the exact same habit. She was astonished, and she hates to admit it, but small butterflies form in the pit of her stomach. She always had, for some unknown reason found it an oddly attractive trait.

While others might be attracted to muscles or deep dimples, Y/N found the little quirks of others most captivating. She loved the drunken ramblings and the uncontrollable tears during sad films. She loved watching people discover their favourite song and the way they would sing under their breath. She loved the unmade beds, dust-covered books, and overwatered plants. She loved the way people would stutter on certain words or adopt weird nicknames they had heard in their favourite movies. She loved pet peeves and the stories behind them and the routines that they followed. Y/N had always loved people. She loved the things that made individuals uniquely them, and this quirk that Harry shared with Ben, was no different. 

If he notices her staring, he doesn't draw attention to it, only continues to banter with Sarah, while Y/N stands in the middle of the kitchen, lost in thought. It’s Sarah's voice that draws her out of her reverie, "c'mon Y/N let's try another batch. I want to surprise Mitch for movie night, he loves these things."

——

This movie-night, Y/N wanted to make sure she would be able to sleep at the end of it, and for that reason, horror movies were off the table- much to Harry's dismay. Sarah, Mitch and Jeff, readily agreed, and after some pushing from Jeff and the girls, everyone agreed to watch a rom-com. The question was which one. 

As Sarah scrolls through the movie selections, 'Clueless' catches Y/N’s eye, and she immediately yells out the suggestion with vivid excitement and is promptly met with... silence. "Guys? Clueless is icon-" Y/N starts, only to be interrupted by none other than Harry, "'s a shit movie, we aren't watching it." Before Y/N can object, Sarah comes to her defence, "oi H, don't be an asshole. We know it was Elle's favourite, don't need to take it out on poor Y/N."

While Y/N prides herself on being understanding and kind, she knows she can be a tad oblivious to what's going on around her at times. She had tried to pick up on it when she noticed it and improve because it had indeed gotten her into some awful situations. And if only Y/N had paid a bit more attention to the situation around her, she may not have spat out her next words. She may have noticed Harry's misty eyes and pursed lips, Sarah's empathetic gaze towards him, Mitch's awkward glance in Harry's direction and Jeff's head buried in his hands. Alas, she didn't.

 "Who's Elle?"  

Silence. Y/N is met with nothing but silence. After a while, she can vaguely hear Jeff letting out the breath of air he had clearly been holding in, and Mitch's mumbled "oh god" under his breath, but she was much too focused on Harry's gaze that was now piercing into hers. "None of your business," he gets out through gritted teeth. 

Y/N is somewhat taken aback, she can clearly see that whoever Elle was, she was a sensitive topic for Harry and immediately tries to backtrack. "Oh, um I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" For the second time that night, Harry interrupts her. "Does anyone want popcorn? We forgot to get some." He stands from the couch, now avoiding Y/N's gaze altogether, and she looks around the room to try and gauge the situation. 

The only one in the room paying her any notice is Sarah, who shares the same empathetic look with her that she had given Harry not two minutes ago. Sarah mouths ‘ex-girlfriend' at Y/N, and it's safe to say she feels awful. While she didn't particularly like Harry, she would never intentionally hurt anyone, and she makes the snap decision to follow him, in order to apologise to him properly. 

When she enters the kitchen, Harry is leaning on the counter facing away from her. His shoulders seem tense, and his hair is dishevelled as if he'd been continuously running his fingers through it.

"Harry, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to bring up such a sensitive topic." At her voice, Harry's shoulders seem to hunch further, and he turns around while taking a deep breath, "just drop it yeah? Think you've done enough." 

Y/N didn't think that was fair. She really hadn't known, and if she had, she wouldn't have even thought of mentioning it. "I didn't know Harry. I won't bring her up again." Y/N had grown familiar with the way Harry's accent thickened sometimes. It happened when he was tired or bored. It was most frequently when he was angry, which seemed to be a common occurrence when she was concerned, and now was no exception. "No shit, stop stickin' your nose into other people's business." 

In any other circumstance, Harry might have noticed the way Y/N's eyes instantly started to water, or how she'd retreated and hunched slightly into herself in submission. Harry had noted she was a sensitive little thing, and while he often tried to get on her nerves, when he saw her nose twitch and eyes mist up, he knew to back off. But currently, he could only see red, and the fact Y/N had made no attempt to move, made his fury run even more rampant through his veins. “Fuck off Y/N, I'm not kiddin'. Go back to the living room." 

"But Harry, I-" Y/N attempts to get out, but Harry's raised voice causes her to immediately stop. "I said, fuck off!" At that, Y/N snaps. For weeks, she had been doing nothing but try to please Harry, but there was just no pleasing him. He was arrogant, apathetic to everyone around him, pretentious, stubborn and worst of all, just plain rude. 

"You're a real asshole, you know that. I understand you're upset, and I'm sorry I caused it, but you don't need to treat me like shit,” she sniffles. “I have tried so fucking hard to get on your good side, but I'm done trying. It's time for you to wake up and realise not everyone is going to hurt you like precious Elle clearly did." Y/N expects Harry to do many different things, she prepares for him to begin screaming, perhaps start crying? She briefly wonders if he would go so far as to push her out of the way and storm out of the room. 

Although, one prospect she didn’t consider was for him to start laughing. "Oh Jesus pet, you think you're that special? You think you can even begin to be compared to her? Think I'm scared you'll.. what? Break my heart?" As he continued to speak, the sound of his voice grew as did his rage. The veins on the side of his neck only became more pronounced, and the crease in his brow caused his whole face to contort. 

The increase in volume had caused an audience to gather. Jeff, Sarah and Mitch stand in the kitchen entrance helplessly watching the two rip into each other. Mitch is the first to step in, "Harry c'mon, that's enough." 

"Fuck off Mitch, stay out of it." He turns back to Y/N, "please, sweetheart, save yourself the heartbreak. Have you ever considered that maybe I just don't like you? You're fucking annoying, and your pathetic attempts to get me to like you are even more so. What were you hoping would come from it? I'd ignore the fact you grate on my nerves 24/7 and pay you a bit of attention? Maybe even get you off once or twice? Is that it?"

Sarah is next to attempt to break up the fight, "Y/N don't bother, Harry's just upset."

It took a lot to get Y/N mad. She was usually calm, maybe a bit emotional, but very rarely did she raise her voice. But Harry, with his constant grouching and aggressive nature, had pushed her well and truly past that point. "Save it, Sarah. Are you fucking serious Harry? I was just trying to be a nice person. I'm not sure how to tell you this, but not everybody is trying to get into your pants. Guess you'd be so used to girls throwing themselves at you until they have a fucking conversation with you and see what a dick you actually are." 

He snarls at that, "trust me pet, they're proper gaggin' for it." Y/N scrunches her nose in disgust, "You're fucking disgus-" The quietest of the group is the next to interrupt. "Oh for fucks sake, both of you, shut up!" 

Jeff was usually quietly spoken and hardly ever lost his temper, he was similar to Y/N in that regard. As Harry's manager, he had formed a close relationship with the green-eyed boy over the past few years, and not once had Harry ever heard Jeff raise his voice. So when Jeff yells, even Harry knows it's time to back off. He stays quiet and instead gives Y/N one last lingering glare before retreating upstairs to the safety of his room. 

Y/N can't help but burst into tears. She hated conflict, and would usually avoid it at all costs, but Harry deserved to be put in his place a bit. Immediately, Sarah is at her side, attempting to console her, but it only makes her cry harder. Y/N feels pathetic, she hated crying in front of people, and Jeff and Mitch's lost stares were not helping the situation. Sarah follows Y/N's eye line, "can you both get out for a bit?" Both boys all but run out of the kitchen. Now that they were alone, Y/N allows herself to really cry, hoping a good sobbing session would clear her thoughts and emotions from the situation. 

——

Harry was sad. He was not going to say he was always sad, because, in actual fact, Harry was happy a lot of the time. He could admit he had a good life, filled with love, happiness and fun, but there were some times when joy felt more like a mirage to him, something unattainable. 

And maybe it just wasn’t for him, maybe true happiness wasn’t in his cards. 

He was someone who quickly became obsessed, found solace and comfort in certain things. Sometimes so much so it became a flaw, something he felt he would die if he lived without, and one of those was Elle. 

It used to be his mum, then music, then Niall, then Mitch, then Elle and then... nothing. Harry hadn’t found something or someone he felt he could rely on entirely since her. It seemed now he only had himself, and in his mind, that was a potentially dangerous thing. His mum was miles away, Mitch found his own solace with Sarah, Elle had left him, and Harry had never felt so alone. 

Isolation made it worse, he couldn’t distract himself with performing anymore, with drinking his body weight in alcohol or finding pretty girls who looked eerily similar to his ex, to spend a few hours with. So often he found himself uncontrollably crying, alone in bed. Harry never felt shame in crying, but there was something particularly mortifying about being loved by millions of people worldwide, yet still sobbing into his pillow because his girlfriend had broken up with him. Not only dumped him but had cheated on, destroyed him and ripped his heart into little shreds. 

And that’s where Harry was now. Lying in bed, his pillowcase wet with tears, eyes stinging and red, his cheeks stained and raw from his constant rubbing at them, and his back aching from the occasional sob pulling at the already taut muscles. 

Harry just needed a hug. He needed someone to tell him it was okay, that things would work out because at this point he honestly didn’t know himself. 

——

The next few days in the house are hell. Not just for Harry and Y/N but for everyone stuck isolating in the space. Y/N and Harry refused to talk to each other, only sharing pointed glares. Harry does all he can to piss her off, without ever having to say a word. While out for his regular morning walk to buy coffee, he purposely 'forgets' Y/N's. When it was his night to cook, he plays the English rap that he knew she hated at full volume, while making prawn pasta. Which really wouldn't have been an issue, if Y/N wasn't bloody allergic to seafood. While he claimed to not know, Y/N saw through him. Just the week before she had refused to eat lunch when Jeff had made tuna sandwiches and had clearly explained why. 

Y/N tried not to let it bother her and instead did everything she could to avoid him. When he'd come home with everyone's regular coffee order but hers, she exclaimed she "preferred homemade!" and brewed her own cup. She put in headphones and shut her door in an attempt to drown out the crap he called music. And when Harry had placed a massive bowl of steaming pasta that she couldn't fucking eat in front of her, Y/N smiled and ordered pizza instead. 

Mitch struggled through the week, staying as quiet as he usually was. If he was honest, he wished he was just quarantining with Sarah. He loved Harry but also knew that he could be a dick when he wanted to be. So despite Harry's constant prodding for him to join in on shit-talking Y/N, Mitch tried to stay out of it. 

Sarah spent the days keeping Y/N company. She felt slightly guilty that she had invited her to spend isolation stuck in a house with what happened to be the only person Sarah had ever met, who hated Y/N. Instead, she listened to her rant when Harry couldn't overhear. She baked cookies with her, and they sang shitty pop music at the top of their lungs whenever Harry decided to blast his music.  

Once again, Jeff surprised everyone. While they were used to his calming and genuine presence by now, no one expected him to play peacekeeper. Harry supposes he should've seen it coming, being his manager for four years, meant the guy had to have some kind of problem-solving skills. So Harry promptly nicknames Jeff, 'Switzerland' and despite his denials, Harry knew Jeff secretly loved it. 

Jeff spends the next few days quietly talking to all the other house members like some sort of pseudo spy. And finally, after three long days of combat, by some miracle, convinces both Harry and Y/N to talk out their issues and apologise. 

At first, both Y/N and Jeff agreed he should be in the room to mediate, but upon the request of Harry, he was waiting just outside the door, waiting for any sign of a fight, to run in and play referee. 

So that led them here, with Harry sitting on one end of the couch, oozing with confidence while actually being a mess on the inside, and Y/N on the other, nervously picking at the hem of her jumper. 

Harry is the first to speak, "look Y/N I'm sorry. You were right, Elle's a bit of a sore spot for me, and I overreacted." She nods in acknowledgement before speaking herself, "yeh, I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have pried like I did.” He nods along, still somewhat convinced he wasn’t entirely in the wrong. 

It’s the next question that makes Harry’s blood turn cold, “I just… I just need to ask why? What did I do for you to not like me? It started before last night. Before I mentioned… her.” Y/N scoots around the heartbreaker’s name.  

She watches as Harry bites his lip in what looked like deliberation before he replies, a deep sigh sitting on his pretty lips. “I don’t know. I know that’s a shitty thing to say, I treated you like shit for weeks, but it’s true. I just don’t know.” 

Y/N’s taken aback. Weeks of torture, hatred and tears and he couldn’t even tell her why he’d acted the way he did. “Harry, you can’t be serious. There must be something! You... you were so mean.” 

Y/N watches as tears well in his eyes, and she briefly wonders if she shouldn’t have pushed the topic. “I don’t know, I don’t fuckin’ know.” He lashes out, once again, his anger getting the best of him. 

Y/N throws her hands up in defeat, “I don’t know what you want from me, Harry. I’m trying here I really am, but you won’t give me anything. What do you want me to do?” 

“I know you are,” he all but chokes out. Harry didn’t know how to express himself, a million thoughts were running rampant through his mind, and he felt like if he were to try and speak, he’d have to spend hours detangling each thought from the other like shitty Christmas lights. He takes another deep sigh. He had to try, he knew it wasn’t fair to Y/N. And well, Harry wasn’t exactly happy either, maybe it would help to tell someone how he felt. 

“It’s just when I look at you... I see her. I see her in the clothes you wear and the way you laugh. You look the same for fucks sake, give me the same doe-eyed look and.. she never apologised. Never said a word, I found her in bed with my… with my best mate, and she just fucking left,” he cries out. “And when I first saw you, and you gave me that fuckin’ look I just... I just got so angry.” Harry’s face briefly scrunches in frustration, but it’s quickly overcome with grief. 

He begins to cry harder, his shoulders racking with sobs and Y/N doesn’t know what to do. She sits helplessly, watching the man she very much despised breaking down in front of her, crying previously unshed tears with his head in his hands. 

What was she supposed to do? She wasn’t going to say it was alright because it wasn’t. But god, he looks so pitiful, and Y/N knows what it’s like to have a shitty ex. She knows how painful it is to see them again after they’ve just broken your heart, knows how hard it can be to feel completely, totally and 100% betrayed by someone you loved. 

It wasn’t okay, and Y/N doesn’t know if it ever will be, but seeing Harry, the stubborn, prideful man she’d come to know, breaking down in front of her, well Y/N can hardly stand it. 

So she does the first thing she can think of, the one thing that made her feel better after her own breakup. 

She hugs him. 

She feels him tense up in her arms and for a brief second, Y/N wonders if he’s going to push her away, but instead, he relaxes. Even goes so far as to push into her slightly, allowing himself to rest his head against her chest, with her arms around him like a tantrum-throwing toddler. 

Harry can’t remember the last time he was hugged. Maybe by his mum before the pandemic, probably in a similar situation, crying over Elle in a pathetic attempt to find comfort in anything that wasn’t her arms. 

Harry had returned to LA to record three songs, “it would be two to three weeks max,” Jeff had assured him. But now he was fucking stuck here, in the same place he lived with her, heartbroken in a house with people he loved, but unfortunately would never talk about Elle with. 

Harry missed London. He missed him mum, his sister, the pubs and the tube. He missed hanging out with more mates than he could count, his little writing studio and his cat. Harry missed his own bedroom, his candles that he forgot to pack and his own record collection. Harry missed walking to the little cafe a few streets from his house, he missed the snow. 

But Harry especially missed Elle. 

He missed her cuddles and her sweet little kisses. He missed the way her nose scrunched when he tried to kiss her in public. He missed her laugh and her awful cooking. He missed her book recommendations and her screaming to pop music on the radio. Fuck, he even missed her screaming at him. 

And what a way to make his longing worse, being stuck with the dead ringer of his ex-girlfriend, only to find she was nothing like Elle, which Harry almost hated more. 

Y/N wouldn’t yell at him when he got angry but rather cry, her tears always sending a sharp pain to his chest. And Y/N didn’t pretend nothing worried her or upset her, she was open and honest. When Harry hurt her, he knew, not because she ignored him or called him a prat. No, he knew because she told him, even if it was with tears streaming down her face and a few “assholes” mixed in there. Y/N didn’t call Harry’s hobbies stupid, she liked them too, even had her own silly ones herself. She enjoyed baking, doing puzzles, and reading out loud to herself. She liked Disney movies and hated horror and loved cider but not beer. 

And Harry found himself not hating her at all, but rather himself. Because somehow, within his heartbreak, he had managed to become attracted to someone who looked and acted exactly like his ex on the surface but was someone completely different in every other way. He couldn’t treat her like Elle, couldn’t pretend she’d hurt him just as bad, and he knew that.

No, Y/N was a completely new risk and a new potential heartbreak. Harry was terrified, and this new territory that at first felt so familiar, made his chest ache and his tummy flutter, so he avoided it altogether. Pushed her away before anything could even happen at all, for his own good, to protect a heart that couldn’t take being broken again.

The two of them sat there for what felt like hours. Until Harry’s sobs slowed themselves down, and he was only shivering and sniffling quietly. Y/N continued to hold him, it seemed like he just really needed to be held.

Elle had clearly broken his heart, and Y/N knew that a part of healing was letting this anger and emotion run rampant. So she stayed put, allowing him to just sit in the sadness, and allow himself to feel a little bit of hope that everything would work out eventually. 

“It’s okay Harry. It’s going to be okay.” 

——

Y/N wasn’t sure this was a good idea. How could it be? Not even a few days ago, she and Harry couldn’t stand being in the same room as each other, and now they were alone in a car, on their way to the grocery store. It all felt too domestic.

But this was Harry, and she definitely shouldn’t be worried about the state of her car, or how to subtly remove the McDonalds wrapping on the floor in front of his feet. Just as Harry, after being handed the aux cord, probably shouldn’t have spent half the journey wondering if she liked the song that was playing and looking out of the corner of his eye to judge whether he should skip it or not. 

But here they were, walking on eggshells around each other. Hoping they both wouldn’t do something to accidentally piss off the other. 

If you’d told Harry a week ago that he would be on the way to the grocery store with Y/N by his side, he probably would’ve laughed and faked a gag. But Harry was actually the one who had suggested the trip, much to the surprise of not only Y/N but the rest of the housemates. 

They hadn’t exactly addressed his breakdown, but it seemed they’d both come to a mutual understanding to try and put the past behind them. Harry considered himself lucky, he knew he had caused and furthered the rift in their friendship, and it was because of this he knew he had to put more effort into building the trust between them back up. 

So, when Y/N was recounting the ingredients for the dinner she was planning on making, Harry had asked if she’d just come to save him remembering the long list. Y/N’s first thought was she could probably just write it down for him before she realised he was actually trying to be nice. And that was more than she could say for the last month of her living with him, so she agreed.

The grocery store was busy, filled with impatient mothers and fun-drunk teens, and Y/N was having trouble pushing the cart through the throngs of people. Harry was walking ahead of her, too preoccupied with his list (and she supposes himself) to notice her struggle and she’s never been one to ask for help. So instead tries her best to avoid the ankles of other shoppers and attempts to keep up with the cracking pace Harry had set. 

It’s only when he turns around to find her ten feet behind him, does Harry acknowledge her, his eyebrows pinched in annoyance, “what’s taking you so bloody long?” To say Y/N was taken aback would be an understatement. After everything, he’d manage to stay friendly for what, half a day?

“Excuse me? Doing so well at being friendly Harry, might want to pull it back, before I get the wrong impression.” 

Maybe it was Y/N’s sarcastic words that pulled Harry back, or perhaps he realised himself, but he really hadn't meant to be rude. At first, it was more of a joke, but he guessed that he’d become so accustomed to being snarky with Y/N, it’d come out a lot more maliciously than he’d intended.

“Fuck, what? No- I didn’t mean it like that. I was tryin’ to joke, but it came out wron- Fuck! I’m sorry, okay?” Somewhere in the middle of Harry’s rambling, Y/N starts to giggle. While she had taken it the wrong way, she was mature enough to understand she’d simply interpreted it wrong. 

“Harry relax, look like you're about to pass out. Sorry I took it the wrong way,” she shrugs, “now, where are the pickles? I’ve been craving them for weeks.” Harry’s slightly taken aback, he’d never met someone who could put an extremely valid argument behind them with such ease. 

Harry wouldn’t have blamed Y/N if she’d gotten angry with him, stomped her feet, made a fuss and yelled in his face, after all, he had spoken to her like a prick. But just like that, she had defused the argument and made Harry feel better instantly, even though he was in the wrong. Nonetheless, he follows her through the isles, making sure to help her steer the trolley when the crowd was busiest. 

Harry had actually started to enjoy himself on this trip, he wasn’t going to lie. Y/N had an easy going way about her that he hadn’t really bothered to notice before. It made it easy to chat about nonsensical things, including Harry’s first dog and his preferred brand of nail polish while they peruse the aisles. He was doing all he could to make sure the rest of the trip didn’t contain any silly arguments like the one that had almost sparked just ten minutes before, and he believes he was doing a good job. 

After stopping by the fruit aisle for some cherries (they were in season, and there was no way Y/N was missing out on the tiny period they were in season for, even if they were ridiculously overpriced,) they reach the aisle that contains pickles. Finally, Y/N had been craving them for weeks, and nothing could stop her now, not even the fact that they were on the top shelf. Y/N’s brows pinch in annoyance, who put pickles that high up anyway? 

She halfheartedly sticks her hand in the air, her fingers barely brushing against the bottom of the jar before looking behind her, watching Harry laughing at her struggle. “Are you going to help me or just keep that smug smile on your face?” 

This makes Harry’s smirk upturn even more, turning into a full boyish grin, dimples and all. “Say please sweetheart, and I might just consider it.” 

Y/N rolls her eyes, “please,” and although it is sarcastic and hardly genuine Harry takes it, walking over and reaching for the last jar of pickles. 

What happens next could be blamed on many different factors; the humidity in the supermarket being higher than the average store, it could be blamed on Harry’s sweaty fingers or maybe even the worker who decided to put them on the top shelf in the first place. 

Whatever the fault, Harry grabs the container and almost delivers it safely to the cart, until it slips from his grip and instead ends in a puddle of shattered glass, stray pickles and dripping juice. And of fucking course it’s the last jar, and of fucking course it’s Harry who drops it, right in front of the girl who’s been craving them for so long. 

Harry is almost scared to look up at Y/N’s face, knowing he was more than likely going to be met with a pouting, red, furious mix. She really had been talking about the fucking pickles for weeks, and after both Jeff and Sarah had forgotten to get them in the last two shopping trips, he can imagine her desperation.

It’s as if time was working in slow motion, Harry sees the residue pickle juice dripping from the handle of the shopping trolley, can feel his sock getting progressively wetter as the liquid seeps into his canvas sneaker. And Harry immediately starts to apologise, “fuck I’m so sorr-“ but is interrupted by Y/N manically laughing. Well, he had expected a lot of different reactions, but he hadn’t expected… laughter?

“How did that even happen,” she gets out through her laughter, “you’re an idiot!” Harry can’t help but join in. He was covered in pickle juice, and in hindsight, the situation was pretty funny. “Oi, ‘s not my fault the jar was more slippery than the average.” This only makes Y/N cackle harder, holding her stomach as though it was hurting. 

“Hold on, I’ll get something to clean it up.” As Harry watches Y/N walk away, probably to find a worker, he can’t help but think again how different Y/N was from Elle. Harry distinctly remembers shopping with her one Christmas and accidentally dropping the last box of red and white candy canes (what can he say, he can be a right clutz.) She had been shaking with fury, voice dripping with poison as she asked Harry why he was “such a fucking idiot?” He guesses she was stressed because of the time of the year, but Harry had always hated her vicious temper, which Y/N apparently lacked. 

Harry had only really seen Y/N angry or upset until now, but he could safely assume that was of his own doing. When they were getting along, she seemed to make him feel better without even trying. She could laugh despite herself, and poke fun at Harry without feeling like she was actually reprimanding him for something, and Harry, well he hadn’t really experienced that before.

Harry sees Y/N returning, with what looks to be a less than impressed worker following behind her. That is until she sees Harry standing there in all his six-foot glory, covered in pickle juice. 

She seemed to be around 20, with blonde hair braided into two plaits that sat around her neck. She had bright green eyes, and if she was a little older, Harry probably would have said she was cute. And by the looks of it, she would’ve revelled in such treatment, when she approaches Harry with a, “I’m so sorry, Mr Styles!” Harry waves off the apology, he had been the one to drop the pickles anyway. “No worries love, ‘m sorry bout’ the mess.” 

It’s like her eyes brighten two shades at the pet name as she begins to sweep up the broken glass, blushing as she does, “oh don’t even worry! Can see you made a mess of yourself as well.” Y/N can’t help but laugh, was she actually trying to flirt with a pickle stained Harry? He catches Y/N laughing behind the worker and grins, “sure did. I’m a bit of a clutz sometimes.” 

Now, Harry knew that his personality was very likeable, he was easy to talk to, and he wasn’t exactly bad to look at, so he was somewhat used to casual flirting. Who was he to pull up someone trying to shoot their shot? Usually, he preferred to go along with it, stay polite and at the end of the interaction, cut the conversation before anything serious came of it. And the girl (Hannah, according to her name tag) standing in front of him, cleaning his mess, was no exception. 

“Can see that,” she winks. Actually, fucking winks and Harry can’t help but feel slightly smug, his presumption had clearly been correct. He doesn’t see the harm in playing along, “oh can you? Thought customer service was all about being nice to the customer,” he teases lightly. Hannah giggles flirtatiously and if Harry thought she was blushing before, his effect on her is multiplied. “I’m nice, I promise!” 

Y/N almost gags, she hated PDA at the best of times, but to see them both drooling over each other made her feel sick to her stomach. Harry’s smooth reply does nothing to quell her nausea, “mhm, I bet.” Y/N would literally rather walk home than be subjected to this torture any longer. “Okay! Thanks again for being so understanding, c’mon Harry, we better get going.” 

Harry thanks the server again, giving her a small wave and a cheeky grin as he follows Y/N to the counter to check out their items. “Really, Harry? She looked about 15 years younger than you.” Harry scoffs, “fifteen years?! You think she was twelve, do you? How old do you think I am?” 

Y/N doesn’t hesitate to respond, “old enough to know better than to flirt with someone so young.” 

He couldn’t believe she was pulling this. Harry was a flirty person naturally! He never meant anything by it, and very well knew when it was appropriate and when it definitely wasn’t. He didn’t see how a little friendly conversation could hurt in this situation. “Oh please, she was at least twenty, and I was hardly flirtin’” As the worker is scanning their items, Y/N is packing them into the reusable shopping bags. “Still gross.” 

Was Y/N jealous? For a second, Harry felt the frustration swim through his veins like poison, but the knowledge of Y/N potentially acting out of envy acts as an antidote. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous lovey.” It was Y/N’s turn to scoff. If she’s honest, she’s not sure why the sight of Harry flirting with the server annoyed her so much. She was young, but Harry was right, she was very clearly of age and also stunning. 

Maybe it was the fact she hadn’t acknowledged Y/N with more than an eye roll but readily grovelled at Harry’s feet. It could’ve been leftover frustration from the pickles she would have to hold out from for another week. Or maybe it was that she didn’t like him calling someone else ‘love.’ Perhaps she was just frustrated that it had taken her months for Harry to be civil with her, but had taken ‘Hannah’ all but five minutes. Whatever the reason, she didn’t like the pit in her stomach or the tingling in the tips of her fingers. “Not a chance, Harry.” 

Harry just smiled in response, while Y/N felt waves of negative emotions rolling through her, he felt butterflies erupting from the pit of his tummy, a small fluttering reaching all the way to his heart. Harry was ready to admit, Y/N’s jealousy made him happy. He was a narcissist; that he knew, and a pretty girl getting frustrated that his attention wasn’t purely focused on her, made his vain little heart soar. 

This little shopping expedition had given both of them huge revelations. Harry realised, the thought of Y/N being jealous over him made him extremely happy, and maybe even gave him some new spank bank material? Y/N realised that while she and Harry could be civil, it didn’t mean they didn’t know the exact places to poke and prod at each other to cause a reaction. 

——

It was Y/N's turn to pick a card, and although she'd initially been hesitant to play this game, she could admit she was having fun. When Harry had first pulled out 'Truth, Dare or Drink,' her first instinct was to ridicule him and say, "I didn't realise we were still in eighth grade," but she bit her tongue. After the supermarket, she still felt like she was continually filtering everything she said, worried a single word may be the negative turning point for their relationship. 

And well, after a few rounds, Y/N realised the game was much too risky for a bunch of eighth-graders and found some questions too intrusive even for her adult self to answer. However, with the help of at least half a bottle of chardonnay, she found herself managing just fine. Jeff had called it a night a few rounds ago, claiming he was "getting too old for this shit," but it didn't stop the rest of the group from playing.  

"Okay, ask the player to your left what their favourite sex position is. If they can't answer- both of you drink four sips." Immediately, Y/N turns to Sarah, who happens to be sitting on her left and also happens to be bright red. With a quick, "come on babe, all friends here," from Harry, Sarah buries her head in her hands before mumbling, "from behind." The answer causes an eruption of giggles and hollers from the very tipsy group and a sly smirk from Mitch, making Y/N laugh harder. 

"Alright shut up you lot," Sarah grumbles before picking up her own card. "Dare one player to share their best and worst hookup, or both of you finish your drinks. Okay, well the only one mean enough to name and shame would be Harry, so off you go H." This is met with a disgruntled, "oi" from the man in question and a casual "not wrong," from Mitch. While Harry huffs, he seems to have no issue and responds immediately, almost like he had the answer on the tip of his tongue. 

"Best was Elle, obviously. And worst, um," he deliberates for a few seconds before continuing, "was this guy I met in Brazil, he was awful! Didn't even prep my poor arse, just went straight in for the kill. Was scarred for months." He's met with roaring laughter, and at first, he tries to look pissed but ends up giggling along with them. While his poor bum really had taken a beating that night, in hindsight it was a funny sex horror story for a drunken night. "C'mon Mitchy boy, your turn." 

Mitch picks up the card and immediately scoffs, "This one's to all players, take two sips if you have ever been attracted to someone else currently playing this game." Unsurprisingly both Mitch and Sarah drink, sending cheeky winks over their cups to each other. But what shocks every player at the table is both Y/N and Harry lifting their glasses. They make eye contact with each other as they are sipping and Harry raises a questioning eyebrow towards her. 

Y/N quickly looks over to Sarah, to see her sitting with her own bewildered look, glancing between them. She had known Y/N enjoyed Harry's music, but maybe didn't know how much she also fancied him- that is until she had a conversation with him. 

"So you've either had the hots for me, my girlfriend or the chick you hate, nice H," a very inebriated Mitch says with a laugh. If Y/N hadn't already been watching him, she might have missed the flash of guilt that flickers through Harry's eyes. He looks over at her with an apologetic look, "I never said I hated-" 

"It's fine, Harry. Just pick a card, it's your turn." Y/N interrupts him, she wasn’t going to lie and say that it didn’t sting. However, while she knew they'd come to a newfound understanding, Y/N was well aware that it had initially come from Harry's resentment of her. He sighs but picks up a card anyway, pausing some, a slight blush appearing on his cheeks, before reading it aloud. "Uh... give the person to your left a hickey, or finish your drink." At first, Y/N laughs until she realises that the person sitting to his left would be her. 

In an attempt to lighten the situation, Y/N spits out, "go on, start drinking then." Mitch and Sarah start to laugh, "I could've called that one," Sarah chuckles, but Harry looks rather unimpressed. While she actually didn't care if Harry were to give her a hickey, (let's be real he was a dick, but a hot one at that!) she knew he would be thoroughly put out by it. They had become civil, not ‘drunkenly-give-one-another-a-hickey’ level friends.

"I'm not the one with the problem. I doubt he'd wanna kiss on the girl he hates." Y/N had meant it to be a joke, she really had! But the underlying biting tone would be almost impossible to miss. She was definitely playing with fire here, knowing Harry could snap at any moment. She watches as Harry's nostrils flare slightly before he bites back, "no problem here, you're just scared you'd enjoy it too much sweetheart." At that Y/N scoffs, his arrogance never ceased to amaze her, "oh please, don't give yourself so much credit, Harry."  

He laughs, "are you saying you wouldn't?"

"Almost certain of it," she quickly retaliates. Now, Harry knew he was a dick. He knew he could be impatient and rude. Was aware of his short temper and sometimes biting passive-aggressiveness. Had been well informed of his bad habit of sometimes oversharing and even bragging too much. Even knew how annoying his constant discussion of the superiority of salads to veggies could get on the nerves of those around him. 

But the one thing Harry knew for sure, was that he was good at fucking. He loved to see the person he was with, shaking with pleasure below him. Thoroughly enjoyed giving his partner everything he had, to hear them screaming his name with their eyes rolled back in pleasure. Harry liked having sex, and on account of others, Harry was fucking good at it. So Y/N sitting there, doubting he could make her feel all amazing and jittery, probably pissed him off more than it should have. 

"Fucking c' mere then." While Harry had merely said that in the heat of the moment (and possibly to get a rise out of Y/N) he was beyond shocked when she actually got up and stood before him. "I'm here. Now what smartass?" His jaw ticks and he raises an eyebrow, silently questioning Y/N's challenge. Did she really want to get involved in this? Surely she knew Harry would come out victorious. Apparently not, because she crosses her arms and scoffs, "knew you were all talk." 

Now Y/N doesn't want to admit she's intimidated because god this was Harry she was thinking about. However, when he grips her arms, flips her around and pushes her back into the chair he was just occupying, Y/N can't exactly say she's fine and dandy. 

Harry was much taller than her when they were both standing up, but with her sitting down, he towers above her, and she can't help but feel childlike and demure. His shit-eating grin only grows when he sees that, and he slowly bends down until his cologne infiltrates Y/N's nostrils and fills her head with a fog she can't quite get rid of. "What was that, darling?" 

Y/N is willing herself to say anything, literally anything that wouldn't fuel his already raging ego. If she's honest the barely mumbled, "um, nothing," doesn't really cut it, but what was she to do? Before she'd met Harry, Y/N probably would've considered his looks to be something akin to her ‘dream guy.' So, when he places his hands on each armrest beside her, essentially trapping her, it doesn't exactly help to calm her nerves. Harry oozed sex, and if the look in his eye was anything to go off, he knew it. 

As his face becomes level with hers, Y/N can smell the sweet apple cider he had been drinking and can feel the bottom of his unbuttoned shirt brushing against the tops of her thighs. And for the second time that month, Y/N wonders if she should move away from the compromising position she and Harry had found themselves in, but she once again decides against it. Harry places his hand against the side of her neck, hooking his thumb under her jaw. He encourages her to move her head further to the side with some gentle pressure, which she happily obliges to. 

Y/N can't help but inhale sharply when she feels his slightly chilled lips gently brush against her earlobe, before placing a tender kiss behind her ear. "Is this okay?" If Y/N were in a better headspace, she might have tried to play this whole thing off with an indifferent nod. Instead, she feels herself nodding rapidly, and takes a moment to curse herself as she feels Harry's lips curl into a grin at her eagerness. 

Harry allows his lips to run down the side of Y/N's neck so lightly he knew it must be tickling her. Once he reaches her collarbone, he places a quick peck against it before once again trailing his lips up her soft skin, leaving light kisses in his wake. Y/N's breathing stops as she feels Harry's tongue touching her skin as he begins his ascent, leaving a chilling trail that sends shivers through her whole body. 

She feels herself slipping into a hazy state, in which all control was given to Harry, and while her first instinct is to break it, her second is to bask in it. Her decision is hastily rewarded when Harry starts to suction his lips against her. 

Y/N actively silences the whimper that arises from her throat as Harry continues to bruise the skin he kisses, and she briefly wonders if he had heard the beginnings of her mewl as he chuckles, sending a gust of cold hair down her neck. Harry gently bites down on Y/N's throat, which causes a small sting, the aftershocks travelling all the way down to her toes. But his tongue laving over the mark works to quickly soothe the ache. 

While she felt as if she had sat feeling the effect of Harry's mouth for hours, it had only been about ten seconds in reality. But the familiar pull in Y/N's lower stomach screams at her to ignore time, grab his shirt and push her mouth against his. However, the cough heard from behind her, quells these dirtier thoughts almost immediately. And just like that, as quickly as it had come, the pleasuring warmth Harry provided was gone. 

Y/N struggles to flutter her eyes back open, that she hadn't realised had even closed in the first place. 

Well, she wasn't expecting that, and while she assumed Harry would feel the same, his deep smirk tells her something different. He looks at her with a hunger in his eyes, and she briefly wonders if he felt the same pull towards her. Y/N was fighting the urge to drag him to the nearest bedroom and instead clears her throat and looks behind her to assess Mitch and Sarah's reactions. 

Safe to say, they were as shocked as she was, with gaping mouths and wide eyes, everyone sits in silence for what feels like far too long. Y/N was embarrassed. Usually, she hated PDA, yet she'd just let Harry suck on her neck like some kind of B-grade vampire in front of her cousin and her boyfriend. 

Y/N stands back up to move around to her own chair, but with her head down, she misses Harry reaching to brush his knuckles against her own, but only feels the comforting touch. Harry watches as she refuses to meet his eye, and while he enjoyed himself, he hoped he hadn't gone too far with her. But when Sarah grabs her head and pulls it to the side to see the blooming mark on Y/N's skin, Harry can't help but smirk and feel slightly proud. Y/N had said she was okay with him touching her, maybe she was just flustered, and if her bright red cheeks were anything to go by, that's Harry's safest guess. "Jesus H, you really did a number on her." 

Y/N refused to acknowledge the effect Harry had instilled upon her, but she can feel her cheeks radiating a cherry-red heat, and she can only pray no one else notices. "Uh, it's my turn," she manages to choke out, and a quick glance at Harry shows she's not hiding her flustered state as well as she'd hoped. His dimples are on full display, decorated with his complacent grin, and he's sitting back in his chair, arms crossed over one another. 

"Pick the most attractive player, both of you take three sips," you've got to be fucking joking, she was pretty sure everyone knew her answer to that, but she refused to give him the satisfaction. "It's Sarah. Who's next?" Sarah cheers' Y/N's glass and takes her sips as she grabs the next card. 

Y/N can see Harry's disgruntled look and can vaguely hear his murmured, "bullshit," but she only sends him a glare as she takes her three sips. 

——

Harry was drunk. No cut that, he was fucked. It was approximately six ciders ago that he began to feel light and giggly. And then maybe two or so ciders ago he began to have trouble walking in a straight line and was genuinely considering shaving his head. And now, he was here. Planted on the couch watching Y/N and Sarah sing some song he definitely knew but couldn't name, Taylor Swift maybe? 

His head felt heavy, and if he was honest, thoughts were entering his head and then leaving it before he could even acknowledge what they were. He can vaguely recognise Mitch's voice, talking about something that Harry, no matter how hard he tried, could actually listen to. So he sits on the couch and watches Y/N. She looked pretty with her hair down and messy, and Harry wishes he could stop her from dancing and ask if she could just sit next to him instead. But he thinks he's probably just drunk and maybe a bit lonely, so he doesn't. 

He's not sure if he was calling Y/N's name and hadn't realised or if she had noticed how not okay he seemed, but she approaches him anyway. "Harry, are you alright?" She looks worried, and Harry hates that he's made her feel that. He's tempted to use his thumb to mould the lines in her forehead back out like cheap clay, but he's not sure she'd want him to touch her. So he nods lightly, attempting a smile, but she doesn't return it. 

"Sarah, I'm gonna take Harry up to bed, he seems pretty gone." Harry doesn't hear Sarah's response because he's too busy focusing on Y/N's lips and how pretty and puffy they are. He briefly wonders what they'd feel like around the head of his cock, but he's drawn out of those thoughts when he realises she's calling his name. 

"Harry, c'mon, come upstairs to bed with me." Um, had Harry missed something? He doesn't really mind, truthfully he'd quite like to take Y/N upstairs and have his way with her, but, Y/N must see the look on his face because she laughs, "not like that you lecher! God, you really are pissed." 

Harry smiles and takes the hand she's giving him, wrapping his arm around her shoulders for stability. The group had experienced quite a few drunken nights during isolation, but Y/N had never seen Harry this intoxicated before and while she's quite enjoying him acting kind of goofy, she's just praying he doesn't vomit on her during their climb upstairs. 

Y/N does her best to guide Harry to his room, who provides absolutely no help, only giggling to himself as she struggles to hold him up. Finally, she makes it, only realising once she had stepped inside, that she had never actually seen Harry's room before. 

Similarly to Y/N’s, his room has the shell of a guest bedroom, the art on the walls a little too unpersonalised and the furniture stark and white. The bones of the room are fleshed out with Harry’s belongings, clearly in random places that were not permanent, as if he’d placed his records and guitar down the first day he got there, and left them in those exact same places. There are dirty clothes strewn upon the floor, and books sitting next to glasses stacked neatly on the bedside table. Next to them, is a candle that Y/N can’t read the scent of from her position in the doorway, something sweet from the smell permeating through the room, mixing intoxicatingly with Harry’s telltale sandalwood like cologne. 

Harry stands in the middle of the room, clearly having forgotten his purpose as he turns to look back at Y/N with a slightly lost expression. "Want to get into bed Harry?" He nods and stumbles over to his mattress, falling rather than laying in it. As Y/N's about to turn around to go back downstairs, she hears Harry's voice, much quieter than it usually is, "I'm sorry." She's not sure if she heard him correctly. 

"What did you say, Harry?"

"I'm sorry." He whispers. 

"For what?" Y/N knows what he could be sorry for, he did treat her like shit for weeks, but they’d already apologised and somewhat buried the hatchet. "For bein' a dick. You don't deserve it, never did." She walks closer to him, until she stands about a foot from the bed, and can see Harry's eyes full of sorrow and close to tears in the dark. 

"Come on, you're just drunk. If you want to talk about it more in the morning, we can." Y/N knows he'll forget by then, she's not sure he even remembers what he just said. He holds his hand out to her, and she hesitantly takes it, "ya just look so much like her, you know? Act like her too." Harry repeats the same words he’d told you yesterday. 

"Who, Harry?" 

He looks at her with his big green eyes, and she knows he's drunk, and she knows he'll forget this all in the morning, but she can't help but sit down beside him on the bed. 

"Elle." 

Y/N didn’t know what to say to that. She didn’t want Harry to burst into tears again, the topic clearly sensitive, let alone in his intoxicated state. So she stays silent, watches as Harry shuts his eyes, and Y/N nearly thinks he’s fallen asleep, until he reopens them again, "nicer than her though. Prettier too." 

Y/N's not going to lie, hearing Harry talk about her in a way that wasn't entirely negative for once was flattering, but she couldn't help but feel it was more the cider talking. She knew how much he missed Elle, that much was obvious, and she had thought that was what had made him hate her so much. She was worried he would wake up angry that he had told her things he hadn't intended to, or even worse, something he hadn't meant. 

So she leans over him to grab the side of the bedsheet he had torn away, but his freezing hand on her neck causes her to pause. His thumb is lightly brushing over the mark he left on her earlier, and Y/N audibly swallows. He was close enough that he could lean in slightly and press his lips against the same spot once more, but he doesn't, only whispers, "looks so good on you." Y/N feels his warm breath against her bare neck as he speaks, causing that pull to return to her lower stomach once more, "H, I don't think we should do this right now." 

Y/N didn’t know what exactly ‘this’ was, she just knew she didn’t want either of them to be intoxicated when it happened. The Harry Y/N knew, would pull back, laugh and ask if she really thought he'd ever want to do 'this' with her, but this intoxicated and unpredictable Harry presses his lips softly to her neck once, before pulling back and sighing. "I know." 

He studies her face carefully before speaking again. "You've never called me H before, I like it." Y/N sighs, "honestly I didn't think we were on that level. Thought you'd get mad at me," she laughs lightly although what she said was true. 

She had thought about adopting the same nickname everyone else in the house used but was too scared he would make fun of her or ask her why she felt she had the right to call him that. So she played it safe, only calling him Harry, but she guessed the nickname slipped out while he was very much inebriated and very much unlikely to say any word of opposition. 

If Y/N didn't know any better, she'd think Harry looked almost hopeful as he whispered, "so we are now?" but the expression is fleeting. She wants to feed into it but isn't sure if it's more her mind playing tricks on her. Showing her things she desperately wants to be true, only to turn around a reveal it was fake the whole time. So she shrugs, "I don't know Harry." 

He nods slowly but doesn't say anything else. "Try to get some sleep." He nods again, "night." 

"Night H." 

——

Harry doesn't know what happened. Had he been drugged? Used as a voodoo doll? Abducted by aliens? Something had happened, because when he woke up with a pounding head, his first feeling was disappointment. But not disappointment about having to nurse a shocking hangover, no, it was disappointing that Y/N wasn't in bed with him. He could’ve sworn she had come upstairs with him. 

Harry was slowly coming to terms with the fact that he didn't hate her and perhaps, just maybe had developed a small crush towards her. But wishing she was cuddling him after a drunken night? That was too close to something serious, something that Harry was definitely not ready for. Not after Elle. 

Walking down the stairs, he wonders if there's a reason for his sudden desperation? He vaguely remembers giving her a hickey, but that was a part of the game. He remembers Y/N walking into his room and sitting on his bed, but can’t recall what was actually said. 

Stepping into the kitchen, feels the same as usual, maybe with added head pain. Mitch is doing the dishes from the breakfast sitting on the table in front of Y/N and Sarah. Everything seems painfully familiar. Except, looking at Y/N now, with sober goggles and daylight, Harry completely understands why drunk him was so enamoured. She looks beautiful, with an oversized tee-shirt barely covering her smooth legs, her hair in a messy bun atop her head, and the striking hickey against her neck painfully obvious. Seeing Y/N with his mark against her neck makes Harry have to will his stiffy away. She hadn't even tried to hide it.

Harry doesn't know how long he'd been standing in the entrance of the kitchen, staring at Y/N like a creep, but she catches his eye and sends him a shy smile. "Mornin' H, brekkies on the table," Mitch states, as Harry quickly returns the smile Y/N gave him and sits across from her, "looks good, man. Thanks for cooking." 

Harry is slightly shocked when Y/N speaks up from the other side of the table, he had been expecting her to ignore him like she had after he’d given her the mark that was causing a tingle in his lower tummy. "How's your head?" She says softly. 

He gives her a small grin, "it's been better if'm honest." She laughs, "yeh, you were pretty fucked last night." Harry can't tell if she's genuinely just making conversation or if she's trying to figure out if he remembered the events that occurred. "Was I? Not too drunk to remember giving you that," he points at her neck with his syrup covered fork. His words have their desired effect as Y/N turns bright red, "really does look good on you love." 

Harry's not sure what he's doing, he's aware of how flirty he is being. While they were now able to be around each other and have a conversation without biting each other’s heads off, hitting on each other was a whole different ball game. All he knows is that the more he looks at Y/N, the more he wants to get on his knees before her. 

Harry had never flirted so openly with Y/N before. What the fuck was he playing at? Y/N had assumed that Harry became a tad clingy and loving with a few drinks in his system. So as he sits across from her, dead sober, and continues to flirt with her, Y/N is confused. Maybe he was still drunk? Had he taken something she wasn't aware of? Been probed in the middle of the night? She wasn't sure, but she couldn't say she didn't like it. 

She also didn't want to get too comfortable, only for him to turn around and treat her as horribly as he had when she first got here. So she gives him a small smile and continues to eat her breakfast, merely listening to the conversations happening around her. 

——

No matter how hard she tried, Y/N could not get the thought of Harry off her mind. Could still feel the ghost of his lips trailing along her neck, and the way his hand brushed along hers. She couldn’t help but imagine the way his lips would feel pressing softly against her own, his tongue licking into her mouth. She imagines his hands to be soft but still firm as they held her hips, her neck, her own fingers laced in his. His voice replays in her head, and she wonders how his accent would twirl and twist around filthy words, whispered into the shell or her ear. 

 She can't forget how she felt hearing the lilt of his voice when it was flirting with someone else. Can’t get away from the pit in her stomach, the aching head and chest. She had laid awake for so many nights trying to figure out why exactly it had bothered her so much. 

She could only amount it all to a certain type of jealousy, but what was she jealous of? Harry had never shown her any sort of romantic attention before, that is until he was suckling at her neck and calling her sweetheart. But what did it all mean? Did he feel the same pull towards her, or was she just imagining his sudden fondness of her? Did she actually like him, or just the idea of his lips pressed against hers rather than her neck. She needed to talk to someone, and thank goodness for her, Sarah was home. 

Ever since they were little Sarah and Y/N had been ridiculously close. They had experienced each stage of their lives together, from playing at the local playground to trying their first cigarette in the bathroom of Sarah’s family home. Sarah was the big sister that Y/N had never had, always there for advice or a bit of fun. Teaching her about sex and drinking, what it was like to kiss another person or drive a car for the first time. Sarah explained everything with practiced expertise that looking back on, Y/N could see she definitely didn’t have at the time.  

Their family homes were only a road apart, and every day either Y/N or Sarah would make the small trek to each other’s house and spend hours discussing nothing and everything. Sarah was the closest thing Y/N had ever had to a sibling, and after Sarah had left for tour with Harry and the band, Y/N had felt a Sarah sized hole in her heart. Honestly, for Y/N, quarantine felt like a blessing in disguise, she felt like they could make up for the months of lost time and distance between them. 

In search of her cousin, Y/N only comes across Mitch reading in the living room, “hey, do you know where Sarah is?” He glances at Y/N from above his book, owlishly blinking as if he was confused, and maybe he was. Mitch is well known for getting lost in anything he loves, from books and movies and especially in his music. “Um, the shower… I think?” 

Bidding him thanks, Y/N heads towards the downstairs toilet where she could hear the water running. While they all had bathrooms in their rooms, they’d found the downstairs communal shower particularly helpful. It was easy to slip into after they’d just come back from swimming at the beach or a run, without mucking salt water or sweat through the whole house. Y/N knew Sarah had gone out for a jog about an hour ago, so had no doubt she was having a quick wash before dinner. 

If it were anybody else, Y/N would’ve waited until they had finished, but ever since they were thirteen or so, Y/N and Sarah had an odd tradition of having intense conversations while one of them was showering. Y/N still remembers the week Sarah’s parents had decided to split up, she had spent every night sitting on the closed toilet seat crying and ranting while Y/N stood under the hot water, listening and trying her best to comfort her. It was a weird habit of theirs, but for them, the chance to chat with someone without having to look them in the eye was therapeutic, almost like a church confessional. 

Although Y/N was relatively happy, she wasn’t about to enter a religious confessional. When it came to Harry, she had definitely committed at least four of the seven mortal sins. No, it was just Sarah, and Y/N knew that no matter what she admitted, it would be received with love and unconditional support. So she charges through the bathroom door, eager to spill all that was muddling up her mind, “Sarah! We need to talk about Harry, I need your help.” 

Y/N expects Sarah’s tinkling laugh, soothing cooing, maybe even a big sigh and her calming voice asking her what was wrong. Instead, she is met with the deep and drawling laugh of Harry himself. 

Looking back now, Y/N wishes she could say she dealt with her mistake with careful grace and poise, but instead she lets out a bloodcurdling scream, and as she sees the shower curtain drawn to the left she slaps her hands over her eyes. The melodic laugh of Harry’s continues as he clearly notices her current predicament, “can look if you want babe.” 

Y/N whines, “I- um, no. I don’t- I thought you were Sarah. What the fuck is happening.” Y/N can hear the smirk in Harry’s voice as he answers, “yeh Y/N, I got that. Seriously, I’m covered up.” 

And maybe, it would’ve been better for Y/N to stay standing with her hands over her eyes like a petulant child because as she drops them, the sight she’s met with is one to behold and one Y/N’s not sure she can handle. Harry is covered with the shower curtain pulled across his bottom half, but Y/N trails her eyes upwards, sees the small trail of slightly damp hair leading down to the white curtain, and her eyes widen comically, he looks like a wet dream and Y/N’s not sure how to react. 

His curls are stuck to his neck and forehead, matted against the soft wet skin. His naturally tanned chest is on display, dripping with water, and covered in his tattoos. Y/N can’t help but notice the inked swallows along his chest, drawing attention to his collarbones, the skin taught against the bone, and Y/N wants to kiss along it and taste the mix of salt and sweetness of his neck. The butterfly covering his abs ripples as he clears his throat, drawing Y/N’s attention away from his body. 

“So what did you need to talk to Sarah about, hm?” Anything I can help you with?” Y/N can feel the blood rush to her cheeks, fully aware that Harry had caught her ogling at his partially naked body. Her tongue feels heavy in her mouth, and she’s not sure whether it’s from the sight in front of her or the embarrassment of being caught staring at it. 

Y/N stutters, trying to force herself to say something, anything at all that would make this situation less unnerving “um, I-no?” Which comes out more like a question than anything, and Y/N curses herself for her weak resolve. Harry smirks, “Cat got your tongue pet?” Y/N hates how easily he can get her worked up, and hates it even more how obvious it is to him. “Stop teasing me! I can’t, you know, I don’t-... you’re naked okay!” 

Harry’s dimples deepen, and a smirk takes over a little less than half of his face, “don’t pretend you don’t love my teasing, darlin’.” It’s at this point that Y/N realises that she had been in this situation much longer than appropriate, standing flustered and hot from Harry being so close to her while nude. 

“I need to go,” it comes out as more of a whisper, her voice rough with lust. She coughs as if to clear her throat, but from what she’s unsure. The intense desire she feels for a man she despised a month ago, perhaps? “Relax Y/N, no big deal. I think Sarah’s in the shower upstairs though if you’re still looking.”

She nods in response, slowly backing out of the room before turning around and quickly shutting the door behind her. She feels her breath heaving in and out of her lungs. Feels her throat tighten and her head dizzy, and an intense tingling feeling starts at her toes and spreads all the way to her lower tummy. The familiar pull of lust and need brings an ache to her core, and she feels the sticky heat between her legs. 

While Y/N may not know it, Harry is affected by her as much as she is by him. He stands in the shower, a stupid grin across his face, dimples indenting his cheek. Harry could pretend he didn’t see Y/N blatantly ogling him, or her cheeks burn a delicious crimson when she had gotten caught. Could even pretend he didn’t see her subconsciously squeezing her thighs together while she stood in front of him, like she was so desperate for Harry she couldn’t even wait to relieve the tension building inside of her. 

Harry could pretend not to notice, but as he felt a tingle zap down his spine, and the accustomed rush of blood to his lower half, Harry realised he didn't want to. Would rather explore this unnerving territory, and see what it had in store for him. 

——

Harry had reached a new level of boredom. So much so, he had resorted to doing a puzzle.

Harry was notorious for always being busy, was constantly on tour, playing shows and promoting his music. The quietest periods in Harry’s life were the months of writing he’d participate in, where his mind was anything but still. He wasn’t used to doing nothing all day, and while he had tried to write during isolation, the months of doing fuck all made inspiration hard to come by. 

So it led Harry to his current situation, trying to complete a challenging puzzle at the dining table. Sarah and Mitch were napping the late afternoon away, Jeff was playing Xbox games in the living room, and Y/N had gone for a walk, right after she had brought the puzzle out from her room after Harry had asked her to. He had heard her talking to Sarah about how much she loved puzzles a few months ago and had even shown her the one she had brought to quarantine; however, she hadn’t gotten the chance to start it yet. 

Harry had been doing nothing all day, and he was sick of sitting in bed, refreshing his Instagram feed every ten minutes. To be honest, a puzzle wouldn’t have been Harry’s first choice of a relaxing pastime activity, but there was only so much social media and movie marathons Harry could take. 

He was nervous at first to ask Y/N. Over the last few days, it seemed like there was a certain tension between them, as if they were both aware of the lust that had been swirling throughout the bathroom as thick as the steam from Harry’s shower, but didn’t want to admit it. They were testing the waters, sometimes stumbling through amorous conversations, while still attempting to maintain their indifference. 

However, he was slightly remorseful of his decision for a different reason, when he asked Y/N if he could borrow it from her, she had squealed in excitement, telling him her ‘top tips’ for completing a jigsaw for at least ten minutes. He guesses her passion and love for the shitty quarantine past time, overrode her awkward feelings towards their situation. If he was honest, Harry didn’t give a fuck about “making sure to find the corners first!” but he didn’t want to hurt her feelings, so he nodded along and pretended to listen. 

But Harry had really come to regret his decision when he hadn’t found a piece in over an hour. He was frustrated and the stifling temperature Sarah insisted on keeping the house at, wasn’t helping. He had completed a small section at the top right corner, five or six pieces on the left, and a few random bits he had stuck together and somehow happened to get correct. He was slightly embarrassed when Y/N returned from her walk, to find him with his head in his hands, looking more than sorry for himself. Her tinkling laughter doesn’t make him feel any better, either. 

“Having trouble H?” 

He looks up to her standing in the doorway, attempting to plaster his award-winning grin upon his face, “if I’d known it was this hard I never would have asked if I could do it.” She grins back, and walks over to the table, looking down at the pieces with a concentrated focus. “Hm I never said it was going to be easy, thought my tips would help, but I guess not.” 

Harry tries yet another piece that doesn’t fit with the ones surrounding it, and sighs, “if the puzzle master wants to help, that would be lovely,” he lilts. She picks up the segment Harry had just dropped and places into the correct position on the opposite side of the puzzle that Harry had placed it in. “You’re flattering me now.” She hesitates for a tick, “lucky for you, I like it.” 

Harry loved this new dynamic between them, it was light and teasing, something he hadn’t had with her before. He’s not going to lie and say that he didn’t slightly enjoy the biting exchanges they had previously shared, but this flirty air between them was exciting.  

“I’ll keep that in mind pet. Now, what were those tips again?” 

It’s safe to say Harry was impressed with Y/N’s skill, he had never thought puzzles were that difficult until he actually tried to complete one. Y/N however, was fast, seemed to pick up pieces and instantly be able to connect to where they should go, and quickly finished at least ninety percent of the puzzle. Harry fit the odd part in place, which Y/N praised each time, with a small cheer and a “well done!” each time. Finally, the puzzle was almost complete with only one gap in the picture of golden retriever puppies climbing on one another. 

Y/N looks at Harry and hands him the last puzzle piece, “you should put the last bit in.” Harry can’t explain the warm glow that emits from his heart, he doesn’t know why it makes him so happy. She was kind and considerate, and Harry wasn’t used to people always putting him first, usually being doubtful of anyone he hadn’t known for a while, worried about what their true intentions were. “You sure? You did most of it.” She giggles, “nah, we did it together!” Harry takes the bit of cardboard from her and places it in the last empty spot. 

He looks up at Y/N who’s grinning at him stupidly, and he can’t help but smile back. It’s then that Harry starts to really look at Y/N. He notices the dusting of freckles on the top of her nose, her eyes laced with pride and happiness and her lips, the bottom one stuck between her two front teeth, but both looking so soft and sweet. Y/N must catch Harry staring at her lips because she releases the supple flesh from between her bite. 

“Did you have fun?” She whispers. 

Harry tries to reply, but his voice dies in his throat. All he can manage is a small nod, his gaze dropping back to Y/N’s mouth. He lifts his hand to her face, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear, and she leans into the touch slightly. Unknowingly, they had gotten even closer, and Harry can feel her small puffs of air against his lips, could brush them against hers if he leaned an inch forward. 

“Harry, what do you want to do for dinner?” Mitch yells from the room one over, scaring both Y/N and Harry, who instantly pull away from each other. Harry coughs, “um, I don’t know man.” 

Mitch walks into the room, Sarah in tow, who sees the completed puzzle on the table and runs over, “you finally did it Y/N!” Harry looks over to the girl in question. Her cheeks a cherry red as she looks over to Harry, “uh yeah, Harry and I did it together.” Sarah looks between them, with an impish look on her face mixed with slight disbelief, “oh, that’s… nice.” 

Harry’s attention is drawn away from Y/N when Mitch pipes up again, “I was thinking tacos, so we could make frozen margaritas for game night.” Harry is grateful for the change in topic, knowing Sarah was more than likely to make a comment that Harry was not ready to address. Particularly if Y/N had indeed continued the conversation she had planned to have with Sarah a few days ago when she’d walked in on Harry in the shower. 

“You know I’m always down for a margarita.” 

—— 

Y/N was slightly buzzed. She hated feeling entirely out of control when she drank, and she’d found the perfect point between dead sober and sloppy. She felt a warm feeling in her fingertips and toes, felt slightly light-headed and was just a tad obnoxiously giggly. The group had been playing monopoly, and while Y/N usually hated the game, she was thoroughly enjoying it tonight. 

Sarah had been helping Y/N, so she wasn’t so lost in terms of properties and the differences between houses and hotels. Jeff was as quiet as usual, but somehow had a secret talent for swindling properties and hoard money. Mitch had prioritised his margarita over the game, buying random properties when he felt like it, and fucking up everyone else’s plans of winning. And Harry had made it his mission to beat Y/N. If he was honest, he just loved seeing her pout every time he would buy whatever spaces were left of the colours she was aiming for, or teasing her every time she got a smaller roll than him. 

As Harry bought another green property that Y/N was gunning for, she realised she was nursing an empty glass. “Does anyone want another margarita?” Agreements come from all around the table, so Y/N gets up, grabbing a few empty glasses. As she stands, she feels the blood rush to her head, a slight dizziness tingling through her body, and she giggles as she stumbles towards the kitchen. 

Harry and Mitch had made the previous rounds, Y/N watching the first couple be made. Which meant she probably should remember the ingredients, but if she’s honest, the copious amount of alcohol running through her bloodstream has caused a lapse in her memory. Was she supposed to put one or two cups of ice in? Y/N curses herself and her shitty memory under her breath, realising she will definitely need help. She was clearly too tipsy to think coherently. 

“Oi, how much tequila do I put in? And is it Cointreau or triple sec? And how much ice do I use” She yells into the adjacent room, sighing slightly, hoping someone would come and help her. And she can’t explain her excitement when Harry rounds the corner, maybe because the pressure of making the drinks had been lifted, but more likely because it was simply him. He comes in with a smiling face, his hair slightly messed and his eyes filled with the misty happiness of someone who is perfectly buzzed. 

Y/N couldn’t quite describe the shiver that travels down her spine or the tension she feels in her stomach, all she knows is in the last few days, the intense feeling had begun to grow stronger whenever Harry was around. There was something about him, the way he carried himself, the shy smirks he’d give her, or the gentle touches he’d provide as he walked passed her. 

In every touch, every look and every feeling she got from Harry, Y/N could sense the tension growing stronger. She was amazed the rest of the group hadn’t picked up on it, other than Sarah of course, who was watching from the sidelines, waiting for one of them to crack. 

“What’s the problem bunny?” His eyes soft as he walks over to a defeated Y/N. He watches as her eyes crinkled slightly as she giggles despite herself, “I wanted to make everyone drinks, but I realised I don’t actually know how to.” She sheepishly watches Harry’s face mirror her own with a small grin, “well that just won’t do, will it? Sit on the counter n’ I’ll show you again.” 

She jumps on the kitchen bench, the surface cold against her otherwise alcohol flushed skin. She watches Harry gather the ingredients from around the kitchen, noticing the way his back strains against the white and yellow t-shirt he was wearing, the arch of his back clear and his shoulders strong and broad.

Over the past week or so, Y/N had started to see the funny and charming personality that the rest of the household had previously been privy to. His witty and sweet persona had shone through, and it had done nothing to curb the intense sexual feelings she felt towards him, instead they were only growing, especially with each pet name that his puffy pink lips shaped around. 

Harry begins to place the ingredients in the blender, and Y/N is confident he’s giving her instructions as he does so, but she is just so distracted by his strong fingers adorned by his shiny rings, each one a different shape and size. “Are y’listening?” 

She snaps her eyes back to his face, to see one side of his pretty mouth tugging upwards, suggesting he already knew the answer to his own question. “What are you lookin’ at my hands for?” She feels the warmth rush to the apples of her cheeks, sheepishly replying, “I was just looking at your rings, they’re very pretty.” 

He smiles and jokingly holds his hand up to her face, wiggling his fingers. Y/N chuckles and grabs his pointer finger, pulling it towards her to get a better look. She holds his hand while looking at the silver band wrapped around his digit, eyeing the small red ruby shining brightly in the centre of it, “like this one,” she whispers. He matches her volume, stepping closer in order to hear her, “it was my mums, she gave it to me after my first concert sold out. Her mum gave it to her after she got married.” She runs her finger over it gently, noticing the worn edges, and tries to imagine the many stories it had experienced in the hands of three generations. “It’s beautiful.” 

This felt like a moment for both of them. Obviously, Harry and Y/N had experienced many conversations and experiences before, but none quite like this. Harry feels the warmth from her body radiating into his, can feel the sweat from her hands as she holds his own. He can hear her calm breathing, the slow rise and fall of her chest. Of course, Harry had felt lust before, but he doesn’t think he’s ever wanted to kiss someone as badly as he does right now.

He can’t explain how desperately he wants to inch forward, hold her pretty face in his hands and press his lips against hers. Instead, he makes do, moving closer to her and feeling a bloom of happiness in his chest when she opens her legs for him to stand between with no hesitation. 

She smiles, his hand still nestled into hers, although her focus had moved far beyond his rings. It now laid solely on his face and the way he was looking at her. He rests his free hand on the counter beside her, close enough that she could feel the outside of his thumb brushing against her upper leg. 

Harry bites his tongue, he wants to say ‘so are you,’ but even he knows that’s cheesy. Plus he doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries, he knows Y/N is attracted to him but is also fully aware that doesn’t equal consent. He settles for lightly brushing his thumb against her leg and watches as a shiver racks through her body. With a slight giggle, she grabs his other hand, that’s causing the mildly uncomfortable sensation, with her free one, “that tickles.” 

And Harry’s not a mind reader, but now they’re just holding hands, plain and simple. He doesn’t know if she feels the same heat and tension settling between their lips, but the way she leans in slightly, tilting her head to the left gives him an indication she does. It’s subtle, and if Harry hadn’t been sitting between her legs praying she’d do exactly that, he might not have picked up on it. But he does. 

He leans in too, leaving a slight gap between them. Y/N can feel the tiny puffs of air, leaving Harry’s mouth and drawing into hers and can feel the little tufts of hair tickling her forehead. 

She brushes her lips against his gently, testing the waters. He feels as soft and warm against her as she’d imagined. Y/N retracts slightly, unsure if she had overstepped a boundary. The only reaction she could read was a sharp inhale on his part, and she was worried that it wasn’t a positive sign. 

But she couldn’t have been more wrong. 

He lifts his hand from hers and places it against her neck, his hands big enough to tuck his thumb under her jaw, while still using the rest of his fingers to gently push her back against him.

She tasted so much better than he would’ve thought, sour from the margaritas with an underlying sweetness that he couldn’t put his finger on. Harry can barely hold in his groan when her tongue slides against his lower lip, and he gladly opens up further. He feels her whimper against his thumb before he hears it, the rumbling sending vibrations up his arm, leading him to feel dizzy. 

He feels Y/N rest her hands against his shoulders, sliding them over his neck and resting her forearms behind his head. She leans further into the kiss, somehow opening her legs further, her hips slightly bucking towards his own in a silent plea for friction. Harry doesn’t hesitate to give it to her, pressing himself against her and instantly feeling the effect of his actions. She runs one hand through the curls sitting at the back of his head, tugging gently and pushing her own hips back with as much vigour as he had.

That is until the click of heeled boots is heard echoing against the kitchen tiles. 

The speed at which Harry jumps away from his position between Y/N’s legs is comical, and she almost wishes she could see it from an outsiders perspective. However, not as much as she wishes Harry’s lips were back on her own. 

Y/N looks between the boy she had been kissing with his hair messy and fluffy, and the apparent growing bulge in his pants to the shocked Mitch standing in the entrance of the kitchen. His mouth hangs open comically, and his hands hang loosely by his sides. 

The silence is too much for both Harry and Y/N to bear and looking at Y/N’s face, now bright red, and brimming with embarrassment and stress Harry feels it’s his responsibility to put her slightly at ease. “Mitch… um look-” 

“What the fuck is going on here?” Harry doesn’t even get the chance to finish his sentence before Mitch is interrupting. Harry pipes up again, “it’s nothing!” Y/N can feel her brows turning downwards and the corner of her lips curling in annoyance. She knows Harry is more than likely trying to cover their asses, but Mitch had seen them kissing, and it didn’t make Harry downplaying everything hurt any less. 

Harry sees her face and quickly tries to backtrack, “well I mean not nothing… it’s something!” 

“No shit it’s something! How long have you guys been fucking for?” This time Y/N is the first to speak up, “we are not fucking! We haven’t even-“ she starts, completely flustered, her face somehow becoming even redder, “we just kissed!” Mitch bursts out laughing, as Y/N and Harry stay completely still, both absolutely mortified. 

“Alright mate, fuck off,” Harry grumbles, praying that Mitch would just leave the uncomfortable situation alone. And he does, still laughing as he finds his way back to the living room. Y/N has no doubt that he would go straight to Sarah and Jeff to share what he’d just seen. Harry turns to 

Y/N and while he tries to maintain a serious face for her sake, he can’t help but let out a small chuckle. 

It wasn’t the first time Mitch had walked in on him during a ‘private’ moment, some a lot worse than what he’d just witnessed. But Harry doubts any would be more shocking than the kiss Mitch had just seen. According to him, Y/N and Harry were at most on civil terms. So to see them, in a more than compromising position must have been a considerable shock to the system. 

“Why are you laughing, you ass?” While Y/N’s words are anything but kind, her face gives away her true feelings, a small grin peeking through. She wasn’t too concerned, Sarah already knew the current situation Harry and Y/N had found themselves in, as well as Y/N’s feelings on it. She was probably waiting for this very scenario to occur.

However, she was worried about where Harry and her would go from here. 

She knew he was attracted to her, he wouldn’t have kissed her otherwise. Y/N couldn’t help but think that maybe Harry had done it in the moment, and didn’t feel that same attraction all the time. What if he saw her leaning in and was pitying her? Y/N was terrified that now that Mitch knew, Harry would be too embarrassed to kiss her again. 

But Y/N’s worry is immediately put to hold when Harry grabs her hand again, “you’ve got to admit it’s funny.” He rubs his thumb against her knuckles, hoping to soothe any worry still running through her veins, “are you okay though?” Y/N smiles and squeezes his hand, “yeh, more than.” 

Harry leans in slowly, making sure that even though Y/N had claimed she was fine, that she would still be okay with him kissing her again. She doesn’t move away, instead moves closer and he smiles and presses a soft kiss against her lips. 

“We should probably get back out there,” he mumbles against her plush lips. She nods in response, squeezing his hand once more before jumping off the counter. “I’ll see you in the living room.” 

—— 

Harry didn’t regret kissing Y/N, not by a long shot. What he did regret, however, is two things. The first was agreeing to continue drinking with Mitch after everyone else had gone to sleep, and the second, kissing Y/N while intoxicated. 

He had enjoyed it, he knew that much. But he’s fully aware that he may not have gotten the chance to absorb every detail of the moment. He couldn’t forget the feeling of her lips against his or the way she bucked up against him. However, he is struggling to recall the way her hips felt under his fingertips, or whether or not he could smell the strawberry scented shampoo she used, that previously, he had only caught gusts of. 

Harry needs to know, when they kissed, did her eyebrows furrow the same way they do when she bites into a warm jam donut? Or when he slotted his hips against hers, did her mouth hang open, eyes shut tightly like when Sarah dug into the knots in her back? Did she make the same sounds Harry had already heard? Or were there some privy only to moments of privacy like the one her and Harry shared? He didn’t think to notice if the skin on her cheeks was as soft as it looked, or even if her hands held onto him as firmly as they had grasped onto the chair, the night Harry had first gotten so close to Y/N. 

Harry couldn’t help but feel like he’d somehow hiked up mountainous terrain, dodged every jagged edge Y/N initially threw at him, stumbled through open conversations and insinuations. Felt he had somehow navigated overwhelming selfishness and every mixed feeling, to finally reach the top and for some stupid reason just close his eyes. He was only just able to smell the mountainside air and feel the rocky surface but was utterly blind to the magnificent sight in front of him. 

Harry was also worried that Y/N was too intoxicated to know what she was doing. Harry was big on consent, always had been, and he knew the chances of drunk him doing something Y/N wasn’t okay with was very unlikely, but what if? What if for some reason he couldn’t read the body language of the girl he had spent months admiring? Or what if she had said something of opposition and he hadn’t heard her? 

Harry was stressed, and the pounding headache beating through his head was definitely not helping. 

He knew the only way to make sure what happened last night was okay and enjoyable for both parties, was simply asking Y/N. So after going to the bathroom, splashing some cold water on his face and changing into some sweatpants, Harry makes the trek downstairs. 

He’s met with an interesting site. Mitch is sitting at the kitchen counter, head in his hands and shaking his head. Jeff is doing dishes and looks to be purposely clanging noisy dishes in front of Mitch and then laughing at each flinch racking from the man's body. While Y/N is standing at the stove, cooking something that Harry can’t decipher, in her cloud pyjama pants and a sweatshirt that looks suspiciously like his.

If Harry listens intently enough, he can hear her humming under her breath, a soft tune that lifts all the features of Harry’s handsome face upwards. 

Harry starts by walking over to Mitch, placing his hands on both of his shoulders and squeezing lightly, “c’mon Jeff, lay off the poor guy!” Jeff only laughs in response jokingly swatting at Mitch's head, still buried within his hands. 

At the joking tone within the kitchen, and the fact that Jeff had not immediately berated Harry about his relationship with Y/N, Harry realised Mitch had decided not to tell the rest of the house. Or at least not Jeff. Harry couldn’t have been more thankful for Mitch's undying loyalty and bizarre talent of somehow knowing exactly what Harry wanted or needed. With Y/N’s relaxed manner, he assumed she had come to the same conclusion.  

At the sound of Harry’s voice, Y/N whips around, her face lighting up at the sight of the man she had kissed not 12 hours ago. And the look of delight and need on Y/N’s face works wonders to calm Harry’s nerves, while Y/N’s were skyrocketing. He looked as handsome as ever with sleep still gracing his features, his chestnut hair in a mess on top of his head and eyes slightly puffy and red. In all honesty, Y/N couldn’t get over how it felt to kiss him, and while it had happened, she couldn’t help but feel thirteen again, with a crush on the cute boy in class. 

It was like he knew exactly what she was thinking, his tongue darting out from between his lips, leaving them wet and glistening in the early morning sun. And Y/N just can’t seem to draw her attention away from them, can’t stop the image of him pressed against her replaying over and over in her mind.

Maybe it was the way her eyes drooped slightly, her nostrils flaring ever so subtly, but Y/N gets the feeling that he knows exactly what she’s thinking, his left eye dropping in a wink that leaves Y/N’s tummy fluttering. 

“Mornin’ love.” His voice is hoarse and deep with residue drowsiness, and it does nothing to ease Y/N’s churning stomach. She coughs lightly before replying, “morning H.” Her voice is uncharacteristically quiet and manner docile, as she tries to hide the less than appropriate thoughts running through her head. 

He walks over to the stove, leaving Jeff and Mitch behind in the presence of someone far more interesting. “Smells good, what are you cookin’?” 

Y/N giggles, the sound unnecessarily loud and she cringes at herself before replying, “um, pancakes. Made some more just in case you guys wanted some.” In truth, Y/N knew Mitch didn’t like pancakes, Sarah wasn’t even awake yet, and Jeff had just started a very strict ‘no sugar’ diet, and so those extra pancakes were specifically for Harry after she had heard his sink running upstairs. And well, Harry knew all of that too. He feels a certain spaciousness in his chest one can only attribute to gratitude, and it makes him want to draw her close to him and kiss her cheek in thanks. 

Instead, Harry grabs her small hand in his and squeezes it lightly, before walking over to the fridge to get the maple syrup. “What’d you want on yours, babe? Nutella?” 

Y/N smiles and nods her head, giddy with the tingling feeling travelling through her hands and the prospect of spending more time with Harry. 

—— 

The day had been quiet. Y/N felt as if she had been wading through water all afternoon, sluggish and slow but somehow using more energy than walking on land required. The whole house felt slow-moving, most of its inhabitants spending the day in front of the TV, reading books or napping. And so it made sense for their daily activity to be a movie night. 

The housemates had decided a Disney marathon would be a perfect end to a hungover day, and with Jeff’s only condition being that they watched ‘Bambi’, everyone was in agreeance. 

Y/N had offered to organise the snacks and drinks while everyone else brought down pillows and blankets from upstairs, the room looking cozier then she had seen it in the past few months, and at the centre of it, Harry.

In the same position, he had been in the night they had sat watching cartoons in the early morning together, only to fall asleep and wake up in each other’s arms. It felt like so long ago now, but Y/N knows in reality, not that much time had passed. She found herself feeling thankful for how their relationship had evolved, and the effect a little time had given them. 

It was funny how far they had come. Y/N was so worried Harry had hated her after that, she now wonders if he’d always felt some type of draw towards her, or if he really had hated her as much as he made out. She briefly wonders if he’s thinking the same thing as she is, as he looks at her questioningly, standing in the doorway of the living room, unmoving. 

Y/N smiles lightly, and begins to move towards the couch, realising that there were three blankets in total, one being used by Mitch and Sarah, seemingly very close underneath the cover, one thrown over Jeff and the other sitting across Harry’s legs. She hesitates for a moment, the obvious choice being Harry, but she isn’t sure where their relationship stood, and more importantly, how much the rest of the housemates knew about it. 

Harry quickly provides a solution, “y’can just share my blanket if you want pet.” Y/N’s tummy flips, but the blank stare she gives him as she runs through all the repercussions (good and bad) coming from her doing that, comes off more as confusion. Did he forget that Jeff didn’t know about the kiss? 

Harry sits uncomfortably in the silence. “Or not, whatever you want.” Silence again, and with each passing second, Harry’s facial expression becomes more and more exasperated. 

Mitch is smirking, giving Harry a knowing glance. Sarah is looking at Mitch confused, obviously trying to figure out her boyfriend's cryptic facial expression. Jeff was the most bewildered of all, clearly completely lost. 

“Fine, fuckin’ forget it. Y’can share a blanket with Jeff ‘Mcvomit’ Aezzof. Or maybe you can jack Mitch off under the blanket with Sarah, and all of us will pretend we don’t know. How bout that hm?” Harry knows he’s being slightly unfair to all those just mentioned. 

A month ago, during a game night, Jeff had consumed slightly too much alcohol and subsequently vomited all over the living room carpet and Harry’s rainbow Gucci boots. Safe to say, Harry was not impressed and hadn’t let Jeff forget it either. 

He also knows he’s being unfair to Sarah and Mitch, although, he’s not exactly wrong. Harry had no proof anything was happening under Sarah’s unicorn blanket but they always sat suspiciously close, and some strange movements had definitely been observed during movie nights, particularly when the crew had binged ‘50 Shades of Grey.’

No one had mentioned it to each other, until one night, Y/N had tried to subtly ask Jeff and Harry if they had noticed too. The two boys immediately agreed, admitting they both had their own suspicions. However, this was the first time anyone had brought it up with the couple in question. 

He’s instantly met with outcry from both Sarah and Mitch.

“Oh for fucks sake H.” 

“You’re so crude.” 

“We do not do that.” 

Jeff also looks unamused, mumbling under his breath, although the shouts from the couple drown his reply out, “you have too much to drink one time, and no one lets you forget it.” 

But Y/N, in true Y/N style laughs, and all of a sudden Harry doesn’t feel nearly as bad for his accusations or his teasing of Jeff. “Alright bug, alright. You made your point, scoot over.” 

Y/N settles under the blanket with Harry, tucking her legs underneath her, trying to maintain a healthy distance from him. She hadn’t really been so consciously close to Harry before, only ever being asleep, drunk or… busy. Y/N noticed his signature scent was present, a warm cedarwood cologne that somehow made her nostrils tickle and insides feel slightly warmer, like a shot of whiskey travelling down her throat and spreading through her tummy. 

Maybe it was the man the smell lingered to that made her feel so comfortable and warm, or perhaps it was the blanket and heat radiating from him, but either way, Y/N loved it. She revelled in the comfort and feeling of safety that she didn’t often bask in, and it was Harry of all people who made her feel like this. 

She briefly wonders what this movie night would entail. She was happy they were already close to each other, stealing glances. Each bout of eye contact bringing a tingle through her spine, a shiver wracking through her shoulders when she noticed him glancing at her with his signature smirk and bright look. 

She was aware that they were slowly moving closer to each other with each passing second of the film playing in front of them. When she had initially sat down next to Harry, she could feel the warmth radiating from him, but now she could feel his side pressed against her, and his leg slightly crossed over hers.

If she’s honest, she was much more focused on the handsome individual sitting next to her than on the movie anyway, and consequently, she missed the first twenty minutes. 

What she cannot miss, however, is Harry’s hand coming to rest gently on her thigh. His palm flat against the plush flesh and his nails lightly scratching at the skin lying over it. 

She looks over at him, his strong jaw and cheekbone highlighted by the dim light of the TV screen, his nose slightly pointed at the end and his long eyelashes fluttering against his skin. She watches as his pink lips tug upwards, bringing a smirk and deep dimple to his handsome face. With that smile, she realises he knows she’s looking at him, and probably knows the effect his touch is having on her. The only acknowledgement she receives is a small squeeze of her thigh. 

She can’t help but scoff, his lax attitude directly opposed her own, if she was honest, she often felt on a different plane than him. Y/N tried to deny it, but she could be highly strung. When she was in a situation where she felt comfortable and safe, she was easygoing, a delight to get along with, and was often confused as someone who was undoubtedly more affable than she really was. 

It was one of the first days of year ten at school when Y/N had experienced her first panic attack. She can still remember the way her hands shook like healthy green leaves in a summer storm, could never forget the tightness in her chest, the closing feeling of her throat, and the tears that blinded her. While the panic attacks had become less frequent as she aged, the underlying symptoms that bubbled into the panic she experienced still tended to rear their ugly heads. 

Harry, on the other hand, seemed endlessly relaxed. While Y/N had initially only seen a more uptight and priggish side of him, it was almost like he enjoyed those negative interactions between them, for the sole reason that he could skillfully get under Y/N’s skin, watch her squirm and burn red. Any other time she witnessed Harry he was almost always equanimous and the voice of reason in the odd little group that found themselves quarantining together. 

He was so comfortable, seemingly so unaffected by her, while she felt his presence made her head spin and heart race. 

He leans closer to her, his curls tickling her collarbone, “are you watchin’ the film?” 

She nods, the action sending a wave of her perfume to invade his nose, the smell somehow so addicting and familiar to Harry now. “Yeh, the sad part is coming soon, though.” 

It’s his turn to scoff, “don’t tell me you’re gonna cry on me.” 

Y/N looks up at him, watching as his bunny-like front teeth capture his bottom lip, “and what if I do, hm?” 

Harry’s first thought is to say he’d get her some tissues and embrace her until the tears seeped into her sullen soaked skin, but he knows that’s even too corny for him. Instead, he looks around the room to find everyone too focused on the movie to pay attention to them, and chuckles lightly, kissing the top of her cheekbone. “Might cry with you love. Poor Bambi, never knew what was comin’.” 

While Y/N looks around the room, she quickly relaxes as she realises no one was paying enough attention to notice Harry’s affectionate action. She stifles a laugh, “we’re in this together then, aren’t we?” 

Harry can’t help but feel like she’s not just referring to a sad Disney movie, but instead the situation they had found themselves in. It was confusing, both of them not entirely over their exes, but both seemingly enamoured with the other, something that felt like it had happened overnight. 

He didn’t know if she felt the same way he did. He simultaneously wanted to fuck the shit out of her and cuddle with her on the couch, for god's sake he wanted to comfort her when she was crying over fucking ‘Bambi.’ Harry was confused. 

He hasn’t felt like this about anyone since Elle, and while Y/N hadn’t spoken about her ex with Harry directly, he had overheard a few snippets of conversation between Sarah and herself. 

Before Y/N had come to stay with the group, Sarah had briefly explained the situation, the fact she had put all her effort into a three-year relationship that had ended brutally, with the asshole showing no remorse towards Y/N or her feelings. Harry didn’t want to push her or himself, but he felt a draw towards her that he couldn’t ignore. 

The way she placed her hand gently on top of his, still laying on her thigh, and tangled their fingers together made his heart swell, and it was at that moment he decided he didn’t care about Elle. For the first time since they broke up, Harry didn’t wish the person he was with was his cheery faced ex-girlfriend. He wanted Y/N, and he hoped with all his heart, she wanted him too. 

He looked over at her, her soft skin and red cheeks glowing gently from the light of the TV screen. 

Harry’s feelings are only confirmed, when he hears the gunshot sounding through the room from the movie, hears a small sniffle coming from the girl next to him, and feels her fingers tightening around his own. Harry knows that somehow, through everything, he wanted Y/N to be there next to him at the end of it. 

—— 

Harry sat stewing in his feelings as the night progressed, each member of the house slowly abandoning the marathon, opting for the warmth of their beds instead. 

If he was honest, Harry was exhausted, but he couldn’t bear to leave Y/N alone. She had waited patiently through everyone else’s choices, sung along with Sarah through ‘The Little Mermaid.’ She had gushed with Mitch over the fantastic visuals in ‘Hercules’ and watched carefully for Harry’s reactions to ‘The Beauty and the Beast,’ squeezing his hand when the last petal fell, and Belle professed her love for the Beast. 

Harry didn’t think it was fair that everyone had chosen bed over watching Y/N’s movie, over singing along to ‘Tangled’ with her. Chosen to sleep instead of talking about how good the animation was and squeezing her hand every time Flynn and Rapunzel were close to kissing. 

So Harry does the best he can. He listens to how excited she gets through the fighting scenes, does his best to sing along to songs he’d never heard before, and listens to her speak about how mean she thought Mother Gothel was. Each scene, he watches her eyes widen in comical child-like glee, and her cheeks flush as she laughs at Harry’s impersonation of Flynn Rider. 

It’s as Mother Gothel is falling out of the window that Harry realises Y/N’s grip on his hand has loosened and that she is resting against his shoulder, asleep. He smiles, bringing his knuckle to brush against her cheek, gently waking her up. As she slightly startles, he kisses her nose, “y’ fell asleep bug.” 

She looks surprised, immediately looking to the screen, “oh shoot. Missed my favourite part too.” Harry can’t help but kiss the small pout that graced her lips as she realises this, which she quickly returns. Harry’s lips tingle as she hums in contentment, causing them to pull apart slightly, Harry touching his lips and giggling. 

It was all so domestic and sweet, a kiss leading to nothing in particular, and Harry loved it. Revelled in the idea of kissing Y/N for the pure pleasure of feeling her soft lips against his own, and for nothing else. As Y/N speaks her lips brush against his, still flush against each other, “we should get to bed.” 

As they both make their way upstairs, hand in hand, they dawdle as if to stall their inevitable parting, and as Y/N prepares to speak their goodbye into existence Harry decides he doesn’t want this night to end. Didn’t want to part from the warmth Y/N provided, to lose the feeling of her face pressed against him or the way her hand felt nestled in his. So Harry does the one thing he can think of, something he may come to regret later, 

“Do you want t’ sleep in my bed tonight? You don’ have to if you don’t want to, of course.” 

Harry observes Y/N’s face, and he feels as if he goes through the same range of emotions as she does. First surprise, then apprehension, her head tilting as she thinks through her decision.

Harry thinks maybe she’s misinterpreting his intentions. Don’t get him wrong, he would jump at the chance to have sex with someone as lovely as her, but he really just wasn’t ready to leave her. Wanted to feel her asleep in his arms, hear the small snores he’s sure she would make and brush her hair away from her face when it looked to be tickling her in the middle of the night. 

“No funny business dove, I promise.” 

Finally, a small smirk graces the young girl's face, her top teeth hooking into her lower lip, a little giggle erupting from her mouth while she nods her head. 

Harry’s face subconsciously matches Y/N’s, a replica giggle floating through his mouth and into the air between them, “yeh?” 

She nods once again, “yeh.” Harry feels nothing but relief, a giddy bubbling feeling erupting from his chest, rushing through to his fingertips. He almost believes she feels the exact same burst of emotion when she squeezes his hand as he pulls her into his bedroom. 

It smells the same as the last time she was in his room, except this time, there was a sense of certainty in the air. While Y/N had previously tiptoed into his private space, terrified of crossing a line both physically and metaphorically, she no longer felt that same apprehension.

She entered the room with confident footsteps, aware that they had already entered a territory in which they would struggle to backtrack from. Aware that Harry would more than likely revel in the fact she was in a space he considered sacred, rather than feel uneasy.

She was correct in her assumption. He watches the way she looks perfectly placed in a room he previously hated anyone else entering, her energy already matching his own, but somehow adding an exuberant light into a space that, before her, had represented his despondency. 

Harry begins getting ready for bed, takes off his pants and shirt, left in only boxers. As the cotton of his top slides over his mass of curls, he catches Y/N staring, her mouth slightly parted, pupils dilated and cheeks pink. 

The cocky boy smirks slightly, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion ever so subtly, and a gust of wind passing through his nose as a form of laughter. “Would you prefer me to keep my pants on babe?” 

His cheeky tone works to bring Y/N from her stupor. She stumbles over her words, clearly embarrassed Harry had caught her ogling at his body, again. “Uh.. no, no whatever’s comfortable, I guess. Do you want to keep your pants on? You can, of course, I just…” 

“Teasing Y/N,” his smirk grows into a grin, his dimple flashing her once again, “I’m only teasing.” She visibly relaxes, her shoulders returning to the normal position, and her eyes closed, trying to shake the remaining embarrassment from her system. 

“You are the worst.” 

He only laughs, “and you take yourself too seriously. Now, do you want a shirt to sleep in?” 

While Y/N might usually be offended by him saying something like that, she knows he’s not wrong. In fact, he’s entirely correct. He just knew exactly how to wind her up, what buttons to push to make a flush rise to her cheeks and for her sentences to become stuttered. 

“That would be nice, thank you.” 

Harry only nods, walking over to the dresser in the corner and rummaging through, pulling out a white shirt with the phrase “enjoy health, eat your honey” on the front. He holds it up in front of his body, waiting for Y/N’s approval, which he quickly receives, throwing it over to her in response. 

She looks at him expectantly, waiting for him to give her the courtesy of changing in private. “Do y’ mind, you lecher?” 

He startles, “oh uh sorry.” Y/N watches as a blush spreads from his cheeks to his neck, a clear sign of his humiliation, and he quickly turns around. 

She changes, giving a soft cough when it’s safe for him to turn around. Harry can hardly believe his eyes, he knew she was beautiful, but fucking hell, it was like an angel had been sent to him from heaven. 

Her legs were soft, and Harry wanted nothing more than to trail kisses up her thighs, past the dotting of stretch marks, patches of missed hair, and the hem of the shirt that sat loosely against her. He could see her nipples poking through the fabric, firm, surrounded by supple flesh, that Harry had trouble to stop imagining. Her face was soft, a pleasant but embarrassed smile pulling along half her face, smoothed by the leftover makeup she hadn’t bothered to remove. 

She was fucking beautiful. 

“Stop looking at me like that you…” 

“Lecher. I know. It’s hard not to be when you look like that.” Her cheeks turn an even darker shade of crimson, and her eyebrows draw up in surprise. Harry didn’t know at what, she was his very own wet dream, and he had trouble imagining that she didn’t know that. 

Unsure of what to say she patters towards the bed, lifting the covers and lying beneath them, facing the side he usually slept on, waiting for Harry to lay in her line of sight. He does, his cheek getting gently squished against the silk pillow, his hair billowing out from his head, creating an unruly mess around his face. 

“I don’t…” she sighs, clearly struggling to string together whatever was going through her mind. Harry grabs the hand laying between them, and gives it a gentle squeeze of encouragement. He had been vulnerable in front of her weeks before they had even shown interest in each other, and he wanted to give her the same comfortable space to talk through what she was feeling. 

She lets out another breath and continues, “I like when you call me beautiful. I just don’t know how to respond, I’m not all that used to it.” She snorts despite herself, “isn’t that sad?” While she’s laughing, Harry can see the sadness set behind her eyes, and so he doesn’t laugh. Only squeezes her hand once more and replies as steadily as he can, “it’s not sad. I understand.” 

Her laugh turns more genuine, “oh so even the Greek god gets self-conscious? Thank god for that.” He quickly matches her jesting tone, “for sure, need to be humbled somehow.” He pulls her closer and rests his head in the crook of her neck, listening as the giggles she emits, vibrate through her body, and he can’t help but smile too. 

He was happy and at peace. And for the first time in a long time, both he and Y/N slept through the night, relief and giddiness seeping through their pores. 

——

Harry awoke in a daze. His arm was numb, his head slightly dizzy and body just a tad too hot. Then he sees Y/N asleep in front of him, head resting on his bicep, hair a mess, and her hand resting on his, placed on the pillow in front of her face, and all of a sudden none of it mattered.

She was beautiful. It makes Harry wonder about the last time they’d woken up together. He remembers feeling scared, denying any comfort he had found within her in his arms, and he wonders if his subconscious had always known she was right for him. 

They seemed to fit together so seamlessly, for a couple who couldn’t stand the sight of each other months prior. 

Harry uses his free hand to sweep her hair away from her neck, leaving a space for him to press his lips against. Her skin was warm, slightly tacky from sweat, and he breathed her in, dragging his nose up and down the nape of her neck. 

He hears her begin to wake, repositioning her legs under the covers and her breath beginning to quicken from the lull of sleep. A small hum of contentment leaves her lips as she feels Harry’s mouth kissing on her skin. 

“Mornin’ sunshine,” he whispers, his breath tickling her. She lets out a laugh, her voice heavy with drowsiness, “morning H.” 

The hand that was already resting loosely in his tightens as she loops their fingers together, “how’d you sleep?” 

He squeezes back, “better than I have in months. What ‘bout you?” 

She leans further back into him and exhales, “so good.” Harry hears the relief in her voice, and he feels it too. Was this all it took to stop his own self wallowing? Being pressed against her? It was like she brought her own kind of calmness to his unstable mind, and while he knew she would disagree with him in saying it, she was a source of purity, a way for him to feel carefree. 

He wanted to tell her, but something was stopping him. What if she wasn’t quite as committed to whatever they were as he was? Harry had never been good with his feelings, preferring to write his emotions into his music. Fuck, sometimes even selling his songs to others to avoid the message coming from his own mouth directly. 

But as Y/N turns around, her mouth inches from his, her eyes wide and doe-like, Harry thinks he’d never be able to live with himself if he didn’t tell her how he felt. The words creep up his throat, and he tastes them on his tongue, sweet and rich. “I... I really like you. I’m not sure how you feel about everything. I just know I haven’t felt like this since… well for a while, and that’s kind of scary.” 

Harry closes his eyes, not wanting to see Y/N laugh in his face, as well as hear it. Instead, he feels a soft hand on the side of his face, her thumb gently brushing against his temple, and then softly against his eyelid, coming to rest just below it. “Open your eyes, dummy.” 

He flutters his eyes open, met with Y/N’s gaze, revering and sweet, “I like you too, Harry. Thought I made it pretty obvious.” While Harry loved Y/N calling him ‘H,’ the slow drawl of ‘Harry’ made a shiver roll up his spine.  

He can hardly contain the smile that slips upon his mouth, leaning up slightly and kissing the thumb resting against his skin. Harry feels his heart beat a little harder in his chest, the relief freeing the worry from his lungs, his muscles finally relaxing, no longer having to uphold the weight of stress upon them. 

If he was candid, Harry had never had to fight for anyone’s affection before. As narcissistic as it sounded, people usually gravitated towards him, whether for the right or wrong intentions. But Y/N had stood her ground, immediately unimpressed by his blase and borderline rude attitude and had reverberated his energy right back at him. If Harry was honest, at first he hated that about her, but it had come to represent her honesty. It made the affection she showed him now that much more special. 

Harry felt as if he had earnt her respect and affection, because he deserved it, not the ‘Harry Styles’ found in the tabloids. He had found someone who made him feel like a real person, and a good one at that, someone who deserved the love she so readily gave him. Harry was lucky enough to be lying next to that someone. 

“You’re right… you did drool over me in the shower. Remember that?” And just like that, the moment of vulnerability is over. 

Y/N lightly slaps Harry’s arm and lets out a disgruntled sound, “aish, you really are a lecher.” He laughs and grabs the hand that just hit him, bringing it back up to his face and kisses her palm gently. He looks back at her face, all traces of aggravation wiped from it like cheap lipstick, replaced with contentment instead. She slips her hand back to the side of his neck, her fingertips trailing through the baby hairs laying against his skin and kisses him. Her lips feel slightly chapped but still so warm, and Harry let’s out a relieved exhale. 

He couldn’t explain why, but this kiss felt different from any other he’d experienced with Y/N, hell any other he’d shared with anyone. It had all the intensity and lust of their kiss in the kitchen, added with a sense of emotion that Harry couldn’t quite place. Each press of her mouth, each swipe of her tongue or gentle nibble of his lower lip felt like she was desperately trying to convey every feeling Harry previously doubted existed. 

Harry remembers the night of their first kiss, recalls thinking he had never felt lust like that before, never wanted to kiss someone so badly, but now laying in this bed with Y/N running her hand through his hair and her hips lightly bucking towards him, Harry feels as if he’s surpassed the way he had felt then. 

He feels pure unadulterated need flowing through his veins, can’t even begin to explain how much he wanted Y/N. She turned to fully face him, tangling their feet together and pressing herself further into the kiss. Harry wishes he could give her more, wants to bring every drop of pleasure to her he possibly could, wants to touch and kiss each part of her. It felt as if a spark had lit within his body, beginning at his chest, travelling all the way through to his fingertips, and straight to his groin. 

Harry brings his thigh between her legs, and she takes advantage of it instantly, rubbing against him. He groans as he feels her warmth pressed against his leg, and he can tell she is suppressing her moans of pleasure as she pushes down harder with each gyration of her hips. 

“Tha’s it baby, get what you need.” 

At this, she leans her head back, a mewl erupting from her throat. Harry kisses down her exposed neck, sucking and nipping a love bite into the skin below him. Bringing his hands to her waist lightly, he helps to guide her in grinding against the thick muscle of his leg. 

She grabs one of his hands grappling at her hip and brings it to her chest, where he feels her hard nipple poking through the thin material of her top. He squeezes and pinches gently, hearing her breath hitch directly in his ear, bringing goosebumps to the skin along his arms, her hands grabbing his broad shoulders and neck. 

With his other hand, he slowly slips his thumb past the hem of her sweatpants, running it along the soft skin there. The tickling sensation completely contradicts the harsh action of her hips rubbing against him, causing a shiver to trickle down her spine. Y/N whines into his ear so quietly, Harry wonders if he actually heard her at all. “Please.” 

“What do you need, hm? Tell me.” 

A bated breath parts her lips, “fuck…anything.” She knows it’s not enough, knows Harry wants to hear exactly what she wants from him, but she’s embarrassed. Isn’t quite used to anyone asking her what she wanted and needed, and Harry’s filthy tongue only brings her more unnecessary shame. 

“C’mon Y/N, use your words. I’ll give you whatever you want, just use your word’s for me.” 

Her hands dig into his shoulders, “fingers, please!”

He kisses her temple and murmurs a quick, “good girl,” before dipping his hand completely into the front of her pants, still only teasing along the line of her underwear. 

Y/N’s not sure how much she can take. Every move, every touch is goading and light, clearly trying to provoke her, and as much as she loves it, she needs relief. She grabs at his arm that is currently so close to the place she needs him to be and tries to force it closer to her, harder against her, anything other than what he’s doing now. “Harry… c’mon, please,” she all but cries. 

He chuckles before slipping into her underwear, feeling her wet heat against his fingertips, she was already dripping for him before he’d even touched her. He presses her clit gently while he kisses against her neck, flicking his tongue against the ghost of the hickey he had given her earlier, the pain mixing so deliciously with the pleasure. 

While he had stopped his teasing touches, it didn’t stop him from using his teasing words. 

“This the first time you’ve gotten so wet for me, pet?” She furrows her eyebrows, shaking her head side to side, attempting to hide her face into his neck. He feigns surprise, “no? Filthy girl. Ever touched yourself thinking about me?” She whines, picking up on his teasing, further burrowing her face away from him, trying to hide the very obvious flush that had risen to her cheeks. 

He laughs, nudging her head with his nose, trying to encourage her to show her face again. She mewls once more, the only indication she heard him was the bucking of her hips against his fingers, now inside of her and stroking against her g-spot. 

“Next time, just ask for my help instead,” he murmurs into her ear, biting at her earlobe. She hisses, attempting to press against him even harder, get even closer to him, although it was almost impossible, being pressed flush against each other with his fingers knuckle deep in her cunt. 

He licks against her jaw, feeling the strong bone under the tender flesh, the warmth of his breath blowing against the damp skin of her neck causes her to shiver, “can I taste you?” Y/N doesn’t think she’s ever nodded her head harder, her eyes rolling back into her head, merely thinking about Harry tonguing the sensitive skin between her legs. 

He continues to kiss down her neck, taking extra time to lick against the dip in her collarbones, revelling in the tangy taste of sweat invading his mouth. He sucks her nipples through her shirt, the material clearly wet and spit-soaked once he pulls away, the air surrounding them, making the outline of her areola obvious. 

He presses a few chaste kisses against the swell of her tummy, finally reaching where she needed him most. He slowly pulls her pants down her legs, trailing the hem with pecks against each inch of newly exposed skin. Grabbing each ankle, he pulls the cuffing over her feet, playfully biting at the bone on her ankle, causing a shriek and a giggle to erupt from her and a playful press against his cheek, imitating a kick to his jaw. 

He laughs, batting her foot away from his face. “Oi don’t damage the money-maker!” 

 Y/N bursts out laughing, shaking her head. He was an idiot, but she loved that they can switch between moods so quickly. While she’s still laughing, he’s pushing her legs apart, his hand nearly fitting over the whole surface of her inner thigh. “C’mon love, spread your legs fo’ me.” 

And with that, Y/N stops laughing. 

While continuing to push against her leg, he presses an open mouth kiss against the front of her underwear, already able to taste the heady flavour. Harry can’t help but let out a deep groan, every nerve ending set alight at his mouth finally around her cunt. The tip of Y/N’s tongue tingles with a beg for him to take off her underwear, but Harry acts on his own accord, almost ripping the garment off in his haste. 

If Harry thought the taste of her was mouthwatering through the cotton, the taste of her without it was even better. 

He had meant to tease her, he really had, but he can’t help but lick straight into her weeping hole, moaning at the taste and the smooth feeling of her smeared against his mouth. Spreading her lips with his pointer and ring finger, Harry continues to explore, flicking his tongue against the swollen bud underneath her pubic bone, causing a loud moan to erupt from her mouth. 

“Holy fuck Harry! Feels so good.” 

Harry tucks two of his fingers into her while sucking at her clit, Y/N tugging at his curls harshly in response. 

It feels so good, but Y/N needs more. The feeling of Harry’s fingers is making her skin tingle, and her legs shake, but she wants nothing more than to be stretched out by him. She wants him to give her everything, push into her slowly, stretch her pussy, and finally feel his cum spurting into her. 

So she pulls him up, one hand still intertwined in his hair and the other on his shoulder, scratching and pulling as a hint to bring his mouth to hers. At first, he’s hesitant, grumbling slightly in annoyance, not wanting to part from her, “Harry please, want to kiss you.” 

He gives her one more harsh suck, before sliding back up her body, where Y/N is waiting with her mouth open and her eyes on him. Harry smirks, slipping the two fingers that had just been inside of her against her tongue, feeling more blood rushing between his legs at the feeling of her licking and sucking them as if it were his cock. 

She bites gently, causing a hiss to escape from his mouth as he drags them back out slowly, quickly replacing his fingers with his lips, licking into her mouth.

The tangy taste of her own cum slips past her tastebuds again, and Y/N had never been one to find it hot, but with the salty flavour transferring from Harry’s fingers and tongue, she’d never been more attracted to her own taste. 

Y/N desperately wants to mix his cum with hers, wants to swallow around his cock and feel the intoxicating mixture slide down her throat, “I wanna taste you now.” 

He breathes through his nose heavily and shakes his head, “just want to feel you. ‘M not gonna last long if you suck me off as well.” Y/N whines, but by the longing look Harry gives her pouting lips, it seems he’s not entirely content with his decision either. 

He reaches over her shoulder, digging into the set of drawers next to the bed, giving Y/N the perfect view of his broad chest, littered with tattoos. He looks so tan, his muscles rippling under the smooth skin, and she wants nothing more than to litter it with love bites and scratches. She teasingly licks at his nipple, and he startles, an uncharacteristic giggle leaving his lips as he comes back to lie in front of her, in his hand a condom. 

Suddenly his eyes clear, the lust caused fog fading, “you still okay with this? We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” 

Her heart swells, how was it possible that this Adonis-like man was also so sweet? There was nothing she wanted more than to be with Harry in every way and right now, she needed him inside of her, “yes Harry. Do you?” 

He scoffs some, “fuck yes,” he mumbles his next statement as he tucks his head under her jaw, putting the condom on at the same time, “feel like my dicks gonna fall off, I’m that hard.” 

She laughs, wrapping her arms around him, she’d never felt so happy and complete, so overwhelmed. Every positive emotion was combining within her, creating a whirlwind of passion and love, causing each feeling to increase tenfold. 

The head of Harry’s cock slips through her folds, sending a zap of pleasure through her each time it nudges her clit, and he smirks each time she twitches, unconsciously arching up towards him. “Y’ ready?” 

She nods, moving her hips closer, making her own attempt to be filled by him. 

Slowly, Harry enters her, each inch causing the delicious burn from him stretching her walls increasing. Y/N almost chokes on her own moans, can hardly stand how good he feels or the way her muscles spasm attempting to adjust to the intrusion. It feels as if each ridge and curve was being simulated, each nerve ending firing again and making her head feel dizzy. 

Harry almost looks like he’s in pain with his eyes shut so tightly, Y/N can see the wrinkles surrounding them. His mouth is parted with sharp breaths entering and leaving his mouth, his head hung back, and his jawline sharp enough to cut glass. 

“Holy fuck. You feel so fucking good.” 

At the sound of his voice, Y/N clenches, making Harry cry out. “Move H. Fuck me, please.” 

He begins slowly, pulling out before slamming back into her, reaching so far Y/N can feel him in her tummy. 

He intertwines their fingers and holds them against the pillow her head rests on. She squeezes them, and he leans his forehead against hers, the tender action contradicting the harsh snaps of his hips. “How do you feel so good?” He whimpers. She nudges his chin with her nose, pushing his lips closer to hers, each thrust smearing them closer together. 

“You’re so good to me H,” she whispers back as she wraps one of her hands behind his head, his neck in the crook of her elbow. Using leverage from her other hand against the bed, she pushes her hips upwards, creating double the amount of friction between them. The actions causing both of them to cry out, Harry seeming to be pushed impossibly further inside of her, the head of him nudging against her cervix. 

“Fuck that’s it. Look at you, usin’ me to get yourself off.”

While the new angle felt so good, it was quickly tiring. Harry could see Y/N fatiguing after a few minutes, knowing the burn in her legs would be almost unbearable at this point. So he tucks his arms under her outstretched ones, laying his torso against hers and tucking his head into her neck, kissing lightly as he completely slows down his movements. He stops the whine that leaves her throat with a quick, “shh, it’s okay. Just wanna take my time with you, never want this to end.” 

While running her hand through his curls and holding the back of his neck closer to her chest, she replies, “me either baby.” 

They spend some time like this, just enjoying each other’s company and the feel of being so close to one another. Y/N breathes deeply, the smell of sex in the room mixing with Harry’s cologne, making her relax and let out a contented sigh. She had never felt more full and so satisfied, with a hint of an orgasm sparking between her hip bones, the dull ember just waiting to be fully ignited by his movements. 

As if sensing this, he speeds up once again. The burn that stretches through her legs as Harry pulls them over his shoulders, mixes with the pleasure of his thrusts, the head of his cock nudging her g-spot with each deep drive of his hips. 

Y/N cries out, grabbing at his shoulders, her nails unintentionally digging into the skin, creating small red crescents along the tense muscles connecting his neck to his scapula. 

He just feels so good. Every movement of his hips, each inhale and exhale, each brush of their lips and dig of his fingers brings Y/N even closer to her orgasm. She can’t tell if Harry plans each of these things with her pleasure in regard or if it’s the chemistry between them that’s causing every sensation to be felt tenfold. All she knows is that she would happily lie under Harry for the rest of her life if it meant she always felt this weightless. 

Harry’s balls make a sharp ‘thwack’ against her ass each time he thrusts, the sound of her arousal echoing through the room, in such a crude fashion, Y/N almost has time to feel embarrassed. On the other hand, Harry revels in the sound, loves the fact he can see, hear, touch every part of her arousal, surrounding them in their own cocoon of sex and pleasure. 

“C’mon Y/N, please. Cum on my cock.” While Y/N had already been feeling the building pressure of her impending orgasm, Harry’s words only work to bring it faster. “Please Y/N,” she bucks up against him, chasing the feeling of his pubic bone rubbing against her already sensitive clit. “Good girl. Fuck, you’re my good fucking girl, aren’t you?” She whines a response, the noise high pitched and hoarse. Harry sees Y/N’s desperate search for her finish, and brings two fingers down, rubbing at her clit. 

“Fuck, yes, Harry!” Y/N can’t describe how overwhelmed she is with pleasure and feeling. Her face feels flushed and sticky with sweat, her legs are slightly cramped from her constant strain to get closer to Harry and his cock buried in her cunt, and when Harry brings one of his ring adorned hands to wrap comfortably around her neck, suddenly Y/N feels weightless. She feels the burst of pleasure from between her legs, a zip running up her spine, leaving her limbs with a tingle. 

Harry hears her cum before he sees it, the moans dripping from her mouth, her eyes widening before she’s squeezing them tightly together. Harry knew he would play that exact moment on replay for the rest of his fucking life. 

He watches as she brings her hand up to his that’s still spread around her neck, and Harry almost can’t stand it when he feels her squeezing it tighter, begging for Harry to give her more. If he wasn’t so close to cumming, Harry might’ve teased her, loosened his grip on purpose to watch her squirm and whine, whisper in her ear how hot it was to see how desperate she was for Harry to simply touch her, alas he’s too close. Can barely form a coherent thought, let alone tease her. So instead he appeases her, tightens his grips and begins to pound into her harder, searching for his own release.

Finally, it comes, Harry releasing a deep groan, grabbing onto the pillow next to her head, letting out a deep moan. Both of them can feel each rope of cum, as Y/N’s own orgasm works to milk each drop from him. 

His movements slowly come to a stop, leaving him tucked inside of her as his length softens. Wrapping his arms around her once again, he revels in the warmth and comfort she brings, his lips pressing against hers gently. “Fuckin’ hell.” 

Y/N giggles and nods in agreement. How had they spent so long fighting when this was the result of them getting along. She still feels Harry shifting above her, the aftershocks of her orgasm, creating an increase in sensitivity, each movement from the handsome boy above her sending a jolt through her whole body. 

“Fuck you’re still squeezin’ me pet.” She hugs into him tighter as yet another twitch is brought from his prick still buried deep within her, “mhm, still sensitive but you feel so good.” 

He kisses her soft temple, “lucky for you, in about fifteen minutes, we can go again.” Y/N scoffs, her head leaving the crook of his neck to give him a dirty look only to be met with his deep smirk. His famous dimples indented next to his smile, as he giggles and brushes his nose against the swell of her cheek. 

“You really are…” his giggle is joined by her own. 

“A lecher,” they finish together. 

[iwadori]

hello! I love your works so much! Can I request an angst to comfort scenario for #21 on your prompt list?

“It’s my fault for trusting you”

Feel free to use whichever character(s) you like!!

When the haikyu boys neglect you for another girl PT 3

Part One Part Two Part Three Part four Part Five

Word Count: 2.7K

Genre: angst,fluff

masterlist

Akaashi

You and Akaashi were beautiful people

Probably the most attractive pair of young adults that anyone can find

You were both top tier models in the industry

You always had a little rivalry between you but you always promised each other to never let it affect your ‘relationship’

“Beautiful darling, your beautiful” praised your photographer as you finished your shoot giving you air kisses on your cheeks. You thanked him and the rest of the staff and entered your dressing room sighing.

“Rough day?” Asked a voice, startling you a bit. You looked up to see your boyfriend, Akaashi Keiji sitting in the corner of your dressing room on a love seat.  

“Gosh Keiji you scared me” clutching your chest dramatically “But yes, the day has been tiring Fabio has really been overworking me lately” you complained. Akaashi walks towards you and gave you a peck on the cheek “Aww poor baby” he cooed mockingly, “but don’t worry ‘bout it Y/N your sucess will be all be worth it eventually” he says making you smile.

“and besides, you’ve got a shoot with me soon anyways” he winks, making you chuckle. You finished removing your make-up as Akaashi tells you about his shoot today and Bokuto’s (your fellow model friend) antics.  

You and Akaashi first laid eyes on eachother when you were both up and coming models, you both are under the same company. At first, both of your agents decided to make you spend time with each other to push the narrative of you being a couple anyways. However, since you and Akaashi had great natural chemistry it made your relationship great and made for a great photo too.  

As much as the public loved your relationship and the saucy photos you tend to make together, they also thrived of the slight rivalry you guys had together or the times when you guys bother shot with other people (since it was easy for a fan to make a new ship off of two people literally standing next to each other.)

You spent the next day having what you and Akaashi called a ‘rest day,’ you both specifically clear your schedules for every 2nd and 4th saturday of each month to not do any work-related for the day and just bask in each other’s companies (as you were both busy and barely got enough time to see one another.)

You watched multiple movies, made your own homemade cookies and dinner, had pillow fights, built forts. You both were having so much fun, until you both got a call...Just then, the vibe changed you went from your free-spirited fun selfs back into work mode.

Your agent told you that two brands *Insert big fashion designer brand here* and *Insert another big fashion designer brand here* were having some form of standoff. To be honest, you didn’t really care about the context of the shoot(s) in this case, as your agents call ruined your day. They wanted you and Tsukishima Kei, to do some competing shoots and promotional videos for their brand against the other designer.

After getting all your information from your agent, you go back into the living and see Akaashi sitting down thinking deeply about something. “What was your call about?” you inquire sitting down next to him.

“Oh just some silly designer brand competition thing.” he mindlessly replies, still thinking deeply.

“Yeah same. So what’s got you thinking all deeply then?” you ask

“My fellow model is going to be Kiyoko Shimuzu” he sighed, making you blink repeatedly before immediately saying “You can’t do the shoot”

Kiyoko Shimuzu was japans beauty. Everybody loved her, she’s been a model since she was a child everyone wanting a grasp on her looks. The guys wanted her, the girls wanted to be here. Kiyoko Shimuzu was a force to be reckon with.

The real problem at hand wasn’t her stunning looks, popularity and fame. It was her connection with Akaashi. Before Akaashi went big and met you, he was Kiyoko’s boyfriend (well ex-boyfriend now) and they broke up because of long-distance or something like that.

However, to you, Kiyoko’s feelings for your boyfriend have never went away. Whenever you guys bumped into each other at red carpet events or runway shows, she always seemed to linger a bit too long around your boyfriend, which definitely wasn’t to your liking.

Akaashi lifted up his head from inside his palms and looked at you as if you had grown another head. “What do you mean, ‘I can’t do the shoot’” he asked in disbelief

“I mean, you can’t do the shoot” you reiterated not understanding why he didn’t understand.  

Akaashi sighs before putting his face back in his hands to think, “Well I know you got to the shoot aswell Y/N who’s yours with.”

“Tsukki” You said nonchalantly say as if it was nothing, making Akaashi look at you again as if you were fully crazy before he had a chance to speak you cut him off saying “Don’t even start Akaashi.”

You and Tsukishima Kei, have best friends since you were kids. You weren’t romantic in any way shape or form, well at least you weren’t. Akaashi always claimed that that Tsukishima was in love with you, that you and Tsukishima were the perfect example of every ‘childhood friends-lovers trope’ ever, which to you wasn’t true. Everything between you and Tsukishima was and still is completely platonic which you can’t say the same for Akaashi and Kiyoko.

“You’re not doing the shoot” he says firmly as if he was your father.  

“Oh so you can do your shoot with your literally EX GIRLFRIEND, but I can’t do mine with my best friend... yeah make sense” you say standing up, astounded.

“Y/N chill, If you’re so adamant about me not doing it with Shi- Kiyoko, then I wont” he says pulling your arm down making you land on him “and you better not do it with ‘Tsukki’” he mocked.

“Okay so none of us are doing the shoots?” you ask looking up at him  

“Yup” he says  

“Pinky promise,” you joked sticking out your pinky in his face.

“Pinky promise” he agreed hooking his finger around yours.

For the next month it seemed you were booked busy, you barely got to see your boyfriend as his agent had him running around all of Japan and even had him booked in some places in Europe for this month. Of course, you missed him, but you understand how busy it can be doing your line of work. You’ve been quite busy too, doing the usual shoots and runways.

Although he was busy, Akaashi basically went radio silent on you. You still expected him to reply to some of your messages or at least call once or twice when he had the chance, since he must have 10 minutes of break time and that's the bare minimum.

It’s been two weeks since you last saw Akaashi (and that was on your saturday rest day) and you were expecting him to come over today so you could have another. Since of course, Saturday ‘rest days’ were basically a tradition for you and Akaashi before you even started dating.

You had no text from Akaashi explaining his lateness/absense, so you just figured he wasn’t coming putting a damper on your day. You spent the day lounging around and shoving your face with your favourite snacks and food.

You get a text from Tsukishima which read:

Tsukishima: 1 Image Attached  

Tsukishima: Looks whose boyfriend stumbled on set...

You didn’t respond as you were shocked at the sight you saw, the image was a picture of Akaashi and Kiyoko on set doing shots for the *insert the other rich designer brand* the shoot that you both agreed you wouldn’t do, which was also a LINGERE brand.  

You felt betrayed, you both agreed to not do the shoot and it’s not like you did do yours. You made sure to turn it down the day you made your agreement. And he skipped on your traditional saturday ‘rest day’ without even giving you any word of him not planning on arriving.

You didn’t know what to do, do you confront him about it? Or do you wait for him to approach you? Since he would plan on telling you about this right? You eventually messaged Tsukishima a ‘thanks’ and you decided how you were going to handle the situation. Pop up on Akaashi and Kiyoko at the photoshoot.

You knew where it was at, since you had the address already from when your agent first offered you the idea. You drove to the place in a breakneck speed, strutting in there like a woman on a mission (which you technically were.) You decided to wait in Akaashi’s dressing room, not wanting to cause a scene at the shoot which would be bad for yours, Akaashi’s and Kiyoko’s image and would be a waste of the time of the staff and photographer there.

Akaashi finally finished the shoot and entered his room with a sigh not realising that you were sitting in the corner of his room. “Did you have a rough time?” you ask mockingly making him jump and his eyes widen as you were the last person he expected to be there. “Why so shocked, you weren’t expecting me?” you still keep the same mocking tone in your speech.

“Y/N I-” He started  

“Y/N what?” You interrupted “Y/N I’m sorry for basically ghosting you for a month? I'm sorry for doing a shoot with someone who I know is still in love with me? I’m sorry for lying to you? I’m sorry for skipping out on our rest day with no explanation on where I am?” you stare at him as he stares back speechless.

“Oh, am I missing something?” you continue “Oh yes ‘Y/n I’m sorry for doing the shoot that we both agreed that we weren’t doing’” you sit down and wait for him to reply.

Akaashi puts his head down in shame, not really knowing what to say. Because of his silence, you roll your eyes and get up fed up with his lack of explanation. Before you fully leave Akaashi blocks your way with slight tears in his eyes “I had no other choice Y/N, I had to do all those shoots and travel other places with Kiyoko because sh-”

“Wait, that’s where you were?” you shout “Gallivanting around the country with HER!” you extend your arm pointing outside the door before you turn trying to leave again.

“N-No No Y/N you’ve got to listen to me” he said putting your hands on my shoulder “She has something, on me and I-I couldn’t I can’t get out of it. It’s deeper than just a simple shoot.” You were confused but you were so upset you just didn’t want to hear it so instead of listening to your boyfriend you decided to say “you’re so full of shit Akaashi” making him gasp at your coldness and the use of his last name. “ but hey I guess thats my fault for trusting you”

You finally left the room and went to go get a breather for a second with tears sparking in your eyes. You leaned against the wall and whispered “fuck” frustrated with the whole situation. Making you jump, Tsukishima said “you should go talk to him you know.”  

“What do you know Tsukki” he cringed at the nickname

“I know more than you Y/N, just go talk to him.” he said making you squint your eyes at him wondering what information he held.

When you walked back to Akaashi’s dressing room practicing an apology in your head. But you paused your arrival hearing Akaashi talking to the one and only, Kiyoko Shimuzu in his room.

“Let’s face it Akaashi, now that I’ve got this sex tape of us, I basically own you.” she said to him making your eyes widen.  

You decided the smartest thing to do was to pull out your phone and record as much as the conversation as you possibly could. Because you could already tell Akaashi was in a bind.

“The next thing I want you to do is...” she continued acting as if she was thinking “break it with Y/N!”

“No certainly not Kiyoko, you’re going too far.” he said making you smile internally that he still defended your relationship. “Me and Y/N are definitely NOT breaking up.”

“Akaashi are you forgetting that I have something over you.” she pulls out her phone and she plays a video, which you can only assume is the sex tape. You can hear a bunch of moans and groans which made your stomache ache.

Tired of hearing this, you burst into the room and say “What the fuck are you doing Kiyoko”  

“Oh Y/N how lovely for you to join us...” she said with a smile, “I was just discussing with your ‘boyfriend’ plans for our next shoots.”

“I always knew you were a bitch.” you say shocking your head at her.

“What do you mean Y/N?” she says with a fake smile, not knowing that you were listening in on your conversation “Actually Akaashi was telling me something he had to tell you... isn’t that right Akaashi.” you both looked over at him and he was scared and speechless.

“Oh you mean how you’ve been blackmailing him for the past two weeks...” you accuse  

“You have no proof of that.” She taunted  

“Oh do I..” you rebuttal then pressing play on the recording you just took watching as both Kiyoko and Akaashi look shocked. Kiyoko scurries out the room knowing she’s been caught leaving you with a triumphant smile.

You sit down, gesturing Akaashi to sit next to you. “Akaashi, I’m so sorry for not listening to you earlier I felt so betrayed thinking that you went agaisnt out agreement, but I guess I was just being a self-obsessed bitch” you say with you now looking down in shame.

“Y/N” he says with you still not meeting his eye “Y/N look at me” he lifted your chin up so you met his eye “It’s fine, It’s completely fine you didn’t know of course you didn’t know, how would you know of sex tape I unknowingly did back when I was 16!” he exclaims “Its fine, we’re good” he pulls you into a hug and kisses you on the forehead.

After you both calm down, Akaashi explains how Kiyoko started to blackmail him and how the agency loved the idea of them two being together (not the blackmailing) as it created a jealousy storyline between you and her and how every time they met she kept proposing ridiculous demands.

“Also, how did you know I ended doing the shoot?” he asks

“Oh a little bird told me” you tease  

“You mean a 6ft2 bird with blonde hair and a shit personality.” he retorts making you laugh  

“Heyy don’t be so mean, if it wasn’t for him I wouldn’t of came to save the day.”

“True, I’d give him that.”

Eventually, you and Akaashi go to your agency and present all your evidence and claims that Kiyoko was blackmailing Akaashi. Although they were upset, that Akaashi did partake in a sex tape they knew that they’d be an even bigger scandal if you presented your news that Japans sweetheart Kiyoko Shimuzu was blackmailing Akaashi Keiji. So the agency thought it was in everyones best interest if they got Kiyoko to sign an NDA saying that she will never bring forth or share the Sex Tape to anyone and she’ll agree to be dropped from the agency.

Your life was great now, with Kiyoko off your back and Akaashi being back to his usual self you couldn’t wish for anything more. You ended up doing the shoot persuading the design brand person (whatever the name for it is) to agree to let you do the shoot together instead of with other people. Both brands let you, because who wouldn’t want Akaashi Keiji and L/N Y/N to do a shoot together?

AUTHORS NOTE: this is the longest work ive written for a single character and i am TIRED lol..I’m so glad you’ve enjoyed my other works so I hope you enjoy this one.. to be honest I think with my works I start off strong and end shitly :// However I wanted to do something different today by making them models instead of students so I hope you like it. Now im off to read some fanfic so you guys have a good day!! <3 

[literate-simp]

BEING BESTIES W/ SOME JJK CHARACTERS; Yuuji, Megumi, Nobara, Gojou and Sukuna.

Notes: Look. I know we all simp terribly for our husbandos/waifus but I just wanted to write a simple hc about what it's like to be their besties

Warning(s): slight cursing. I indulged too much on Sukuna.

Includes: gn! reader, fluff, chaotic energy, mentions of romance (just light)

Itadori Yuji

He's friends with everyone, says hi to strangers and probably would be besties with every old lady he meets so it wasn't hard to be friends with him.

But the second he becomes besties with you, shit's gonna get borderline chaotic.

3AM and y'all can't sleep? McDonald's parking lot with an abandoned shopping car would sound damned fine. You both remember the moment as 'Chicken Nuggies and the Wind' since he t-posed on the moving cart whilst eating nuggies (you both almost scratched a Ferari).

If you weren't a jujutsu sorcerer in training, he'd still try to sneak you in his room to watch some movies. You with the snacks, leaving Yuji in charge of the movie picking (you can't decide to save your life)

Cuddles! Nothing wrong with besties cuddling. He's extremely respectful to your s/o (if you have one) and are probably good friends with them too!

Though the second you come to him crying, they were already being patched up in the hospital. Won't hit a woman, against his morals, but he will make sure she never speaks to you again.

Understanding, chaotic besties! An arm around your shoulder when someone's obviously making you uncomfortable, he's the one barking when he sees someone slip something into your drink.

The friend to help you find your way out of a frat house. Makes sure you're getting touched with your consent and sober. All you need to do is give him a sign that you're alright and he'll give you a thumbs up before leaving.

Definitely the friend you'd open up to (about anything) and not be treated differently after so.

You told him about your problems a few minutes prior. It was quiet, a bit too quiet. And you were worried he might leave you for it.

"Ey, Y/N. Wanna go to McDonald's again? I think they have that burger you like," He blurts, catching you off guard. You raise your eyebrows before smiling gratefully.

"Sounds great, Itadori."

You guys talk about women with butts all the time. Not out of thirst or anything, it would just be a random thought that comes up and one of you would contribute to the other. You once mentioned something about Jennifer Lawrence and he would not stop talkinf about her. It was hilarious how much he was drooling.

You wear his hoodies and he's fine with it. Thinks you look good in them. Sukuna teases you both about your relationship and Yuji slaps his mouth shut before he says anything more.

"You look great in them, Y/N," Itadori grins, rummaging through his closet to find more hoodies.

"Thank you. They're pretty comfy," You mention the fabric and the fluffiness. He listens to you intently before Sukuna pops out from his cheek.

"Ehhh? This is the one you think about everyday--," Itadori has never slapped his cheek so hard before in his life.

Megumi Fushiguro

Honestly, pretty chill dude.

He has a small group of people he trusts, and a smaller one to which he considers to be his good friends.

So to be his best friend, you must've gained a huge amount of respect from him; saved him, maybe even overheard something you shouldn't have and kept quiet about it on your own accord.

You would have a 'you aren't comfortable with it, so I'm not forcing anything' vibe to which he would be relieved to know. Though even so, you are the more hyper one in the platonic relationship.

Outings would consist of trips to libraries or quiet nights on the couch with your legs entangled together with lo-fi music playing in the background.

Not much talking, Megumi likes to keep to himself and you have no problem with the comfortable silence you both bring together.

Though sometimes it gets too quiet so you annoy the hell out of him to get his attention; cheek poking, soft arm punches, slight pushing.

Megumi ignores this, finding your actions a bit cute. If it gets too annoying, he will get up and leave, having you trail behind him, whining like a child wanting candy.

Yuji would join in. Definitely. Nobara too if she was bored enough.

"Megumi~ I want your attention~," You whine, running after the raven-haired man.

"Yeah! Yeah! Pay attention to Y/N!" Yuji supports you. You clap your hands together, only to be hit with a shoe by Megumi.

He would never do anything outside of your comfort zone. If you had an s/o, they both would be neutral with each other.

If you were to get hurt from said s/o, they would leave your house with a bloody knuckle. He wouldn't hit a girl, but he definitely will destroy whatever life she has outside of your relationship with her.

Parties are a no-go for him, unless his friends force him to. He's the designated driver with three other drunk children (Hint; Yuuji, Nobara and you). He wouldn't carry anyone else but you back to your room.

"Jeez, Y/N. You should know how to handle your alcohol," Megumi sighs, laying you on top of your bed gently and pulling the covers up.

"Nngh. Didn't know it was alcohol," You groaned. He smiles, patting your cheek before getting up to leave.

"I'll get you some painkillers in the morning, alright?"

You can wear his sweatshirts if you annoy him about it (he secretly likes how comfortable you are around him). He thinks you look charming in them, Yuji never shuts up about your friendship. It's the few times he's seen Megumi genuinely smile.

Nobara Kugisaki

Radiates bad bitch energy.

It isn't easy in the first stages since she has standards with friends but the second you both find something similar about each other, it's an immediate ride-or-die friendship.

You would need a major backbone, 'I'm too hot for this bs' kinda vibe (it's canon that the reader is a bad bitch, periodt). You would have arguments with her but it's pretty basic stuff like the perfect colour for nailpolish or whether Maki deserves the Earth or the universe (you both agree it's the universe).

Outings consists of shopping malls and popular cafes. You take selfies everytime you see something relatively new.

Talk about anything under the sun -- newest trends, new food to try out, Maki -- but her favourites are hearing you talk about your day. If you weren't a jujutsu sorcerer, she'd visit your apartment, give you a hug and sit on the couch to listen to you blabber away about something that isn't related to curses or death. She needs time to rewind and you never mention how vulnerable she looks when she's tired.

"Uh-huh and what happens next?" Nobara asked, carressing your hair as you lay on her lap.

"He wouldn't stop following us! It was so creepy! No means no right? Like why would you waste your energy following a group of friends who aren't interested?" You ranted on. Nobara simply nods in agreement, smiling at your annoyed face.

She doesn't mind your s/o, probably would just say hi before leaving you two alone. She doesn't have a problem about her friends having a relationship, she does, however, gets pissed that she isn't in one.

If you come to her crying about them, she would slither in some 'fuckin told you they were gonna do it' or 'I told you so'. Though it makes you upset, you know she's gonna trash their house the second you leave the room.

Your (now) ex would suddenly be cancelled beyond belief, you wouldn't know what happened to them.

Despite the bad bitch personality, you are the more patient one.

Parties is a yes. She comes in as a self-confident woman and will leave self-confident and drunk. She's the life of the party and pulls you into conversations to keep you company. Even if you don't contribute much to the conversation, she makes sure you aren't out of her sight. She's not the type to bring a friend to a party and leave them the second after. She cares about you even if her way of showing was a bit too pushy.

You share clothes with her and she'll give you comments about it.

"The shirt doesn't fit. No, no. The other one. Yeah, that one."

"Who cares if people say you aren't supposed to wear skirts? Your ass rocks better in those than mine. Just take them."

Personally likes dressing you up, doesn't like dressing you up for dates though. Still doesn't know why.

Gojou Satoru

God, the willpower you have to even tolerate this man is immense.

It's not hard to be his friend, all you have to do is do something that amuses him and he'll keep teasing you about it.

In this platonic relationship, you're the more calm one. People call you to take care of Gojou constantly, and you're the only one he allows to scold him.

He goes for missions half the time so it's rare to see you both go for outings. The most you've been together outside of Jujustu Tech and work hours was in a bar with Nanami (you both bond over the fact that Gojou is terrible to work with). He got too drunk and started slurring his words.

"Y/N~ stohp flirting with Nanamin and talk to meee," He whines, pinching your cheeks as you sigh.

"We are simply talking about your bad work habits, Satoru," Nanami answers whilst shaking his head, downing another drink before he gets up to leave. "I'll take him home, rest well Y/N."

"Noooo, I want Y/N!"

A needy best friend. Constantly asks for attention. If you ignored him, he would only make the situation slightly more annoying -- similar to Megumi's Y/N, the basic cheek poking and whining.

Your s/o would probably hate him, he's a bit too flirty and likes to hug you in public. People mistake you both for a couple rather than the s/o at hand. Don't be surprised if it's the main reason your relationships don't end well.

If you come to him upset because of them, he wouldn't waste a second to zoom to your shared apartment and 'deal' with the person. Would come back with a smile and some takoyaki. No blood on him since he used his infinity.

Parties are alright with him. He's the cool flirty dude everyone seems to fawn over. Would accompany you for half an hour, only to leave with another chick to a nearby bedroom. You never end up partying with him after opening the God forsaken door and he's never stopped trying to make it up to you.

Other than the traumatic event, he'd a bit of a douche but still tries to look for you in the crowd. He waves once he sees you and flashes a reassuring smile before continuing his talk with the others.

You don't share clothes with him simply because it's Gojou. Who knows when the last time he washed his clothes.

Though he's willing to share. You're just more reluctant, really. Finds it cute when his shirts are slightly bigger than you. If you're built bigger than he is, he would like how tight it looks on your body.

"Starting to think you look better in my clothes than I am. And that's a pretty good compliment." He grins.

Hates the fact you never take his compliments seriously. Says it from the bottom of his heart, he really thinks you're charming.

Ryomen Sukuna

God, was it hard trying to befriend this curse of a man. An asshole, he stuck his feet out to trip you over multiple times before cackling like a damned demon (which he is).

Though you're always genuine with him. You liked having conversations with him and listen to him boast about himself for hours. Guess that's when he saw you as a close acquaintance.

Would never tell you you're his best friend. Never. Not once. Him simply acknowledging you was enough for everyone to know he favored one person.

Being friends with Sukuna meant being friends Yuji. Itadori always apologizes on his behalf and you would always laugh, telling him it's alright. Sukuna gets annoyed by this though.

"Stupid human. Who do you think you are being all mush with this useless vessel of mine?" He sneered the second he could pop out. You shrugged, taking some popcorn to feed him.

"He's a pretty good guy. You should cut him some slack," You answered, stuffing some popcorn to your face as well

Will constantly threaten to kill you but you never paid heed. You know you're his only friend. You don't agree with his actions but you find the curse interesting.

Literally the only person who's allowed to tease him. You get away with things most curses would get killed from. You once hand him super hot sauce for his pancakes and he glared at you for the remainder of his time being conscious in Yuji's body. You found the plate broken with a fork stabbed through it.

You aren't allowed to go on outings with Sukuna (obviously) so you both spend your time within Yuji's room. Not allowed to go out since everyone'll freak out seeing Yuji with tattoos resembling the King of Curses.

"Humans are so boring," Sukuna groaned, his head on the bedstand. "All they do is just sit around doing nothing but scroll through their stupid boxes." You smiled at him.

"Not my fault you commit mass genocide for fun. I'd say we're pretty passive."

He would literally never care about your love life. Still has the old man mentality that romance meant sex and that was about it. If they were to meet, the curse would just roll his eyes and turn the other way.

Getting hurt by your s/o results to hurtful teasing and bloodshed. No in-between, no nothing. He wouldn't know how to comfort you properly so he'd send Yuji in his place. Would sit at the back of Yuji's mind getting pissed that he was hugging and rubbing your back gently as if he couldn't have done it himself (literally sent Yuji only to judge him).

Not allowed to go out so parties is also a no-go BUT since this is just a headcanon, let's imagine it's college AU.

College AU Sukuna would love parties -- he throws them, orders his friends to invite hot girls and frat guys. And invites you himself. No one would know you were friends since he never mentions it but will literally choke anyone who looks at you like you're a piece of candy.

Gets way too drunk and probably have railed 3 people to cloud 9 in a matter of 2 hours but still go out just to check up on you. He doesn't necessarily care but he hates having the sick feeling that you were in possible danger somewhere he wouldn't be able to see you.

Stare at you for a good 3 seconds before leaving you alone. You'd never know he was there.

Clothes! His clothes are Yuji's and he barely even keeps his shirts in tact. Does he care whether you wear it or not? No.

Is he pissed? Slightly.

This took me two days, I'm not sure if it sounds canon anymore. Anyways, thank you for reading!

♡︎ literate-simp

[judylicious]

And When He Smiles I Swear I Can’t Breathe

Alan Rubin x fem!Reader

Word count: 1,655

Fandom: Blues Brothers

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Blues Brothers characters or movies. This refers to Alan Rubin as a character in the movie, not the real Alan (although he obvsly played himself but you know what I mean)

I’d like to add that I made everyone of the band a few years younger (so the age gap between the reader and Alan isn’t that big), so he’s approx. in his early 30s.

Sophia & Lisa are two OCs created by two lovely people within the fandom.

Warnings: none

Chapter IV

A few days past and Sophia and Lisa had a hard time to get a hold of Charlotte. She barely was home and spent a lot of time in classes or in the College’s own library. Her plan was to keep herself distracted from thinking about Alan and also putting more effort into her studies had settled her parents in some way. At least they were asking less questions and leaving her alone for most of the time.

One day the two friends went by Charlotte’s home again, hoping she’d be there. And as she opened the front door, her friends were purely delighted to see her again. “Hey hun, we’ve been trying to reach out to you.” “Yeah I’m sorry, I was pretty busy studying. Please come in.” “You’re parents home?” “Nope, fortunately they’re not.” “We really have been worried about you.”, Sophia said and took a seat on the couch. “I know and I’m really sorry, I had some trouble with my dad and you know how I prefer to isolate when things become though.” “We’re always there for you.”, Lisa reassured Charlotte and they both sat down beside Sophia. “We are meeting the boys Friday night for a casual get together and thought it’d be lovely if you joined us.” “Just Lou and Jake?” “Yes exactly.”, Lisa replied to her. But Sophia shot the girl with the red hair a commanding eye. “A-and Alan.” “Well, to put things straight he said he’d be there if there was a chance of you being present.”, Sophia explained. “What? Girls this ain’t funny.”, Charlotte said and wanted to get up but her friends hold her in place. “The last times we met the boys he asked about you, wanted to know why you wasn’t with us.” “Alright don’t toy with me. The last time I saw him, he had some blonde woman in his arms.” “Look I don’t know who that woman was, perhaps we was unhappy with the situation between you two and was simply trying to distract himself.” “You know what men are like.”, Sophia also trying to comfort Charlotte. “He really asked about me?” “Yes, yes, he did! A few times actually!” And just the day before yesterday. I told you the very first night he’s crazy about you.” Charlotte needed a moment to think about it. “Well, okay, yeah, why not!” “Great, I can’t wait for the three of us back together, we really missed you.” Sophia gave her friend a tight hug. “If anything’s wrong, call us. Please.” She gave her friends a warm smile. “I will. Oh, Sophia before it forget… I hope you gave Jake an appropriate welcome the other night.”, Charlotte said with a whimsically grin. “Oh you bet I did. We didn’t even made it home without, you know. So finally my car’s inaugurated.”, Sophia boasted with a big laugh. “Woah remind me to never ride along in your car ever again.” “Well in that case you shouldn’t use my apartment’s door anymore either! Or sit on my sofa, my kitchen table-“ “Damn girl, I got you!”, causing the three girls to scream with laughter. “No seriously Jake’s a wild boy,  couldn’t wait for him being back but there’s no better feeling than falling asleep in his arms, cuddling into his chest.” “Well, we certainly are happy you got him back for now.” “Truth to be told you were pretty narky without him.”, Lisa rolled her eyes joking.

Until Friday there were going so many thoughts through Charlotte’s head and she constantly told herself not to get her hopes up again. Yes, he asked about her. But that didn’t mean anything necessarily. He still could be interested in a casual hook, especially after what Lou had told her. But tonight would give her a harmless opportunity to learn more about him and that “issue" without making a fool out of her by asking him out directly.

Charlotte picked out a nice dress and did her make up in front of the mirror, while dancing and singing along to one of the boy’s albums. When she was satisfied with her look, she grabbed her coat and jumped on to the next bus heading city centre. 

They agreed to meet at this little bar with live music, which especially gave young, newcomers of the rhythm and blues scene a chance to gain experience.

Sophia and Lisa waited for Charlotte in front of the bar. “Hiya girls, am I running late?” “No, not at all, the guys are already inside but we didn’t want you to walk in on your own.” They gave each other a hug before Charlotte went inside first. She let her gaze wander through the room and found Jake sitting at a table near the small stage where a young girl with a guitar was performing. Lou was walking towards the bar, where no less than Alan was sitting on one of the barstools, a lady leaning into him. She was tugging and fiddling with his shirt, his hands grabbing hers and the upper part of his black, silk shirt was unbuttoned, exposing his chest hair. Her face only inches away from his. And that was all Charlotte needed and wanted to see. She turned on her heel, squeezed past her friends and straight through the door. “Wait, Charlotte where’re you going?” Hearing her name, Alan looked to the door and saw a baffled Lisa and Sophia, who quickly noticed the woman that was almost on his lap by now and they gave each other a concerning look.

Lou carefully grabbed the woman, trying to pull her away from Alan. “Miss you’re drunk. You’re surely doing better if you go home.” “No, get your hands off of me. I’m in the middle of a conversation with this very handsome man, can’t you see?”, the woman slurred. “We’re not!”, Alan claimed. “I’m sorry but I already told you, I’m not interested.” “No, no, you gave me those eyes, I can always tell.”, the woman persisted. Luckily the bartender chipped in “Listen, Ma’am, we called you a taxi, it’s waiting outside and will bring you home. You are way to drunk to be in my bar and I won’t approve of you molesting other guest.” Jake started up from his chair and he and Lou both grabbed on arm of the lady, dragging her outside, placing her carefully in the car waiting outside. “Thanks guys.”, Alan thanked the two as soon as they got back in. He greeted Lisa and Sophia and they all took a seat at the table next to Elwood. Alan looked at the girls, “Charlotte, she…?” “Is probably home by now.”, Sophia finished for him. “There was nothing going on, SHE approached me, I wasn’t even interested.” , he tried to explain himself. “We know that, Charlie’s just… overreacting sometimes, when it comes to things like these.”, Sophia told him and Lisa felt the need to correct her, “she’s overcautious, that’s all.” The three musicians gave the girls a curious look. “Her ex cheated on her for quite some time. Problem was he was an employee of her dad, he introduced the two.” “Some young and rich wanna-be.”, Sophia added. “Everyone knew he wasn’t good for Charlotte but her dad thought so much of him it was hard for Charlotte to convince him otherwise. So she had a hard time when she was trying to break up with that guy. Her father simply didn’t let her and she had so stay with him.” “That’s shit, man.”, Lou mumbled. Alan looked taken aback. “She knows not every man is like him but if a guy she likes is surrounded by women every time, it scares her off.” “No chances for you then, Mr. Fabulous, huh?”, Jake joked and gave him a bump with his elbow and Alan said nothing but lowered his eyes. “I’m sure she will understand that she was wrong to judge the situation from what she saw only.”, Lisa said with a smile and laid her hand on Alan’s arm. Lou though quickly grabbed Lisa’s other hand and she understood that little hint by removing her hand from Alan’s arm causing him to chuckle about the cute couple next to him. 

For the rest of the night the four tried to cheer up the trumpet player but didn’t success. He had been looking forward to this evening so much. He understood that Charlotte was being cautious after what had happened with her ex but was as disappointed he didn’t even had proper chance yet to show her how much he liked her.

The next Monday afternoon Charlotte’s father got home excitedly. “Sylvia darling! We won the case against ‘Jones & Johnson’! They finally decided the verdict, what a triumph.”, he praised and gave his wife a big kiss. “We’re all going out for dinner, tonight. This calls for a celebration. Tell the girls to get ready and dress up!”

On schedule for their reservation the family got into their car. “You know I still think you and mum should enjoy this night on your own, you deserve some quality alone home.”, Charlotte tried to bluff it out. “Nonsense, you two are joining us.”, her dad told her. “What was that restaurant called again….?”, the youngest sister enquired. “Ugh, don’t even bother to tell us, I bet it’s just another snobby French place”, Charlotte snapped and laid her head against the window.

As they reached the posh restaurant, the bored girl ambled behind her parents, checking out the place. “Chez Paul.”, she mumbled the name of the place and scoffed. “Good evening, Sir, we have a reservation at 8, for Ellington.”. She heard her father say. “Of course, welcome at the Chez Paul, Mr. Ellington. Please this way.” And at the first word Charlotte had already recognised that voice. His voice. So soothing and sexy, like the melody of her favourite song.

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III

[crystxlclear]

sudden desire

chapter two: coffee times ten

part three of sudden desire

prologue / one / masterlist

in which two best friends won’t admit they’re in love so decide to have a baby together instead.

pairing: marcus pike x original female character

summary: coffee, coffee and more coffee. coraline ropes marcus into babysitting duties.

word count: 4.4k

warnings: the slightest smidge of angst? boyfriend material marcus (needs his own warning because he’s soft af), mentions of divorce? mentions of pregnancy? two idiots being domestic af without realising it. honestly i’m just pulling these warnings out of my ass idk what counts anymore

author’s note: sorry if there’s any errors, i’m honestly the world’s worst proofreader (last time i went to post this, there were still passages from when this wasn’t fanfiction and marcus was an actor like cora, cause that would have made total sense!) but also i get super hypercritical so it’s best if i just don’t read and reread my work oops... anyway, enjoy!

Monday morning comes and she’s wearing the dress that he likes. It's the yellow one she wore the day they met, the reason he calls her sunshine, and she smiles as she sweeps effortlessly into the coffee shop. Coraline pushes the sunglasses she's wearing up onto her head and greets him with a hug and a small 'hello' muffled against his shoulder. 

It's only January but the sun still seeps in too brightly through the shop's thatched windows; it casts her in a halo of gold as she sits in the armchair across from him. Even despite the warmth pooling in the air, he can tell she's still cold, from the way her shoulders shrink inwards and she wraps her arms around herself. If she is cold, she doesn't let him know, just takes a moment to run her hands up her arms before wrapping them around the mug of coffee he'd ordered her. He'd told her to go see someone about it — constant chills aren't exactly normal — but she'd refused, brushing off his concern with a simple shrug of her shoulders and an insistence that she'd be fine. She'd also pointed out that it was, in fact, January and it was meant to be cold, even if it wasn't. It still hasn't stopped him from worrying, though. 

"You left early last night." He points out. Last night, some high-end gallery opening in downtown D.C., too many cameras and far too many people. He’d invited her as his plus one, purely platonically, of course, and because he knew she was the only friend he had that liked art just as much as he did, though she hadn't wanted to go. He hadn't blamed her, especially when they’d got there; Coraline's ex, Scott, and his new girlfriend had shown up, apparently friends with the gallery owner, their hands a little too wandering. If his ex and their new partner showed up, flouting their relationship in front of him, he'd be pretty upset and reluctant to go, too. He’d managed to persuade her to come the night before, albeit through incessant nagging, so much so that he thinks she probably only relented to shut him up. Though, looking back at it now, he wishes they had just stayed at home.

Coraline hums into her coffee cup. Her brown hair still falls in loose, half-styled curls around her face; she tucks a little behind her ear. "I was tired. My bed was calling," she insists with a bright smile. 

He doesn't entirely believe her, even though she's a pretty great actress and, consequently, just as good at hiding how she really feels. Because he knows she saw them last night. It was hard not to; a cramped room like that gave you no place to hide, and they weren't exactly being subtle. He saw the way she'd shuffle uncomfortably then their laughter would filter through the quiet space, soft but still piercing. Marcus was convinced that they were doing it on purpose, especially when he caught Scott stealing glances from across the room whenever he thought no one was looking. He was trying to get a reaction and, being as graceful as she was, she hadn't given him that, even if she had spent the entire night with her brows furrowed and wearing a smile he could tell was fake.

He watches her curiously; the way she sips her coffee slowly, how her hair curls softly against her neck, the gentle curve of her pink lips that seems permenant around him. But he’s never been the most subtle, at least, not around her. She notices him staring, gaze lingering for far too long over the gentle contours of her face, and their eyes meet for a second; they're immediately lit by another even brighter smile that pulls across her glossed lips. "What?" She questions. Her cheeks always flush pink whenever he looks at her for longer than a moment. 

He shakes his head, returning her smile, perhaps a little too enthusiastically when his teeth peak through a little. "Nothing, I just-" I just want you to be happy, he thinks. But he doesn't say it, because she must know that already, and just shakes his head. "Nothing." He repeats. 

"You're staring."

"I am not."

"Yes, you are." She chuckles, poking his leg with the toe of her boot. “Why are you staring?”

"Cora, I'm not staring."

He is staring. He can't help it. Especially when she smiles. 

She regards him for a second. Sometimes, he wonders if she can read his mind, given the way her eyes trace over his face like she's reading a book. Truthfully, he wouldn’t mind if she did read his mind. "I'm fine." She answers the unspoken question lingering thick in the air. The real reason he's looking at her like he is. A laugh lilts at the edges of her insistence and he can tell that she's lying; there's a furrow pulling at her eyebrows that gives her away. He’s learned to look for it. "Why wouldn't I be?" She knows exactly why. But it seems like that's all they talk about, how she is. And she doesn't want to anymore. She's fine. 

Because your ex-husband spent the entire night trying to make you jealous, he wants to say. But he doesn't. He leaves it alone.

Marcus leant back in his chair. He doesn't push it. "No reason." 

Coraline peers at him over the top of her coffee cup — it's almost too big for her hands — but she doesn't press it further, even if she does raise her eyebrows a little. Or, at least, she doesn't get a chance too, because someone is calling out to her from across the coffee shop. "No reason." She repeats with a soft hum. 

She peels her eyes away from Marcus, almost like it's some great hardship to stop looking at him, and turns her smile towards whoever had called her name. He recognises her as Loren Hull, Coraline's childhood best friend, struggling to push through the door with a stroller, even as someone holds the door open for her and another helps her inside. 

Coraline watches with amusement as Loren teeters towards them. "How are you?" She asks as she hugs her. Her attention switches towards the gurgling baby in the stroller; she was chewing on a toy, far too preoccupied to pay attention to anything that was going on around her. That was until she catches sight of Coraline and cries out with glee. "And how's my favourite goddaughter?" She coos. 

Loren huffs out a groan. Her blonde hair is tied haphazardly on top of her head, curls spilling out at either side, falling into her face. There are dark circles beneath her green eyes. "She's great-" She grins down at her daughter for a moment before her head throws back. "But I'm exhausted." She's talking far too fast, the words falling from her mouth, in the same way, an almost nonsensical rambling might. It's almost like she thinks that, if she doesn't talk fast, she'll never be able to get the words out. "I can't stay long- oh, hey, Marcus-" It's like in her hurry and she hasn't noticed he's there until now. He doesn't blame her; Coraline has mentioned that she's still getting to grips with being a single mom. "-but I need coffee otherwise I'm going to pass out."

Coraline is grinning down at Loren's daughter, Maisie, whispering soft 'hello's at her, completely distracted by the baby who seemed just as captivated. The baby giggles and reaches for Cora's fingers, kicking her legs excitedly under the pink blanket. "I could look after her tonight if you need some rest." Her eyes don't leave Maisie, who's tiny fingers wrap tightly around Coraline's pointer finger. Half of him wonders if she'd actually meant to offer her help or if the whispers had come out before she had chance to think them through. 

"You could?" Loren's face lights up with relief. 

"Of course!" Cora's eyes come to rest on Marcus. "Would you mind?" 

"Not at all." He shoots her a smile. They're meant to be seeing a movie. It's some horror film he's never heard of; he isn't a massive fan of horror but Coraline had wanted to see it — it had something to do with her and her father watching horror films together when she was younger, even if they were terrible and laughably cheesy — and had managed to persuade him the night before at the gala, when they were both a little too tipsy and he was trying his best to distract her as Scott's lips dragged over his new girlfriend's neck. He'd glanced up every now and then, just to see if she was watching them. Luckily, she never was. 

"Oh, you're a lifesaver." Loren exhales, like she's been underwater for months and her head has only just poked above the surface. "Both of you." She turns to Marcus and flashes him a bright but exhausted smile. 

"What are best friend's for?" Cora chuckles as Loren pulls away to order her drink. "Drop her off later."

"I'll be by at seven," she announces as she grabs her drink, backing the stroller out of the coffee shop with decidedly more grace than when she'd entered. Patrons part the way for her and she murmurs a 'sorry' at everyone she passes or accidentally whacks with her nappy bag. 

Coraline's eyes linger on the baby for a few moments longer as they leave; her expression flickers, softening, like she's considering something, like she's plagued by conflict. Coraline taps her fingers on the table, perfect pale pink nails rapping a steady beat against the wood. Eventually, her eyebrows furrow and she draws back into herself, like realisation has hit and she's snapped herself back to reality. 

"Are you sure you don't mind? You can find something else to do, you don't have to become a pro bono babysitter with me." She wants him to help her out. She really does. She tries not to let the hopeful glint reach her eyes.

But she feels especially bad because Marcus rarely has days off. It's a rare Sunday when he's in between cases and hasn’t been dragged in on a weekend. And she's dragging him along to look after a baby he's never even met before. 

He shakes his head. "Why would I mind?" He gets to spend time with her. He enjoys her company too much to turn her down.

She shrugs and takes another sip of her drink. He can tell by the way that she scowls that it's gone a little cold. He doesn't know how she drinks it, anyway. There's too much caramel — it was far too sweet — but she seemed to like it and he'd seen her tired self go through three in an hour before. "Changing diapers isn't exactly a thrilling pastime."

"I'm sure I'll live."

Coraline pushes herself to her feet. A breeze ruffles the skirt of her dress, billowing the pale yellow fabric against her knees like it had a mind of its own. She finishes off the last drops of her drink and sighs. "Well, then, we’re going to need some more coffee."

...

Coraline has been rushing around her apartment for most of the day. She isn't sure if she's nervous or if she just has too much caffeine buzzing through her veins. Perhaps it's both. She's not even aware of her surroundings, only that Marcus has been sitting on the couch trying to get her to relax for the past hour and she's fussed meticulously over every square inch of her apartment at least three times. She just needs to keep her hands busy. 

"Cora, she's a baby." He chuckles as Coraline scowls at the magazines on the coffee table. She bends down to straighten them, huffing out an inpatient breath as she does so. "She's not going to care what your apartment looks like."

She ignores him, turning swiftly on her heels to straighten out the woollen throw draping over her couch. "Relax," Marcus insists. He watches her with concern as she pauses, sucks in a shallow breath and turns to slump down against the opposite end of the couch. Her head falls back against the cushions. "What's wrong?"

"It's just-" She doesn't even know what she means to say. She doesn't really have an explanation for it — why she's frantically rushing around her apartment trying to keep her mind off Maisie and the babysitting job she'd found herself — so she doesn't bother offering one. Maybe it's because all she can think about is how much she'd wanted a baby when she was with Scott and how she has no idea what she wants anymore, now that he's gone and she's alone again. Everything's so confusing now; she can barely bring herself to think about it. It just doesn't make sense. Coraline tells Marcus a lot of things (he probably knows more about her than Loren does, and they'd been best friends since they were six) but some things just weren't for sharing. Maybe he already knows. She hopes he does, it would make things much easier, and then she doesn’t have to bite back pointless tears when she eventually tells him. 

Coraline lets out an overly-dramatic sigh and turns her head towards Marcus. He's still watching her, brown eyes softer now. He smiles and she shakes her head to clear away the thoughts. "I'm glad you're here, you know," she admits. Her eyes drag back up to the ceiling. 

"Of course you are. You'd never survive without me." He quips. 

"Oh, sure. How I ever managed to live twenty-eight years without you, I'll never know."

Marcus' eyes crease at the corner as he laughs a little at his joke. "I know you'll be good at this whole baby thing." She lulls her head to the side to watch him; she shuffles against her hip, resting her cheek against the dimpled green couch cushion and watches him as his dark eyes light up. In the time that she's known him, barely even six months, though it seems like far longer, she can only think of a handful of times when she'd seen him without a smile. Even then, most of those were after a long day of paperwork, and she could usually make him smile after a few minutes of prodding at him to tell her what's wrong. 

"I have work early tomorrow." Coraline points out. "This was a bad idea. I should be sleeping."

"Well, you did offer.”

"I know, and it was a terrible idea." She sighs. "Y’know, I think Maisie hates me."

"Maisie is a baby, Cora."

"Babies still have feelings, Marcus."

He chuckles. "She loves you, don't be ridiculous."

His words are punctuated by a knock on the door. It's almost frantic, like whoever's on the other side's intentions are urgent. Coraline groans a little as she stands up; she knows exactly who it is and she drags her feet towards the door, trying her best to push past her concern. She lowers her head to the door's peephole before yanking it open. She has a wide grin on her face when she greets Loren and Maisie. "Good evening." Her voice is lilting, soft and bright and cheerful, like Marcus is used to hearing. It makes him smile, the way she's gone from a worry that seemed to be spreading rapidly through her back to her bright self. He's never seen her so panicked, even around her ex; she's normally so laid back and relaxed. 

Coraline pulls the door open a little further before sweeping Maisie and her stroller inside. Loren murmurs that she's asleep and Cora starts to rock the stroller back and forth, trying her best to keep the baby asleep for as long as she can. It gave her time to regain her scattered composure. Marcus pushes himself up from the armchair he'd been reclined in and sweeps over to take Maisie from Coraline and away from the entryway. 

"Oh-" It startles her a little, when his hands reach out and fingers accidentally brush over her wrist. "Thank you." She smiles at him softly as he backs the stroller out into the living room. 

"Marcus is here?" Loren's eyes light up and a grin pulls at her lips when he falls out of earshot. Her eyebrows raise playfully. 

"Yes."

Her grin only widens. "Are you on a date?"

"No." Coraline scoffs. 

Loren doesn't seem to be giving up and she certainly doesn't believe her. She never does, not usually. She seems to have convinced herself that Cora and Marcus are in love or secretly dating, or both. "This is a date, isn't it?"

"It's not a date, Loren." Cora rolls her eyes but she can't help but smile. She tried to conceal it but she can't stifle the way her corners quirk upwards. It's most definitely not a date — that had ever even crossed her mind — and it's just hilarious how Loren seems to be convinced that her oldest friend is harbouring a secret affection for her best friend. She looks between them both with a glint in her blue eyes, like she knows something they don't and she's just waiting for them to figure it out. Except there’s nothing to figure out. They’re friends. Just friends.

"Whatever you say.” She giggles. Loren smiles back at Marcus, who's stood back by the couch, rocking the stroller back and forth. Coraline follows her gaze and smiles fondly at him; he's not paying attention to them and he doesn't notice the way they're both watching him. 

"We're just friends," Coraline insists again as she turns back to Loren. 

"Sure you are." She smirks. ”I promise I won’t say ‘I told you so’.”

"Just go." Coraline takes her best friend by the shoulders and guides her back out of the door but she can't help the smile that spills onto her lips again. 

"Can I be your maid of honour?"

"Go home and sleep!" 

"Please!"

"I'm shutting the door now, goodbye."

"There are diapers in the bag and she's already been fed," Loren adds hastily as Coraline inched the door shut. "I'll be back in a few hours."

...

Maisie slept for a little while, but now she's wide awake, giggling and trying her best to grab Coraline's curls. The baby sits on Cora's lap, small fingers reaching out towards her insistently. She'd offer her one of the toys Loren had left for her but she only seems interested in them for a few seconds before Coraline's hair tumbles over her shoulder and she grows distracted again. 

She's torn between tying her hair up or just letting Maisie tug on it to her heart's content. But she doesn't; she just lightly whispers no with a shake of her head, a smile and a shake of whatever toy she reaches for first. And it's a never-ending cycle until finally, Maisie decides that hair isn't for her and she prefers the blue teething ring that Coraline reaches for last.

"You really are great with her,” Marcus comments. 

She chuckles, a breathy laugh through her nose. "I'm great with everyone." She pokes her tongue at the corner of her lip and grins. He notices, when she does that, says something about herself being great or that she's good at something, her cheeks flush pink a little. She only means it as a joke, he knows that, but it's almost like it embarrasses her to say or think anything like that. Her eyes betray the way she struggles with it. 

"I have nephews." She shrugs. "I was a great babysitter back in the day."

Maisie makes a gleeful noise, halfway between a squeal and a laugh, and drops the teething ring to the sofa, disinterested. She makes a grab for Coraline's hair again, reaching forward to try and swipe it between her fingers. But Cora's own fingers block her clutches. "No," she whispers quietly with a smile and a chuckle. She pushes her small hand away gently but Maisie delights in it, face illuminating in a grin, and reaches out for Coraline’s curls insistently. 

Marcus reaches down to pick up the toy as Coraline laughs, too distracted to even bother. His arm brushes hers as he does so. She's always struck by how warm he is. The first time she'd noticed it, the day they'd first met, she thought it was because of the sun streaming in through the briefing room’s glass windows. But she’d noticed it every single time he’d touched her since — even just the slightest touch or brush of a hand — until she thinks she’s used to it. She isn’t. His touch warms whatever bare skin it touches immediately and she shudders; Marcus doesn't seem to notice and she's glad because she doesn't want to explain that one fleeting touch from him warms up her entire, otherwise freezing, body.

It's a cliche, she knows that. The kind of cliche you read about in cheesy romance novels. It makes her cheeks burn — Coraline knows she's going bright red; she can feel it crawling slowly over her skin and she shivers like there's a cold breeze dancing it's way up the back of her neck — because she doesn't know what it means. She's never really felt it before she met him, this odd, confusing burn that started in her chest, then blooms out like flowers through her whole body. She usually just brushes it off because it happens whenever and wherever, without warning It just arrives out of the blue, triggered by a glance or a laugh or the briefest touch of a hand. It's ridiculous but she can't help but turn it over and over and over in her mind at night, when she tries to sleep, until she's restless and staring at the wooden beams that stretch across her bedroom ceiling. 

"Do you want kids?" Coraline asks. It’s out of the blue. Her expression almost makes it seem like she wants him to ask her the question, like she's desperate to talk about it with someone, anyone, before it bursts from her chest. Although, he can't help but wonder if she never meant to ask, or if she regrets asking, given the way her eyes fall back to Maisie who's resumed her chewing on the teething ring again. Though, Coraline barely realises she's given anything away. Then again, she doesn't even realise that there is anything to give away. She's so enchanted by the baby and the brush of Marcus' arm against hers that she's giving away maybe a little more than she intends. It's strange to see her like this given her flustered panic of just an hour earlier. 

Marcus takes a moment, a pause to figure out the right answer, then he nods a little. "I would, yes. Some day." He pauses for another second, watching the way her eyes glimmer as she looks at her goddaughter. He already knows her answer before he even asks the question. Or, at least, the real answer. "Do you?"

Coraline's eyes light up; her blue eyes look like the sky on a sunny day. "Maybe," she hums. When she looks up to meet his eyes, the small smile she gives betrays the truth. But she cuts it off like it's wrong or forbidden or downright ridiculous, like she shouldn't feel those things. He notices the way her lips falter like she's biting back the urge to say something, a secret on the tip of her tongue, and how she tugs her lower lip in between her teeth to stop her from smiling again. 

He thinks he knows what makes her so unsure about that. Why she cuts herself off and seems to tell herself it's wrong. She's mentioned it once before, when she was tired — she talks a lot when she's tired, but it's mostly incoherent mumblings that he has to admit, he finds adorable — that Scott didn't want kids. Marcus has never brought up what she’d told him (if she really wants him to know, she'd have told him by now, when she's completely coherent and conscious) but it tugs at the edge of his thoughts as her sentences go quiet when she sees a mother and their baby. They make her smile fondly. It's a smile that's been all-too-lacking since her divorce. 

He understands. It’s happened to him before, twice now. Twice he’s faced heartbreak, that horrible moment when things go sour. When you’re left with a million little ‘what ifs’, wondering where exactly things went so wrong. Wondering if there was anything you could have done, anything at all, to make things better. It’s a dull ache that sits deep in his chest. And it’s agonising. He hates how familiar the feeling has become. 

Marcus has never told her about his past relationships - about his first marriage and eventual divorce, about his last engagement and how it had ended almost as quickly as it had begun, how he’d found himself alone in D.C. without a soul in the world to talk to - and he also hasn’t told her that meeting her was like a fresh start, like the sun had finally peaked through the rain clouds that had hung over his head for so long. She’d helped him settle, finally, even after six months struggling to feel at home in a new, lonely city. She’d welcomed him, helped him find new friends, and stuck by him the entire time. She doesn’t have to be his friend; he’s sure she has much cooler, younger friends that don’t spend most of their days hunched over an ever-growing mountain of paperwork or hidden away inside some tiny downtown art gallery. Sure, he’d be upset if their weekly meetings came to a halt, but he wouldn’t blame her if she chose someone more like herself over him.

Mostly, Marcus just hadn't wanted to dredge up old feelings, not when she was in the thick of a divorce and clearly struggling, no matter how much she pretended she was okay. So he never told her what had happened. When she'd confided in him for the first time those few short months ago, spilling her deepest secrets, staying up until 3am just pouring her heart out to him over the phone, he'd wondered if it was best to tell her. To let her know that he knew how she felt, that he understood. But he still hasn't. She’s asked about his past before, nagging until he relented and revealed things he's never really had much trouble revealing before, and he has told her parts of it. But he usually skirts around the details, like there's nothing important to reveal. He isn't sure why he does it, especially when she opens up to him so easily. He guesses that the moment has never seemed right. 

Maisie's hand is twisted into the fabric of Coraline's dress. She shakes the teething ring in her hands like it's a rattle. "I've never had the chance," she admits, suddenly. "To have kids."

"You've still got time."

"Barely." She sighs. He raises an eyebrow, like he's asking her what she means, but she doesn't continue. She waves a hand and brushes off his concern. "It's not important," she insists. 

But it is important. He knows it is. And, if it matters to her, it matters to him.

[missmentelle]

Hey what are some signs a person likes the idea of you/has idealisation versus actually wants to be with you? Thanks ❤️😔

Hey, that’s a great question, and I think it’s important to start by defining what it means for someone to only “love the idea” of you.  A person who genuinely loves you “for you” is a person who loves you specifically, for your individual traits - they spent time getting to know you and building a relationship with you, and figuring out if the two of you are compatible. They understand that the relationship they have with you is different than the relationship that they might have had with their exes, because you are your own unique person, and if their relationship with you was to end for some reason, it would probably take them a long time to get over it. 

A person who loves the idea of you, on the other hand, is actually in a long-term relationship with the imaginary ideal partner that they’ve created in their head - you are just the closest stand-in for that person that they could find. They have idealistic and often incredibly specific fantasies about the relationship that they want, and they are mostly in love with the idea of being in that perfect relationship - whether it’s with you or someone else doesn’t really matter to them. When you inevitably fail to live up to their impossible expectations and the relationship ends, they tend to move on to the next partner quickly - their emotional attachment was always to the ‘perfect partner’ that they imagined in their head, not to you, and they will quickly set out to find the next person to fill that role. 

It can be hard to tell if your partner “just likes the idea of you” when you’re actually in the thick of the relationship. These kinds of relationships tend to be intense, ‘whirlwind’ romances. But there are some big signs that you can look for, like:

They don’t seem to know you very well. Even if you’ve been together a long time, your partner just doesn’t seem to know you that well, and doesn’t know much about you. They would struggle to pick out a movie, meal or date night idea that you would enjoy, and probably can’t make an accurate list of your likes, dislikes and hobbies. This is probably most obvious when they buy you gifts - the things they get you are either incredibly generic (flowers, candy, etc) or so wildly unsuitable for you that anyone who knows you would never buy it for you (eg. a box of fancy teas when you’ve made it known that you don’t drink tea, earrings when you don’t have pierced ears, etc). They seem genuinely baffled whenever you point out that the gift/date/movie they’ve selected is way off the mark, and there doesn’t seem to be anything you can do to make them understand who you are as a person. 

They try to rush the relationship. Your partner pushed for the relationship to get serious - having sex, moving in together, getting engaged, etc - at a much faster pace than usual. They decided very quickly after you started dating that the relationship was “meant to be” or “meant to last” and made it very clear that they were strongly invested in the relationship, even if you’d only known each other a few weeks. They may have thrown around words like “soulmate”, “forever” or “love of my life” early on in the relationship, and may have taken any attempt to slow the relationship down as a personal attack or a sign that you didn’t really love them. You’re a stand-in for a imaginary person that they’ve always dreamed of - they see no point in slowing things down, because they think they already know everything they need to know about you. 

They have no patience for imperfection. Your partner is great when everything is going well, but the moment there’s any kind of conflict, they shut down. They just don’t seem interested or capable of dealing with the daily realities of having a long-term relationship with another person (dealing with finances, life stressors, bad days, arguing over chores, health scares, etc) - they want all of the good parts of the relationship, and none of the bad. A person who loves the idea of you is expecting an effortless, fairytale romance that doesn’t actually place a lot of demands on them as a partner - their ideal partner is usually someone who accommodates all of their moods and flaws without complaint, and expects very little in return. Alternatively, they may be happiest when you’re a completely helpless partner - they might envision themselves as the selfless caretaker of a partner who is completely dependent on them, and feel threatened any time you show signs of independence. 

You feel like they’re trying to “mold” you or “train” you to be a certain way. You get the sense that your partner is trying to nudge you toward being more of the person that they want you to be, whether they are subtle about it or not. They discourage you from pursuing things that they don’t want you pursuing, and offer huge amounts of encouragement when you do things that they approve of. They may even go so far as to buy you clothes they want you to wear, sign you up for hobbies they want you to have, and sabotage the things they don’t want you pursuing. A partner who wants to turn you into a traditional homemaker, for instance, may constantly buy you dresses and skirts (even if you’re strictly a jeans and t-shirt person), encourage you to quit your job/school every time you get stressed out about it, and go on and on about how much they like home-cooked meals to encourage you to do it more often. 

Your feelings don’t matter to them. When you call them out on something crappy they did to you, their pain at being called out vastly eclipses your pain at being mistreated by your partner. Their feelings always take center stage. Your feelings are sidelined. Their vision of what they want for their life and how they feel about their life is all that matters, and you are treated as an inconvenience for daring to even have feelings of your own. 

They are fixated on superficial aspects of your appearance or lifestyle. They obsess over specific, superficial things about you - like your tattoos, your motorcycle, or the fact that you’re in a band - to the point that it almost feels like that’s the only reason they’re even dating you. You can’t confidently say that the relationship would survive if you changed this aspect of your life or appearance. This is especially common if you belong to a niche subculture, have a “cool” job, or if you’re someone that could be construed as a “manic pixie dream girl”.

Their image of you doesn’t match reality. Your partner proudly tells people that you’re a huge geek, even though you didn’t care for Star Wars and you only go to conventions because they drag you along. Or they tell people that you’re a musician, when your band is really just a side hobby that you were never serious about, and you’re actually much prouder of your day job. Your partner constantly presents you in a much different light than any of your friends or family would, and the way they think of you doesn’t at all seem to match how you think of yourself. 

They are obsessed with the relationship itself. Most of your conversations are how much you love each other and miss each other and how great you are together - you don’t actually talk about anything most of the time. They don’t send you articles or ask your opinion of current events or tell you funny stories about what happened at work that day or debate you about your favourite Avenger - they mostly want to talk about the relationship itself, having the same kinds of shallow “I love you so much” conversations over and over again. They aren’t really interested in hearing your thoughts or opinions - they just want to constantly reaffirm the relationship. 

They have very childish ideas about relationships. Most of what they know about relationships seems to have been ripped right out of a Disney movie or a bad romantic comedy. If they screw up, you’re expected to forgive them as soon as they’ve apologized or given you an apology gift - the idea that you might need some time to think about the relationship and that it might take a while for them to fully regain your trust is completely foreign to them. Relationships to them are about grand gestures and grand statements of love; the idea that they need to actually be there for someone on a daily basis is lost on them. 

They are enormously self-centered. They are the star of the show, and you are a side character - never the other way around. Everything revolves around them and their life; they never stop to consider the way that their actions impact others, even their partner, and they certainly don’t spend a lot of time reflecting on their actions or trying to be a better person. Everything is about what they want and what works for them - and if you aren’t living up to the expectations they have in their head, you’ll find that they don’t feel bad about replacing you. 

You might notice that a lot of warning signs for a partner who only loves the idea of you are very similar to the warning signs of an abusive partner. That’s not a coincidence - this is one of the mindsets that underlies abuse. While not every partner who loves the idea of you will be abusive - some are just the sort of over-idealistic people who saw Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and went out to find a Manic Pixie Dream Girl because they completely missed its core message -  many abusers do reach the point of the abuse because they can’t reconcile the fact that they’re in love with an ideal partner who doesn’t exist, and not an actual person. 

This is why abusive relationships so often start out as intense, whirlwind romances - the abusive partner has a vision in their head of the perfect partner that they are “owed”, and when they first meet you, they’re elated that they finally found that person. Then over time, you reveal that you aren’t actually the picture-perfect fantasy person who would fix their whole life, but a real person, with faults and flaws and quirks like anyone else. And they feel like they’re losing the wonderful person they were promised. So they try to control you and force you back into being that person, and when it doesn’t work, they get angry. They feel like they’ve been cheated out of the relationship that they deserve, and they blame you. In their minds, they know what’s best for both of you, and the two of you could be happy except that you keep defying them and you just won’t listen. The divide between “the partner I dream of” and “the partner I have” can be deadly, and being in a relationship with a person who has this mindset can be an incredibly dangerous thing.  MM

[svtscutie]

The Dating Form: #6

__ y/n's pov _____________________________

"Y/N"

I know that voice. I know that voice a bit too well. Jihoon.

I turn around and see him, he's holding flowers...my favorite, red carnations.

__ Jihoon's flashback _____________________

"Why are red carnations your favourite?" I ask Y/N as she brings the carnation over. She just got it from a street vendor as we are on one of our usual late night street walks. I couldn't get inspired to work and Y/N being great girlfriend she is, took me out of the studio.

"because one, no thorns so they're not as dangerous" she responds and I chuckle. Of course, it'd be something like that.

"but two, no matter the shade of red, it shows you admire the person" she adds. She passes the carnation towards me. What's this supposed to mean?

"This is for you, the carnation should show you... I feel something special for you" Y/N says, quietly. Shyly, even. It takes so much courage to just say it honestly like that. Wow, what a woman standing in front of me.

I lean in to kiss her and she closes the gap, our lips meeting. I don't deserve her. She puts everything on hold for me. She pulls away, n-

"Jihoon...why are you crying? What's wrong?" She asks me. I touch my face and feel the teardrops. Am I actually crying over her?

"You don't need to tell me, I trust you" she says and adds "I love you". She hugs me tightly and I hug her back. I couldn't say it back. I know we won't last. She has her goals in life and I have mine. And my goals always get in the way. I don't think I can allow her to sacrifice any more for this relationship. Not for me.

She gave up her late night parties with friends, her movie nights with Seungkwan, her stable bond with her brother, all for me. And I never give her anything back.

I don't deserve her. Everyone says so. Maybe they're right. What have I done for her?

__ y/n's pov _____________________________

"...how did you know I'd be here?" I say.

I'm in shock, it's an unfamiliar sight. When has he ever done this for me? He hasn't done this for me. Ever. He never had time to surprise me with flowers, let alone show up where I was when I least expected it.

"I still follow you on social media..." He says and I nod. I unfollowed him but that doesn't mean he unfollowed me back. Makes sense.

What doesn't make sense is the fact that he's here? Why did he feel the need to talk to me? We haven't spoken since we broke up. I told him I didn't want to be friends until I was over him.

"I also needed to drop off some new tracks to get produced into mixtapes" he adds. There we go, back to his focus on music. That sounds more like him.

The silence is hitting us both, both of us being very awkward and not knowing what to say. I know he's thinking about something. I just wish I could read his mind.

"These are for you, by the way" Jihoon says, passing me the flowers. I take them in my hand and put them next to the pile of cds I had next to me.

"Thank you, you didn't need to, we're not together anymore" I say. It takes all the strength I have to utter those last couple of words but I knew it's the truth.

He looks down at me and nods.

"I hope we could be friends though... I've missed you" he admits.

"I've missed you too, but... honestly..I'm happy, I finally went to those parties I've been meaning to go to. Seungkwan and I have been hanging out more. My brother and I can actually talk without us getting angry at each other. I've gotten to do what I've been wanting to do without hesitation. It's been nice" I say and something in him changes. That calm demeanor has changed, he's staring at me intensely. Maybe I should've said things nicely. I thought I did say things nicely.

"Like selling yourself out to go on dates"

He did not say that.

How dare he says that?

How does he know about that?

"You and I both know that I don't need to do that. Is that why you're here? Cause you're afraid I've moved on" I say, knowing it'll bite back. Jihoon always knew what to say to get me to admit defeat.

He faces away from me.

"Tha-"

"Maybe you should leave her alone" a person butts in and we both turn to face him. This person looks familiar.

"This is none of your business" Jihoon says, instantly biting back.

"You've obviously pissed her off with that comment and I'd rather not hear bickering while I'm trying to listen to music" he says.

"Please, let this go" I say and Jihoon's face softens.

That's different.

He calmed down just like that.

What's going on with him?

"I'm sorry" he whispers and leaves the store.

What is up with him? Why is he acting like this? What is going on? What does he want from me? Why is this so confusing?

I look at the helpful stranger again, he's calmly listening to songs from the students. Oh that's awkward, that cd was Jihoon's. He just told Jihoon off two seconds ago when he's trying to listen to his songs. Should I say something?

Surely a thank you from me isn't weird, right?

"Thank you for that" I say and he smiles at me. Okay yep, not weird, cool.

"No problem, it sounded rough" He says and adds "I've seen you in my classes so I felt like I should help out".

I don't have a clue of where I've seen him before. Like the face is familiar but I don't know where.

"I'm Vernon by the way" He says, offering his hand and I shake it. "Y/N" I respond back.

He dresses up nicely, chill and casual but still makes himself really good looking. He's honestly kind of cute, in his own way. Maybe I'm just interested cause he stood up for me. Or maybe he is just really cute.

Oh my god woman, make up your mind.

I begin to pick up my cd's and I hear a comment "wait, you listen to 88rising?"

Oh, okay so cute and has good music taste. I can roll with this. Maybe I won't need that dating form after all.

"Who doesn't?" I say and he laughs.

"None of my friends have heard of any of the artists" he responds.

NO.

WAY.

"But their music is soooo good" I say and he nods, enthusiastically.

"Legittt, what's your favorite song by the whole group?" He asks.

"Favorite song from the Head in the Clouds albums would be 'I Want In' and then just from the artists' works is 'I Like You' by Niki" I respond, he nods.

"'I Want In' is such a vibe, I'm more of 'Nothing Wrong' type of guy though and favorite from artists' works is 'Slow Dancing in the Dark' by Joji" he says.

Yo, those two song choices are like polar opposites. Like one's so hype and one's sad boy hours.

"Oh my god, Slow Dancing in the Dark makes me want to cry at all times" I say and he laughs at me.

"Top tier in your feels songs for sure" he says and then asks "Do you have the economics tutorial at 3?". I nod.

I wonder what he's trying to do with this information.

"Yeah, I do" I say and he asks "want to discuss music before the class?".

"Let's do it!"

—–

Day Two: #6

[masterlist]

—–

6 months after a breakup, a girl asks for some spice in her life. What she didn’t expect was a dating form being posted in honor of her. Multiple love interests, a regretful ex, a nosy brother and his friend and the college life ensures that the spice level is 1,000,000 on the Scoville Rating.

—–

A/N: So, what's our thoughts people? Do we feel sorry for Jihoon or no? Also Y/N and Vernon? Is that a vibe? (Or any of the characters actually?)

Has anyone filled out a dating form? Or have seen one? My university has an unofficial Facebook page where they upload dating forms (it’s more like hookup forms), hence where this idea came from. I don’t know if this is a common concept in everyone’s university though.

also yes check out 88rising hehe

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #381

“don’t try to be the one person who has stayed just to say they never left me”

Do you feel bored with your life? Always. Do you miss anyone who was mean to you in the past? I sometimes miss Colleen, but I know it's for the better that we no longer associate with each other. What’s the most weight you’ve ever gained from a medication? I don't know, but a fuck of a lot. Thanks, Abilify. Have you ever been suicidal? Yes. Do you pray? If yes, to whom? No. What do you miss about high school? Memories with Jason. What do you miss the most about college? Socializing. What was the best date you’ve ever been on? A triple date to an arcade w/ Jason and friends. What’s the last great song you discovered? The most recent one? I don't know, really. Do you feel free to post how you feel on Facebook? Yeah. Don't like what I post, delete me. Have you ever done cocaine? Yikes, no thanks. Do you think you’ll ever get married? Do you want to? I sometimes wonder if I ever will. I'm scared of just continuing to be an unemployed leech that is doing nothing significant with her life, in which case it's like, why even be with me romantically. I feel like such a dead end street. I want to get married someday. Who do you care about the most? When it comes down to it, probably my mom. Have you ever made out on a couch? Yeah. Would you ever get gauged ears? I want small gauges, actually. When it comes to clothing, are you the conservative type? Yes, because I hate my body and don't want others to see it. Do you enjoy eating? I wish I didn't. Have you ever ridden in a race car? No. Do you go out of your way to impress the opposite gender? No. Do you enjoy history? Not really, no. It bores me. Are you a pajama person or do you stay dressed all day? I'm just about always in my pjs. Do you value looks or personality more? Personality is way more important. Have you ever changed religions? Yeah. Born Roman Catholic, converted to Christianity when I further understood the differences, then I went to how I am now: I believe in something(s), but I don't quite know what. I wouldn't call myself a Neo-Pagan, but it's what I relate most to. Would you ever wear fake eyelashes? I would for like, my wedding. Foo fighters vs. Red Hot Chili Peppers: I'm actually not a big fan of either. Are you a fan of the SAW movies? I don't really watch them. Do you ever forget how old your siblings are? My two immediate sisters, I'm sometimes a year off. All my others, yes. :x Mountain Dew or Sprite? Mountain Dew, of course. I really don't like Sprite now, which is ironic because as a kid, it was my favorite soda. Could you ever give yourself a shot? Yeah. Have you ever worked as a cashier? That was one of my duties when I worked at a dollar store. If you are on birth control that allows you take pills and skip your period, how often do you opt to skip it? How come? My birth control doesn't allow me to skip, but rather, it regulates it. Is there a book series where you loved the first book, but for some reason the other books in the series just didn’t measure up? I can't say that, no, as most series I just kinda fell out of, like The Hunger Games. LOVED the first book, started the second, and even though I was enjoying it, I just stopped for some reason? Are there any stores/restaurants that you would like to shop/eat at, but there aren’t any located near enough to you? Haha yeah, like lots of west coast fast food places like Jack n' the Box or however it's formatted. If you were told by a professional that you were unable to become pregnant, how would that affect you? Is there something important to you about conceiving a biological child rather than adoption? And finally, if you even want to have children, would you choose adoption or surrogacy or would you go on childless? I don't even want kids, so honestly, I'd be stoked if I learned I was infertile. Wouldn't need to worry about the chance of getting pregnant and facing an abortion dilemma. Is there something that you did not used to take seriously, that you either now take seriously or wish that you had in the past (e.g., a relationship that you miss, your education, etc.)? Hm. I don't know. Are there any subjects that you are interested in so much that you would read whole books or academic journals about them? Meerkats, especially. I will read EVERY scientific article about them I find. Are you physically affectionate with your friends? I'm a hugger. When you were in middle school and high school, did you witness a lot of bullying? How did the teachers react to name-calling or violence? Not really, thankfully. Are any of your friends/relatives actually impressive artists or writers? Are you willing to share an example of their work? Yeah. I have a cousin who's really good at drawing, and my sister is a wonderful cake decorator. Do you drink more apple or orange juice? Orange. Could you forgive your best friend for sleeping with your gf/bf? My hypothetical bf/gf, no. Would you ever donate blood? I have before, and I would again if I knew I was hydrated enough and the opportunity was right there. Would you rather drink coffee or tea? Ugh, neither. Do you get easily embarrassed? YES. How long was your longest make out? TMI alert, like all night. If the person who hurt you most said they’re sorry would you believe them? I honestly don't know. Do you have sensitive skin? Very. What color is your mum's car? White. Do you live in an apartment? No. Do you have a pet fish? Nope. Are you happy with your eye color? I wish they were a more sapphire blue. Solid soap bar or liquid body wash? Absolutely liquid body wash. What color do you want your dream car to be? Baby pink. *-* Do you have more then one favorite band? I say I do, but at the same time I know Ozzy Osbourne will ALWAYS be #1. Do you prefer being single or in a relationship? In a relationship. But it's absolutely not something I'm about to force just for the sake of being in one. Would you be really upset if Facebook ceased to exist tomorrow? Nah. Have you or would you try shark meat? No to both. Do you know anyone that's pescatarian? No. Someone I watch on YouTube is, though. Are you shy or over confident around your crushes? Super shy. Do you think the govt. has a cure for cancer, but is hiding it from public? Hell, I think it's very well possible, but I lean more towards for financial hoarding, they simply don't further pursue potential cures that are discovered. I mean, just THINK about all the "future cures" you've read or heard about. It's fucking outrageous. It's all to fuel the medical industry. Okay, tin hat coming off. Last time you drank a diet soda? A very long time ago, because diet soda gives me a massive headache. Was your ex born in America? Only one wasn't. Name your favorite type of music and why. Metal. I for one just like the sound, and I find it very therapeutic when I'm especially mad or sad. Even when I'm in a good mood, I just enjoy it. I also feel that a lot of metal songs tell interesting stories and/or have very poetic lyrics. Do you own or have you read, or thought of reading any self-help books? I haven't, but I've considered it. Can you breakdance? Definitely not. Have you ever read a book and not understood it? If so which one? Yes. We were assigned this one war novel in middle school that was FUCKING AWFUL, like I was checked out the whole time. I don't remember its name or anything. Have you ever watched a movie and not understood it? If so which one? Yes; the Warcraft movie I mentioned in a recent survey. Orcs and their fucking deep-ass voice that I couldn't understand. Do you blowdry your hair? No. Tell me about your dream last night. Omfgggggg y'all. So, there's one invert pet that I've never understood the keeping appeal of, and that's giant centipedes. Their bites are notoriously excruciating, and they are just SO goddamn fast. Well, for some godforsaken reason, I wanted one as a pet. Got one, and it immediately got loose. Guess who wanted to shit herself lmao. Centipedes are very cool, but only from a distance, ya feel? Have you ever stayed in a fancy high-class rich hotel? No. Have you ever stayed in a rent-by-the-hour motel? I don't think so. Describe the worst fight you’ve ever been in whether physical or verbal. I'm not entirely sure about my *worst*, but I know it was with Mom. We've had a few. Have you heated any food in your microwave today? Yeah, a shrimp alfredo Lean Cuisine bowl. Do you own any items of clothing with cartoon characters on them? Yes. Have you ever played Animal Crossing? No, it doesn't seem like my kinda game. Do you own anything (e.g jewelry, accessories) with your initial on it? Yes, but none of which I personally bought because I don't really like them. Do you own any cats or dogs? What are their names? I have a cat named Roman. <3 Have you added any books to your shelves lately? Which? No. Have you bought any new cosmetics or toiletries lately? Which? No. Do your pets have a specific type of food that they prefer? Roman will eat whatever cat food he's given, while Venus, like your average ball python, is a picky eater. Like when I first got her, she wouldn't eat for almost a year because I just couldn't find a method through which she'd accept food. Now she consistently takes frozen/thawed small rats that have actually sat in warm water (versus doing it by hand under running water), and she generally won't strike it unless it's offered to her by tongs, but not dangling by the tail. Picky, picky miss thang. What's your favourite variety of apple? I'm not very particular about flavor so long as the apple is crisp. I canNOT do soft apples. Which of your physical features do you receive the most compliments about? My hair.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

lover series - i forgot that you existed

Pairing: Chris Beck x Reader

Warning: mentions of heartbreak

A/N: i’m not entirely sure what to write for my new multiple chapter fanfic i have quite a few ideas and i’m loving the character ideas you’re sending. until i decide which idea to go with, i decided to do something I’ve always wanted to do which is write a little drabble for various sebastian stan characters based on the songs present within taylor swift’s masterpiece, lover. if you have not heard the album here’s the spotify link. i hope you guys enjoy it xx  

Chris was hopelessly, stupidly in love with his best friend, Y/N. He had met her during their freshers week, sat at at pub table along with her flatmates looking the most bored someone could look at a pub. He still remembered how she looked on that day, with her beautiful hair let down instead of the upwards hairstyle she always used during class and a loose red dress, no makeup, staring at the pint in front of her. Chris could help stuck up a conversation with her and from that moment on they became inseparable. 

They were even on the same course, so he saw her every single day in lectures with her cup of green tea and laptop. It hadn’t taken any longer for Martinez and Watney to realise Chris followed Y/N around like a lost puppy. Watney had even tried to get Chris to ask Y/N out, however his hopes were crashed when Beth and Melissa, Y/N’s flatmates, warned him that Y/N was closed off dating.

What they had told Chris was that Y/N was still recovering from a pretty bad breakup she went through the summer before university started. Ever since Y/N spent her days thinking about how Dave, as Chris, Watney and Martinez had named him due to not knowing his name, did her wrong and how she’d rather be a successful student than ever be heartbroken again.

She had sworn off dating and she was not gonna date again. Trust, Chris knew she was really off dating, whenever they went out for drinks or to the movies, every guy would hit on her and she would rebuff him in such a fashion that Watney had dubbed her to be the heartbreaking one of the group. 

     - You’re staring again, Beck. - Mark elbowed in the side, noticing Chris eyes were on Y/N’s back. They always sat a row above the girls not to interrupt their studies as they always complained whenever they spoke during lectures. - Just ask her out.

    - I can’t ask her out. - Chris turned to his friend, upset that they still brought it up. He always told himself that he’d eventually meet another girl and fall in love with her and forget about Y/N but it had been 3 years and he was still head over heels with Y/N. 

    - Beck, Watney, what is so interesting that you’d rather be speaking in my lecture than listening to it? - their lecture called them out making Y/N, Beth and Melissa turned to face the boys, a smirk on their faces. 

    - Sorry Mr. Parris. - Chris said, mentally wanting to stab Watney. He needed to pass this module and if he continued to piss off the lecturer, he would never do it. After what felt like two hours but were only thirty minutes, everyone was dismissed. 

Y/N, Beth and Melissa were the first ones to exit as usual. They always went to their favourite table on the ground floor of the library were they could eat as well as revise for their modules. Those were always the first ones to go out, so they always rushed there.

They got to their favourite tables and placed their bags on the table, sitting on the worn out black chairs, laptops going on top of the table along with their post its filled with more notes. 

    - So, the spring ball is in a week. Who are you guys taking? - Melissa started their short gossiping. They always did a bit of girl talk before they went straight onto their studies. - I’m thinking about inviting my lab partner.

    - Blonde with the cute bum? - Y/N inquired and Melissa nodded. - Are you guys gonna finally stop flirting and go the next step?

    - Look who’s talking, Miss Single. - Melissa teased. - I know who you are taking, no one. What about you Beth, please tell me you’re taking someone.

    - Maybe I’m gonna ask Chris. I don’t think someone has asked him yet. - the redhead said with a smile on her face. Y/N however did not share the same excitement Melissa showed her. She didn’t know Beth had a thing for Chris, it was never mentioned to her. 

    - Chris Beck? As in my best friend Christopher Beck? - maybe it was another Chris. God, the name Chris was a popular one, every single kid had it as either their first or middle name. 

    - Yeah, Chris. Why has someone asked him out already? 

    - Not that I know of. When did you start liking Chris?

    - He’s handsome and he’s sweet, there’s not a lot of guys that are handsome and sweet besides we wanna go into the same NASA programme after university so it has potential to be something serious. 

    - Just took me by surprise. - Y/N shrugged, head going straight to her book. Melissa furrowed her eyebrows turning to Beth to ask her something which caused her to leave to grab a book.

    - Right, Y/N. Spill it. - Melissa grabbed the book away from her, making sure she listened to her instead of reading volume two of the physiology of organ systems.

    - Spill what? - Y/N tried to push the book back but Melissa was already expecting this and put it on the table behind them. - I need to read two chapters in an hour to make sure my study sche ...

    - “Chris Beck? As in my friend Christopher Beck?” - Melissa mocked her voice, rolling her eyes. - We don’t know any other Chrises, you idiot. 

    - That’s just hurtful. There’s another Chris.

    - Where? - she crossed her arms, leaning against her chair.

    - Chris, the guy that serves us coffee every single day. - to be honest, Y/N did not know the name of that guy because he didn’t use a name tag but he looked like a Chris. He was probably a Chris. 

    - God, Y/N just admit it you like Chris. You’ve liked Chris since you two went on that weird medicine field trip and ever since you haven’t shut up about him. 

    - I never talk about Chris.

    - Oh really? Just yesterday we were watching Breakfast at Tiffanys and just because the male lead had blue eyes you mentioned Chris. God Y/N, you like Chris. 

    - Chris is my best friend, Melissa. Besides, you know I don’t date.

    - Why because you’re still hang up on your ex? The same ex you have not mentioned or complained about ever since you and Chris came back from the medicine field trip. - Chris and Y/N were part of the same course unlike everyone else who were only on some lecturers together which meant they got to go on field trips together. Since their group was so tight knitted, she got some alone time with Chris, something she deeply adored as he was probably the nicest, funniest guy she ever knew. In all honesty, she had been so busy thinking about how nice he was, she had completely forgotten about her ex. Heck, she had even forgotten his name. There was no more love, no more hate, it was just indifference.  - Tell Beth you’re going with Chris.

    - No, I’m not going with Chris because he’s going with Beth.

    - Right, are you dense? 

    - I don’t wanna hurt my friend besides I’m his best friend, he doesn’t see me that way. - Y/N sported a sad smile now, something that made Melissa deeply upset. She knew Chris liked her and now she was sure Y/N liked him back, however it wasn’t her place to break it to her friend that her best friend had been in love with her ever since they met. - I don’t wanna hurt Beth.

    - What’s Chris favourite movie?

    - Taxi Driver, why?

    - Beth? - Melissa turned to face Beth. - What’s Chris’ favourite movie?

    - I don’t know, ask Y/N. - she returned to look for the book she was looking for in the huge book shelf. 

    - See? Whenever someone needs anything about Chris they always ask you. Go on, go and ask him out and then return. 

    - Will you stop annoying me if I do so?

    - I’ll even buy you dinner, go.

Y/N got up from her seat, placing the laptop in her bag and walking away from the table. How was she even going to ask Chris out? He was her best friend, he had never shown any interest and he had seen in situation that would stop anyone from being remotely interested in her. As she was about to walk out the library she saw the very familiar grey sweater from the NASA museum Chris always wore. She rushed in front of him, stopping him in his tracks.

    - Hi Y/N, are you okay? 

    - Are you going to the spring ball? - she was one of those people, always trying to get stuff away before she got scared and decided not to do it.

    - No, I thought we were going to McDonalds and then to a movie.

    - Right, rain check on that. Would you like to go to the spring ball?

    - No, sounds like a waste of time besides I’d have to find someone to invite to go with or be the alone one and get mocked by Watney and Martinez ... and probably Lewis.

    - No, I mean would you like to go to the spring ball with me as in a date. Me and you in a date.

    - Did Martinez put you up to this?

    - No, I just ... I like you and I’d like it if we went together. See how it works. 

    - I would love to, Y/N.

[hexcaught]

it’s  been  𝐬𝐢𝐱  𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬  since  the  𝐦𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧  witch,  𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘  𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐃  was  sorted  into  𝐠𝐫𝐲𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐫  upon  arriving  at  hogwarts.  i  suppose  over  the  years  we’ve  learnt  that  she  is  𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝,  𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭,  𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠  &  𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟-𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭,  i  guess  that’s  why  they  were  sorted  where  they  were.  (  𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑎  𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑟.  )

𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒  !

rose-glossed  lips  sweet  from  peach  schnapps,  wishing  on  a  firefly  when  the  night  is  overcast,  re-organizing  your  room  for  the  third  time  that  week,  the  warm  touch  of  a  hand  when  words  fail,  buttery  croissants  in  a  sun-dappled  cafe,  and  the  realization  you’ve  grown  too  big  for  your childhood  bed.

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈  𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓  !

i.  MIRROR  BALL  -  taylor  swift.

ii.  A  LITTLE  BIT  ALEXIS  -  schitt’s  creek  /  annie  murphy.

character  inspo  includes:  tahani  al-jamil  (  the  good  place  ),  alexis  rose  (  schitt’s  creek  )  rachel  green  (  friends  ),  vilde  lien  hellerud  (  skam  ),  elle  woods  (  legally  blonde  ),  ty  lee  (  a:tla  ),  amy  march  (  little  women  ),  charlotte  la  bouff  (  princess  and  the  frog  ),  galinda  upland  (  wicked  )

mary  macdonald  was  brought  up  rich.  rich  in  money  and  rich  in  support  &  love.  she  was  the  only  child  of  charles  and  nancy  macdonald,  a  fairly  wealthy  english  couple.  they  weren’t  like,  obscenely  wealthy.  there  were  no  butlers  ironing  the  morning  paper,  or  private  planes.  but  they  were  the  sort  of  wealthy  that  gets  taken  for  granted  –  growing  up,  mary  never  wanted  for  anything.  she’s  used  to  vacationing  somewhere  warm  and  historic  every  summer.  picture  mcmansions,  suburban  pta  meetings,  disney  princess  movies,  dressing  up  nice  for  sundays  at  church.

her  parents  were  very  much  involved  in  her  childhood,  and  always  supported  her  throughout  every  twist  and  turn  in  her  life.  she’s  always  been  very  open  with  her  parents  and  tells  them  everything.  usually.

she  also  did  child  beauty  pageants  when  she  was  little.  adults  adored  her.  the  word  darling  was  frequently  heard  to  describe  mary  macdonald.  it’s  definitely  shaped  who  she  is  as  a  person  –  frequently  competitive,  a  little  desperate  for  validation,  often  too  concerned  about  appearances,  always  knows  how  to  pull  on  a  winning  smile  even  when  you  just  want  to  go  home  and  cry.  #relatable

but  the  love  and  support  in  her  childhood  has  also  shaped  who  she  is.  her  spoiled  upbringing  has  gifted  her  with  an  indefatigable  sense  of  optimism  and  an  inability  to  take  no  for  an  answer.  she  lives  in  a  world  where  everything  can  be  solved  and  everything  has  its  place.  her  parents’  faith  &  religion  has  taught  her  to  believe  in  the  genuine  good  of  humanity,  and  that  if  you  do  good  things,  you  will  be  rewarded.

fast  forward  to  1971,  when  mary  turned  fourteen,  and  learned  she  was  a  witch.  her  parents  almost  didn’t  want  to  send  her  to  hogwarts,  but  mary  was  so  excited  by  the  idea  that  they  couldn’t  possibly  say  no  to  their  little  girl.  so  off  she  went,  bundled  up  in  a  burberry  jacket  and  scarf,  armed  with  the  best  supplies  diagon  alley  had  to  offer.  she  was  definitely  that  obnoxious  kid  with  the  gold  scales.  mary’s  parents  didn’t  mean  to  spoil  her  rotten,  they  were  just  sending  their  daughter  to  this  place  they  knew  nothing  about  for  several  months  and  this  was  the  best  way  they  knew  to  protect  her.  they  also  sent  her  daily  letters  and  weekly  care  packages  for  her  entire  first  term  in  first  year.  wow

she  was  sorted  into  gryffindor  upon  arriving  &  immediately  began  to  make  friends,  thanks  to  her  chatty  &  cheery  nature.  and  also  thanks  to  her  need  to  have  everyone  she  meets  like  her.  they  didn’t,  of  course  –  i’d  like  to  say  most  people  did,  at  least  after  the  initial  mary  shock  wore  off,  but  of  course  there  were  those  who  found  her  overpowering  and  abrasive.  and  there  were  those  who  disliked  her  simply  because  of  the  blood  running  through  her  veins.

she  approached  hogwarts  with  determination  &  optimism.  and  maybe  a  little  bit  of  competitiveness.  fun  fact:  the  sorting  hat  briefly  considered  slytherin  for  her  because  of  her  ambition  and  charm,  but  when it  comes  down  to  it,  she’s  a  gryffindor  through  and  through.  she  joined  clubs,  she  talked  to  professors  after  class,  she  made  neat,  colour-coordinated  notes.  she  made  her  presence  known  from  day  1  and  took  hogwarts  by  storm.  she  wanted  to  be  popular,  she  wanted  to  be  noticed

and  she  was  –  just  also  by  the  wrong  sort  of  people.  in  her  fifth  year,  she  was  attacked  by  mulciber  (  something  i’ll  plot  out  more  once  we  get  a  mulciber  )

but  uh  yeah  this  caused  a  shitload  of  trauma  !  for  one  thing,  she  was  paranoid  as  fuck  for  a  long  while  after  the  attack.  she  was  terrified  of  being  alone,  and  still  is  to  an  extent.  she  was  haunted  by  nightmares  almost  every  night  for  months.  but  most  of  all  –  the  attack  sparked  an  unidentifiable  doubt  and  sadness  as  she  struggled  to  reconcile  her  optimistic  beliefs  with  the  horrors  she  now  knew  existed  in  the  world.

she  kept  it  all  on  the  down-low,  though,  and  a  lot  of  people  who  were  at  hogwarts  at  the  time  don’t  know  how  bad  the  attack  actually  affected  her.  because  she  just  pulled  on  a  pageant-winning  smile,  and  did  what  she  was  best  at  –  pretending  everything  was  okay.  not  a  great  way  of  coping  with  trauma  !

she  didn’t  even  tell  her  parents.  she  knew  how  worried  they  would  be,  and  she  didn’t  want  them  to  feel  like  they  couldn’t  protect  their  daughter.  they  knew  a  boy  named  mulciber  had  cursed  her,  but  they  thought  it  was  just  an  instance  of  schoolyard  bullying,  and  mary  lied  and  told  them  he  was  expelled  because  of  it.

eventually,  she  started  getting  past  it  –  sometimes  she  still  wakes  up  from  nightmares,  sure,  and  she  still  has  her  bad  days,  but  she’s  surviving  and  growing.  for  now.

so  !  what  kind  of  a  person  is  mary  macdonald  ?  controlling.  idealistic.  uncertain.  perfectionistic.  vain.  tender.  materialistic.  flirtatious.  stubborn.  ambitious.  charming.  conflicted.  spoiled.  impulsive.  yearning.  loving.

she  likes  everything  planned  to  a  tee,  jotted  down  neatly  in  her  favourite  pink  leather  planner.  she  colour  codes  all  her  notes.  her  room  is  always  neat  and  tidy  and  her  makeup  is  always  impeccable.

if  this  were  a  muggle  high  school  au,  she  would  be  the  head  of  the  prom  planning  committee  and  it  would  have  a  1950s  theme.

she  will  give  you  way  too  many  second  chances  and  it  will  break  her  heart.  she  believes  in  the  good  of  humanity  with  a  stubbornness  that’s  almost  naive.

she  is  way  too  dependent  on  validation,  i’m  gonna  tell  you  right  now.  a  total  attention  seeker,  but  she  manages  to  be  just  charming  enough  that  it  isn’t  annoying.  her  good  looks  don’t  hurt,  either.

she  can  be  petty  !  she  can  definitely  be  so  petty  !  and  way  too  used  to  getting  what  she  wants.  i  hate  her

she  is  one  of  the  quidditch  commentators  except  uh  …  girl  knows  nothing  about  quidditch.  mostly  just  gossips  into  the  mic  about  the  players  while  her  partner  commentator  (  wc  !!!!!  )  actually  commentates  on  the  gameplay.  but  she’s  managed  to  keep  the  position  cause  it  entertains  the  audience  and  draws  out  students  who  aren’t  as  interested  in  quidditch

loose  connection  ideas:  ima  be  honest  with  you,  mary  is  a  ho.  gimme  fwb,  hookups,  ex-flings.  the  more  drama  the  betterrr.  also,  girl  squad  wya  ??  OR  EX-FRIENDS.  the  dramaaaa.  again,  would  love  another  quidditch  commentator.  i’d  also  love  a  frenemy  plot,   a  bad  influence,  a  good  influence,  a  one-sided  crush  (  on  either  side  ),  study  buddies,  or  just  straight  up  enemies,  a  bickering  relationship  …  anything  tbh

[blacktotheblueside]

(Ex) Bobby

Summary: you just ready for bobby tah GO!!!! But he fine so you don’t know...

I was an actress that was challenging myself, I was obsessed with Korean dramas and wanted to play a part in one so my management brought me to South Korea around 3 years ago and in those years I was in a few kdramas, movies and in a public relationship with iKon’s one and only bobby. We’re currently broken up and it has just been released by none other than dispatch themselves, I’m sat with my management discussing how I’m gonna be bombarded with questions about my breakup and how I should handle it. I’m in a new drama as the main female lead and I’m going to be doing a ton of interviews he’s bound to be mentioned in a few.

I sigh as my team lay advice and all sorts. I’m very grateful I’ve been given this opportunity to act in Korea, I learnt the language when I first came and been working on it ever since hence why now I get more parts, this is the first time in one of the main characters. I just wanna focus on work but even while we’re broken up bobby still finds a way to be in my life.

~~~~

It’s 4am and my alarm goes off, I have sooo much schedules today. I don’t even try and dose off again like usual, I jump off the bed and get showered before my stylist arrives to dress me for the day...hair dressers, make up artist all that!

I’m dressed in a white baggy tee waiting for *KnockKnockKnock* they’re here.

We went with fresh faced makeup and my curly hair in a sleek low bun. For my outfit I’m wearing black skinny fit trousers and a white see through dress shirt, it’s baggy and it’s hanging off my shoulders teamed with a white bralette, yellow pump heels and yellow studs.

<My Schedule>

Inkigayo actor special mc w/ seo kang jun

Hello counsellor

Happy together foreigners working in korean entrainment

That’s all for today, I’m glad it was all shows where I won’t have to speak about bobby, all fun chatting.

~~~ Inkigayo ~~~

I walk through the corridor to get to my dressing room. I can speak korean but I still get so nervous before a show, I hate messing up! I have to get changed into something less formal, I go with a white dungaree dress with a pink off the shoulder top and pink high top converse. A long glittery chain for a belt and have my curls styled half up in a pony tail and the rest down my back.

I have 10 minutes left so I start making my way to the stage. I say hi at least 100 times on my way no joke, I bump into BTS on the way as the have a new comeback, I remained so calm I’m proud! I see kang Jun and we start chatting, we’ve met before at award shows and other tv shows, he tells me to not be scared and we head out and the crowd cheers!

We finish the show smoothly making me wonder why I was nervous to start with. I say bye to kang Jun and all the acts I see on my way out, bangtan we’re not there so I was a little disappointed I’m a huge fan of them. Next time I guess.

I’ve changed back into my first outfit and I’m on the way to my next schedule... I eat a famous inkigayo sandwich in the car while getting my hair re done and my make up touched up.

~~~ hello counsellor ~~~

I arrive just in time to say hi to all the hosts and guest...we make our way onto the set.

I’m a guest along with jay park and Jeonghan and scoups from svt. The boys show some of there new song. As for me they play a snippet of my new drama. They compliment my Korean a few times and ask about how I came over and started acting here.

Hello counsellor was so fun to shoot I got to role play with jay park on how to overcome an angry wife, I laughed and nearly even cried.

The show ends and I make my way to the car again. I change in the car thank God for tinted windows! I change into dark brown leather skirt and a light brown t shirt tucked in, with khaki sandal heels and earrings. My hair is in a high ponytail with my baby hairs styled (obviously by me)

~~~ happy together ~~~

This is the one I’m more excited for! I’ve always wanted to come on here. I make my way to my dressing room and now I’m already dressed and ready to go I’ve got time to kill, I am going out on a full stomach! I’m on my phone while I’m walking, my Social media all blowing up! I click on twitter to see my mentions all filled with articles of bobby.... curiosity gets the better of me, I see the headline “NETIZENS ARE QUESTIONING WHETHER iKON’S BOBBY AND ACTRESS Y/N ARE REALLY BROKEN UP AFTER BOBBY POSTS PHOTO OF A WOMAN’S SHADOW CAPTIONED WITH Y/N’S MOST FAMOUS LINE.”

I’m in the dressing room and I sit straight down before I fall or even worse get snapped looking at this!

I click the “read more” button and start skimming the article.

The picture is definitely me....what is he doing?! It was when we went on a date late at night near Han river, he snapped my shadow on the floor and the caption written in korean “it’s a butterfly”... omg it was a line from a movie I did, it was one of the highlights of the film as it was the tearjerker.

I don’t have time for this. My manager walks towards me and sits down ‘judging by your face you’ve seen the article.... don’t pay attention! Just go out there and pretend you’ve seen nothing’ he states. I nod slowly and sit there in silence, we broke up like nearly a month ago... why would he post this after not even trying to talk to me. Boys are so weird! I start playing games on my phone to take my mind off this distraction. I look at the time and see if I still have time for a snack bc of nerves, I don’t so I make my way to the couches. I stop and bow to the whole cast and sit on the seat, we’re all making small talk till it starts. In the interview they ask us foreigners about how we first came to Korea, how we learnt the language and first impressions of Korea when we first came. Another black person famous in Korea, Sam from Ghana was there we had so much in common. I laughed so much and we all had so much fun.

We spoke a bit about our work and I explained what my new drama was about and my character. We watched a little snippet again and some bloopers.

‘So y/n we hear you’re now single’ one of the hosts ask. Oh no....ok I’ve got this ‘yeah i am’ I smile acting like this isn’t bothering me at all. ‘Was that your first time dating a korean man?’ I nodded ‘it was’

Oohs and ahhs came from them all ‘so hows it different to guys back home?’ I think for a little bit ‘to be honest there’s not a lot of difference just the language difference I guess’ I say calmly. They nodded in agreement ‘were there any difficulties with the language barrier?’ I sigh to show them how exhausted I was in the beginning ‘oh yes, I couldn’t speak a lot of korean back when we first met. He could speak English though so I was good! But when I met his friends and family....’ I trail off a bit thinking about those times, No focus! ‘I was forced to speak so bit by bit I got better so it was awkward at first but it paid off in the end.... free korean lessons’ i say content with my answer. Sam pipes in ‘oh my I spent so much on korean lessons before I got into my first relationship!’ ‘Should’ve got in a relationship quicker’ I reply. We all laughed at his shocked face.

The show ends with a game where we guess a catchphrase by what the artist is drawing.

After the show me and Sam exchange numbers, he’s too funny to not have as a friend.

~~~~

I’m done for the day, I tell my manager I need food or else I’m going to collapse. We get pizza and fries, they drop me off home and I get undressed and ready for bed. I have a day off tomorrow so I planned to stay up late and watch my favourite shows but I’m exhausted. I hear my phone go off and it’s an unfamiliar number.... I pick up ‘hello?’ I hear breathing and just as I’m about to say hello again ‘hey y/n....’ bobby! After being together for so long I know his voice! After we broke up I blocked his number and got back to work... he probably changed it. ‘Hello?!’ Bobby says trying to see if I’m still there. ‘Bobby... what do you want?’ I get straight to the point, he sighs ‘y/n don’t...please... I just wanna see how you are! I watched you today on inkigayo’ is he being foreal? Calling as if we’re best friends catching up at the end of the day. ‘Bobby is there something you want?’ I’m tired ‘I-‘ I cut him off ‘I saw your Ig post, what was that for?’ I question. All I heard was silence, I had to pull the phone to my face so I could see whether the phone call had disconnected.

‘I wanted to talk to you...’ he started I stayed quiet he takes a deep breath ‘y/n I’m not gonna lie and say that this break up has been easy...’ oh no ‘...it really hasn’t! I just want you to give me...’ here he comes!!! ‘...one more chance’ he said it. I don’t know what to do, of course I still love him but we just to in love... so in love that we were just distracting each other from our jobs. ‘I... don’t think that’s the best option right now b’ I say quietly, I’m angry at him for ignoring me for so long and now he wants to pop up in his own time, when it’s convenient for him. ‘...I’m so busy these days... I don’t think I can handle a boyfriend, an ex at that.... right at this moment’ he sighs again, ‘you don’t think I’m busy too?’ He’s frustrated and quite frankly I don’t care ‘Don’t start with me bobby, you broke up with me, ignored me for how long and NOW you want me back?’ I state the facts to him. He groans ‘I know! And it was stupid of me, I made a dumb decision on impulse... and now I regret it every damn day!’

I re ask him ‘why did you upload that picture?’ ‘Because I wanted you to see it and the whole world to see that I’m not giving up on you, on our relationship! I don’t want anyone else’ my heart flutters a little and I hate him and me for being so weak to his sweet words.

‘I’ll think about it’ I tell him. ‘Don’t run and hide from me y/n!’ He says something I was sure I was gonna do ‘I won’t, I just need some time... this is too much for me’

‘I seen the trailer for your new drama.... I’ve been keeping up with you in the media, I’m proud of you’ I hear his smile through his words. I’ve been keeping up with him too, I won’t tell him that though ‘Thanks’ I whisper. After a few moments of silence ‘I’ll let you get to sleep now.... but don’t forget me, take everything I said into consideration.... I really want you back here with me baby’ omg I just want to forget everything and tell him to come here right this minute but that would be dumb. I just settle for a simple ‘ok’ we exchange good nights and I fall asleep really thinking about what’d it be like if we did get back together or were we better off separated.

Part 2 coming soon (black people timing)

[kayteewritessteve]

Secrets and Sins - 6/13

Description: You flee from an abusive situation and find yourself on the other side of the country, creating new friends and possibly finding new love. But will you be able to escape your past? To truly move on with your life? Or will everything come crashing down around you in the blink of an eye?

Catch up HERE.

Word Count: 4,080 ish.

Pairing: Mobster!Steve Rogers x Reader.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Violence—This chapter has a violent interaction in it, it’s a small moment, but be warned. Drinking. Curse words. Brief mentions of abusive behaviour, and moments of abuse. Plus possible other triggering thoughts and feelings described.

A/N: I sadly don’t own any of these characters. And no beta reader, so I do proudly own all the errors, so there’s that.

The next day was your first day off all week. You allowed yourself to sleep in, waking up damn near midday. That was a first in a long time but you had to make up for the extremely late girls night you, Wanda and Nat had the night before. It was just movies and hot chocolates, after the shift Nat and you worked, but it was just nice to have friends that you could have nights like those with. He never really allowed you to have friends, female or not—especially the not female type. He didn’t want your friends giving you any ideas. He didn’t want you to have any life lines. And it had worked. By the time you realized why he didn’t want you having friends, it was too late.

You had to deal with everything he did to you entirely on your own. You had never felt more alone. More isolated. More trapped. It was not a good place to be, and the day you finally decided it was time to run, you packed just the stuff you knew he wouldn’t notice right away. Loaded up the trunk of your car and left, in the middle of the night. While he slept soundly in the bed you’d both shared.

He never let you have money of your own. Everything was on credit cards, everything was trackable, which is extremely inconvenient when you are trying to plan an escape. So you got inventive.

In the beginning, whenever he would abuse you, the next day he would pretend he was sorry and that he felt guilty, you knew it was bullshit, but you played along. You started to tell him shopping would make you feel better, would make you happy again. So he’d approve a limit and off you’d go.

You’d buy watches, neckless’, rings and clothes. Knowing that when you did finally flee, the jewelry would be easy to take and pawn. To him you just liked flashy things, he obviously didn’t know a damn thing about you. Once you ran, that’s exactly what you did, you drove south and pawned all the shit along the way. Attempting to leave a trail in the wrong direction. Once you had pawned everything, you doubled back and stuck mainly to the back roads, well as much as you could, it wasn’t always an option. But you made do.

It took you awhile before you finally reached New York, but you figured if you could throw him off your trail for a bit, it would be worth it. And now that you have been in New York for a few weeks, it had clearly worked in your favour.

During your girls night Wanda had asked how the shift went, and Nat had made a very pointed, sly comment at you about how ‘someone’ had come in to ‘visit’. Wanda’s eyes damn near bulged out of her head as she yelled for you to tell her the whole story, everything that happened, and not to miss a single detail. So you told her all about your run in with Steve, Nat throwing in parts of the story from her perspective. Just in case you’d forgotten, which of course you fucking hadn’t.

Wanda had been adamant, originally, about steering clear of him, but throughout the story she started to teeter on that a bit.

So once you had finished recounting the whole interaction and some of your feelings during it, she was a little more swayed. She still wasn’t 100% on board, but she was warming up to the idea of you possibly saying yes to a date with him. She urged you to take it slow and to only agree to a date if it’s what you really, truly wanted. Oh, and to be safe. But that whatever you chose to do, she would stand behind you and your decision. Where as Nat had just warned you to be careful, that he used to be an amazing guy, but that she wasn’t sure if he had gone fully back to that or not. However, she also commented that you could maybe be good for him, in that regard.

Them both being somewhat on board put you more at ease, you had only just gotten Wanda and Nat in your life, but they had quickly become your best friends and you needed them, more then they could ever know.

After all the serious talk was out of the way Wanda pointed out that if you did date him, it would mean that you’d be able to get her and Nat into some fancy ass VIP sections, and private parties. You had made a joke about her pimping you out for her own benefit to which she just shrugged and said, “Girls gotta do what a girls gotta do,” you all laughed till it hurt then the conversation got lighter. You all zoning out on movies and eating way too much junk food, before you called it a night and took a cab home.

You rolled over in bed to pick up your phone. ‘No new messages,’ so you put it back down then pulled yourself up then wandered over to your bathroom. Quickly brushing your teeth and hopping in the shower. Once you were done, still in your towel, you went back into your room and grabbed your pants from the day before. You reached into the back pocket and pulled out the business card. Spinning it in between your fingers a few times, humming and hawing before you plopped down on your bed and picked up your phone. You added Steve into your contacts then opened a text window to him.

You started typing a message but then quickly started to hit the backspace button, and deleted it all. Then you started typing another message only to, again, delete it all. You groaned. It hasn’t even been 24 hours yet and i’m already itching to message him. The fuck? No. Not yet. You will not cave that quickly. Guy doesn’t need anymore of an ego boost.

You heaved yourself up off the bed and got dressed in a pair of light blue skinny jeans, a white tank top with a white knit sweater over top. Then you went over to your window, to look out at the busy street below. It was a beautiful sunny day, though probably still cold as balls, there were a bunch of people out and about. You took one more glance at your phone then decided you needed some fresh air. You needed to get out of your apartment before you did something hasty. Something impulsive. Maybe you’d wander around for a bit then head down to the Maximoff’s shop and pick up a few things. You pulled on your white converses and your black bomber jacket then looked out the peephole. All clear. You opened the door and headed out.

Once you got down to the street you pushed open the front door of your building, walked down the steps then checked both directions quickly before you began to walk towards your favourite little coffee shop.

You opened the doors to the wonderful smell of fresh brewed coffee mixed with of hint of donuts. You had stumbled upon this place a couple of weeks back, and it had quickly became your favourite place to spend down time. Well aside from your apartment, Wanda’s or the Maximoff’s shop. But it was a close 4th for sure.

You stood in line for a few minutes and zoned out on your thoughts. Mainly of a pair of piercing blue eyes and the deep, seductive voice that went with them. You began to think about the words he had said to you, how they had made you feel. That is, until you felt someone tap your shoulder gently and you looked at the person behind you. They pointed towards the counter and you turned to realize the barista was trying to get your attention, you hadn’t noticed the line moving and now it was your turn to order. With a quick ‘sorry, and thank you,’ to the person that tapped you out of your trance, you moved up to the counter. You ordered your favourite hot fall beverage, then stepped over to the far side of the counter to wait.

Once your drink showed up, you went to sit in a window seat to just relax, enjoy your drink and people watch for a bit through the large shop windows.

New York was the city that never slept and there was always an abundance of people to watch, no matter what time of day. People heading to and from work. Families out for a stroll. Couples walking hand in hand. Dog walkers. Bike couriers. And cabs. So many cabs. You wondered what other peoples lives were like. Were they happy with their lives? Did they enjoy their jobs? Had they found true love? Or were they running from their past, just like you were?

You sat there for just over an hour, your drink was cold by the time you reached the last few sips but you didn’t mind. You finished it off then threw out the cup and pushed the front door open to head back out onto the sidewalk. The sounds of New York ringing in your ears.

You wandered around just checking out stores and enjoying some much needed time off. Some much needed alone time. Not only to just relax, but also to help clear your mind. Clear those darn persistent thoughts. You knew if you sat in your apartment all day, you’d have texted Steve. You had very little self control when it came to men, clearly.—Or maybe just when it came to him. You were surprised you had withstood this long. Maybe your ex had changed you in one good way. Not that you’d ever thank him for what he’d done to you. But maybe you were stronger now. Wiser, even.

After a while of wandering, you found yourself outside of the Maximoff’s shop. Your mind had subconsciously brought you here. You opened the door to the familiar chimes of the overhead bells, signalling a new customer, and saw the smile break out in Mr. Maximoff’s face when his eyes met yours. You had visited their shop often, ever since you’d first stumbled into it that first week in town. They had almost become like family to you. Like the family you’d never actually had. You’d come down on your days off and just chat with Mr. Maximoff, about everything and anything. He was extremely easy to talk to and had been around the block a few times, to say the least, so he gave good advice.

“Y/N. How are you today, dear?”

You smiled. A real smile. “Good. Good. It’s my day off so I figured I’d stop in and grab a few things.”

“Of course, good plan.”

You grabbed a basket and wandered the aisles, answering Mr. Maximoff’s questions as you went. Once you had everything you needed you went up to the till, you both chatted for a little while longer, as he slowly rang in all of your items. You paid him then headed out, waving from the door as you left. By the time you finally got back outside the sun was just starting to set, and it was just starting to get dark out. You hadn’t even realized just how long you had talked to Mr. Maximoff till this exact moment. God, you missed the long summer days. These autumn days were just too short. And it got dark far too early.

You needed to get home, and fast. You didn’t want to be out, alone, after dark for too long. You began to walk down the sidewalk, back towards your place but something just felt …off. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it but your gut was not happy about something. That much you knew. And you had this eerie feeling. Like something bad was about to happen. You paused your steps and looked over your shoulder, feeling again like you were being watched, but not in a good way this time. However, nothing really stood out to you, no one even seemed to notice you, let alone be staring at you.

You turned back around to face forward, pulling your hood up and over your head, then kept your head down. Just a little further till you reached your apartment. Just a little further. You were almost there so you peered over your shoulder once more, before turning back around to walk up the steps to the front door of your building, but just as you did someone bumped into your shoulder, hard. So hard it almost knocked you down. You caught yourself at the last second then quickly spun around to look at the person who had damn near shoulder checked you, and a chill instantly ran down your spin.

You didn’t know who he was, but the look on his face was not a friendly one. That much you could tell. And he was built like a damn brick shit house.

“Oh, are you Y/N?” He asked, in the most fake friendly voice you had ever heard. It honestly gave you the creeps. And made you feel instantly uncomfortable.

“Nope, sorry dude.” You responded nonchalantly, trying to keep your voice even and confident. You needed to mask the nerves in your voice, they would have been a dead give away, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to take him if push came to shove. Not alone at least.

You turned and headed for the stairs again. You didn’t want to turn your back on him but you had to make him think you weren’t threatened by him, as you had ‘no idea who Y/N was’.

“You sure?” He questioned.

“Positive.” You replied firmly. You prayed he believed you and just walked away. You pulled your keys out of your pocket and started up the stairs.

“Huh, that’s funny because you look just like her.” He clearly hadn’t gone away, you tucked the keys between your fingers in a closed fist, making sure to hide that from the shit brick house. You wanted to make sure that if he did pull anything, that you’d have a slight advantage,—Though not much, and probably not for long, as he was fucking huge,— but an advantage, nonetheless.

“I just have one of those faces, I guess,” you shrugged.

“No, I don’t think that’s it. But we will let him be the judge of that.”

You froze. The words instantly sent a nasty chill down your spin, again. And you felt like the wind was knocked out of you. He had found you. He knew where you were. And had clearly sent people to retrieve you—

Before you could think anything else you felt the man grab your left arm, forcefully. You instantly dropped your bags and spun on your heels towards him on your left, arm cocked, the few steps you had gotten up giving you the perfect height to clock him in the face. And using the momentum of your spin your fist collided with his jaw, and fucking hard at that. He let go of your arm and released a deep guttural sound as his hand flew up to cup his face.

“You fucking bitch!” He growled. The keys had broken the flesh and left some pretty nasty gashes in his face. At least from what you could quickly see through his fingers. But you weren’t about to wait around to get a better look.

You scrambled to take advantage of the brief moment and bolted up the steps for the door. You fumbled with your keys but just as you put it in the keyhole you felt a hand on the back of your head. He grabbed ahold of your hair and yanked you backwards. You stumbled on your own feet and slammed into the stairs, your back taking the brunt of the hit, and it damn near winded you. Then you felt him start to drag you down the rest of the stairs by your hair. You flailed and clawed at his hand in an attempt to get him to release you, but it didn’t work. He was too strong. Panic began to sink in. You were no match for this man. He was so much bigger than you.

Just as he got you to the bottom of the stairs you hear the sound of tires screeching to a stop. Praying a random bystander was stopping to help you. But before you could even think about who may be in the car, you felt his hand forcefully withdrawn from you. And you knew someone had, in fact, stopped to help you. You quickly pulled yourself up to your feet, but instantly felt light headed so you collapsed down to sit on the steps. Raising a hand up to massage the back of your head where he had grabbed you.

You could barely comprehend what was going on around you. It had all happened so fast. You heard another car pull up, a car door slamming shut loudly right after, and then the sounds of quick footsteps coming towards you. You tensed up as fear fill your body at the thought of who was running towards you, you quickly looked up but then your eyes locked onto a very familiar figure and a set of piecing blues.

“Y/N!”

And just from hearing his voice all the fear washed away, instantly. Steve. You don’t know why, but something about him being here put you at ease. He was here. In front of you. You were safe now.

Before he could even get up the stairs, you sprung up and lunged yourself at him. It had clearly caught him off guard as he tensed up momentarily before finally wrapping his arms tightly around you. You buried your face into his chest and took a few deep breaths. His smell engulfing you and taking over your senses. You don’t know why you hugged him, but you’re glad you did, and in his arms was the safest you had felt in a while.

He cradled your head with one large hand, while the other rubbed your back, soothingly.

After a few minutes he released his hold on you and pulled back. You mimicked his movements, pulling your arms out from around his waist and taking a half step back. Instantly missing his warmth but also realizing just how intimate that moment was. Maybe you had overstepped? But then his hands went to either side of your face.

“Are you okay?” He asked urgently as his hands cupped your cheeks and moved your head around ever so gently so he could look you over. And you knew right then that you hadn’t overstepped.

Was he worried about you? You grabbed his wrists to pause his inspection of you, and slowly lowered his hands from your face, before you nodded and quietly responded, “I-I am. T-Thanks to you.” You were obviously still in shock. Clearly still shaky and out of it.

He just stared at you, still looking you over with his eyes as if he had missed something the first time. A few different emotions ran through his beautiful blues before he nodded and looked away from you. You turned to see what he was looking at and watched as two people lugged the now very unconscious shit brick house towards a blacked out Mercedes. They popped the trunk and threw him in, promptly closing it then one of the people—a woman— turned around and nodded to Steve. You looked back up at him just in time to see him give a quick nod in return to her, then he looked back down at you.

“You aren’t safe here anymore, you’ll have to come with me.”

You furrowed your brows, “What do you mean? This is my house?” You questioned. Then reality began to sink in. How did Steve know where you lived? How did he manage to show up right when you needed him most? Who was that guy? Who were those two people, that woman? What the fuck was going on?

“I’ll explain everything but not here,” he turned and headed towards his car.

“What is going on? Who was that guy?” You crossed your arms and held your ground, “Tell me right now or I’m not going with you.”

He paused his steps then turned back to face you, “Either you come on your own or I’ll force you to. Your choice.” He threatened.

“What, so you’re just going to kidnap me then?”

He walked back towards you and in turn you stepped back. That is, until you bumped into the bottom of the stairs, with him just looming directly over you, “Y/N, we don’t have time for this shit. We have to go. Now.” He commanded.

He crouched down and grabbed you around the waist, throwing you over his right shoulder, effortlessly. He wrapped his right arm around your upper thighs then squatted down to grab your purse and bags off the ground with his left hand. “Steve, what the hell! put me down!” You hollered, “Right fucking now!” But he just ignored you, and stood back up to his full height. He then turned and walked over to the car, popping the trunk once he reached it. And you instantly started to freak the fuck out at that. “Okay! Okay! I’ll go with you, just please don’t put me in the trunk! Please!” You pleaded, “I don’t do well in small spaces!”

You felt your body start to involuntarily jiggle and realized he was laughing. The fucker was in the middle of kidnapping you and he was fucking laughing at you? What the fuck?

“What are you laughing about?” You growled.

He finally stopped laughing enough to speak, “Y/N, I’m not putting you in the trunk.” he shook his head then turned his body slightly so you could see into the trunk. Or rather, so you could see your bags, along with your purse, that were now in it. “Oh,” you said slowly as it clicked. Shit. You scrunched up your nose, feeling like an idiot. But what were you supposed to think!?

He shut the trunk and walked to the passenger door, “Are you going to cooperate and get in on your own?” He asked. His tone authoritative. Reprimanding, almost.

“Yes,” you sighed out. Feeling like a scolded child.

“Good.” Then you felt his large hands grip either side of your hips and slowly pull you forwards off his shoulder. Your body connected to his the whole way back to the ground. It made you a little flustered, to say the least, and you felt the heat raise in your cheeks. Your feet finally hit the ground and you glanced up to see that fucking smirk in place on his lips. You quickly turned to open the car door, needing to gain some distance from him but his hand beat you to the handle. He pulled open the door for you and you climbed in, mumbling a ‘thank you’ as you did. You heard him chuckle as he shut the door and made his way around the front of the car.

You crossed your arms somewhat in frustration but also as a comfort thing. You were currently sitting in a car owned by the King of New York, as he was about to get into it and drive you to some unknown location. Shit was scary as hell. But not in the ways you would have expected. You weren’t scared of him. You were scared of how he made you feel, of what would happen if you let him in. Gave into him, fully.

He climbed into the drivers side, settled in then looked over at you, “Belt,” he commanded.

You looked over at him, confused, “What?”

“Put your seatbelt on, Y/N.” He clarified. Though it was obviously still a command.

“Right,” you said then quickly did just that, once it was clicked in he nodded once then put the car in drive and took off down the road. To where? Who fucking knows. But even though he was the most powerful man in New York—and if you were honest, probably most of America—you felt oddly safe. More safe then you had felt in months. Scratch that. Years. And you liked that feeling. A lot, actually.

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

@hopefulmoonobject @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @tessvillegas @boxofteenageideas @wangdeasang @giggleberts @casuallydarktiger @theonelittleone @agentbadbitch

[mistress-audios-babies]

Elijah Phillip Rizzo (Gang 1)

Basic Character Questions

First name?: Elijah.

 Surname?: Rizzo.

 Middle names?: Philip.

 Nicknames: Eli, Ja Ja, Italian Sherlock, Eagle.

 Date of birth?: 30 May 1986.

 Age?: 34.

 Physical / Appearance

Height?: 158cm.

 Weight?: 84kg.

 Build?:  Slightly toned but mostly average.

 Hair colour?: Black with some grey patches.

 Hair style?: Hugh Grant style.

 Eye colour?: Cognac.

 Eye Shape?: Hooded.

 Glasses or contact lenses?: Glasses.

 Distinguishing facial features?: Defined cheek bones. Inverted triangle shape. Facial hair.

 Which facial feature is most prominent?: Cheek bones.

 Which bodily feature is most prominent?: His limp.

 Other distinguishing features?: Scars on his face/hands/torso/legs. Right glass eye. Missing fingers.

 Skin?: Scars. Brown skin tone. Rough.

 Hands?: Missing fingers. Paler palms. Palm scars.

 Scars?: Scars on his face/hands/legs/torso.

 Birthmarks?: Pinkish patch on back of neck.

 Tattoos?: Detailed compass on the inside of his left wrist (coloured).

 Physical handicaps?: Limp. Missing fingers. Glass eye.

 Type of clothes?: On job: Charcoal twill storm system bespoke car coat. White dress shirt. Black dress pants. Pinstripe tie. Black fedora with feather. Comfortable black leather boots. Black silk gloves. Christian cross necklace. Silice.

 How do they wear their clothes?: They dress neatly in public, especially in work, but is more casual at home, most times looking bedraggled from the constant stress.

 What are their feet like? (type of shoes, state of shoes, socks, feet, pristine, dirty, worn, etc): Comfortable black leather boots while in public. Plain white socks while home. Boots worn but sturdy. He has multiple of the same type of boots. Feet leathery, perpetually sore.

 Race / Ethnicity?: Italian.

 Mannerisms?: Has Australian colloquialisms and slight Australian accent, but mostly Italian. Dark sense of humour. Mostly stoic. Slight stutter. Sometimes cannot think of English words.

 Are they in good health?: They have high blood pressure, and PTSD.

 Do they have any disabilities?: Limp. Missing eye. Missing fingers. High blood pressure. PTSD.

 Personality

What words or phrases do they overuse?: General army sayings mostly.

 Do they have a catchphrase?: Houston, that’s your problem.

 Are they more optimistic or pessimistic?: They struggle to remain optimistic, but tries to be.

 Are they introverted or extroverted?: Introverted mainly. Somewhat of a shut-in.

 Do they ever put on airs?: He vents when he drinks, and so he avoids drinking until he feels he cannot take it any longer.

 What bad habits do they have?: Smoking. Swearing in inappropriate situations. Putting his cigarette between his fingers to create a makeshift middle finger. Joking in inappropriate situations.

 What makes them laugh out loud?: His humour runs between overly childish to darkly mature.

 How do they display affection?: Small physical gestures, like squeezing hands.

 Mental handicaps?: PTSD. Depression.

 How do they want to be seen by others?: A mix of the silent and strong and a positive influence.

 How do they see themselves?: He sees himself as made of darkness, and he doesn’t want anyone else to see this. He desperately wants to regain the happy-go-lucky person he was before his army stint, and so tries to be as optimistic as he possibly can.

 How are they seen by others?: Cold and formulaic. Stoic. Emotionally aloof.  Unpleasant yet strangely infectious.

 Strongest character trait?: His problem solving and ability to put aside emotions for facts.

 Weakest character trait?: His desperation to remain optimistic that can get in the way of remaining in the moment.

 How competitive are they?: He generally lets his actions and work speak for themselves rather than asserting for validation.

 Do they make snap judgements or take time to consider?: Take time with his work, but is prone to snap decisions outside of work.

 How do they react to praise?: They remain stoic on the outside but inwardly love it.

 How do they react to criticism?: They remain stoic again, and usually has a smoke afterwards to ponder it.

 What is their greatest fear?: Anything happening to his family, or Private.

 What are their biggest secrets?: He never killed anyone in combat.

 What is their philosophy of life?: No matter the blackness in your soul, only put out light into the world.

 When was the last time they cried?: The last time he drank, which was months ago.

 What haunts them?: His time on the battlefield.

 What are their political views?: Generally middle-based, more left leaning.

 What will they stand up for?: Everyone’s right to justice.

 Who do they quote?: His drill Sargent.

 Are they indoorsy or outdoorsy?: More indoorsy.

 What is their sinful little habit?: Smoking.

 What sense do they most rely on?: Touch and smell.

 How do they treat people better than them?: He treats everyone with equal respect, except for people who hurt others in any way.

 How do they treat people worse than them?: He treats everyone with equal respect, except for people who hurt others in any way.

 What quality do they most value in a friend?: Honesty and compassion.

 What do they consider an overrated virtue?: Courage. Courage disabled him.

 If they could change one thing about themselves, what would it be?: His need for approval of his character.

 What is their obsession?: Cartoons.

 What are their pet peeves?: Needless negativity.

 What are their idiosyncrasies?: Rising early. Constant tidiness. Perpetual attention. Always at attention in some way. Self-flagellation.

  Friends and Family

Is their family big or small? Who does it consist of?: Big family, but only he, his parents and three younger siblings immigrated to Australia. His mother, his father, two younger sisters, and a younger brother.

 What is their perception of family?: He makes an effort to keep in contact with them all, and he has a very good relationship with them all. His family are the ones that mean most to him.

 Do they have siblings? Older or younger?: Two younger sisters and a younger brother (Bella, Luna, and Mattia).

 Describe their best friend.: He doesn’t have one yet.

 Ideal best friend?: One who can make him feel happy, not just exude it. One who will stand by him through everything. One who he can trust and rely on. One that makes him comfortable to be himself.

 Describe their other friends.: Right now he only has work friends, and they are mainly surface level.

 Describe their acquaintances: He considers baristas at local coffee shops to be his acquaintances as they are some of the only people he sees on a regular basis other than work friends.

 Do they have any pets?: He has a blond fox terrier named Private.

 Who are their natural allies?: His colleagues.

 Who are their surprising allies?: The people he works for.

 Past and Future

What was your character like as a baby? As a child?: He was a giggly ball of energy for the longest time. He matured once he got to high school, especially once they immigrated to Australia, as he saw himself responsible of getting his baby sister through the ordeal, who was the only sibling he had at the time.

 Did they grow up rich or poor?: They were fairly well off, not breaching either term.

 Did they grow up nurtured or neglected?: There was no neglect nor abuse, but they weren’t particularly sheltered.

What is the most offensive thing they ever said?: He developed quite a degrading sense of humour in the army, and would constantly say discriminatory things to everyone he deemed beneath him. He grew out of this.

 What is their greatest achievement?: Obtaining his Associate Degree in Criminology.

 What was their first kiss like?: He had his first kiss while on a movie date with his then girlfriend, it started as nervous and shaky, but evolved into a make out session filled with passion.

 What is the worst thing they did to someone they loved?: After returning home after his deployment, he hit his girlfriend while having a flashback, and the relationship ended up terminating as his aggression was too much for her to handle. This is why he tries so hard to be better now.

 What are their ambitions?: At this point in his life, he doesn’t aspire to be anymore than what he already is. All he desires to do is to get through life as best he can.

 What advice would they give their younger self?: Don’t be a hero.

 What smells remind them of their childhood?: The smell of spaghetti cooking and the smell of rain in the winter.

 What was their childhood ambition?: To be like those heroes he saw on tv, to really make a difference in the world like they did.

 What is their best childhood memory?: Coming home from school everyday to his baby sister being so excited to see him, and getting to play with her and be almost as much a parent as their actual parents were.

 What is their worst childhood memory?: Learning what death was when he found out his favourite teacher had been murdered by her ex wife. This started his interest in forensics and justice.

 Did they have an imaginary childhood friend?: It was more like he pretended actual objects were people and he had a rock collection he acted was his fan club for when he was a big hero in the future.

 When was the last time they were crushed with disappointment?: When his relationship ended up terminating a few months ago.

 What past act are they most ashamed of?: The night his fiancée left him, when he had gotten outrageously drunk and had broken down, throwing things around the room and trashing their flat, screaming for Reggie to duck. He had thrown a vase at her and had cut her badly, and she packed her things and left him, leaving him to wake in the morning on the floor with a trashed flat, and his fiancée gone with no recollection of what happened apart from a voice message she had left him at a pay phone. This was the last time he drank.

 What past act are they most proud of?: As much as he regrets it, he is proud of taking the brunt of the explosion for his mate Reggie on the battlefield. They were sneaking past enemy lines to try and free some Iraqi girls they had befriended, and in doing so they had been target for concentrated attack. But while he is proud of his actions and showing of morale, he is also ashamed that they had captured Reggie, thus making his actions basically nought. He never saw him again, and the only way he wasn’t captured as well was the girls dragging him to safety. For all he knows Reggie is still being held prisoner.

 Has anyone ever saved their life?: The Iraqi girls who dragged him to safety when he and Reggie had gone to rescue them. And plenty of his mates had taken literal bullets for him during their deployment.

Strongest childhood memory?: Immigrating to Australia. He remembers being woken up late at night to be told his father had been told to station there with the Carabinieri, and he remembers excitedly packing his things with drooping, sleepy eyes, wondering about the new possibilities he would be faced with. He remembers being able to sit first class on their way over, eating his first croissant (it was filled with gooey chocolate and topped with sweet raspberries). He remembers being carried to their new temporary accommodations after not sleeping the whole trip over, and then proceeding to sleep for a straight 16 hours.

 Love

Do they believe in love at first sight?: Not particularly; he feels there needs to be an intimate connection beforehand for the love to actually be meaningful.

 Are they in a relationship?: He recently broke up with fiancée, and is looking more for companionship rather than an actual relationship.

 What is their sexuality?: He’s not really sure; he’s had girlfriends before, but he feels he like men as well. He’s not overtly sexual (he does have sex and will passionately do so when in the moment, but his libido is low at all other times).

 How do they behave in a relationship?: He finds himself acting rather awkwardly no matter how long he has been with the person, and he behaves pleasantly until he’s been drinking, which is a major problem for him that he is now trying to fix by not touching the stuff.

 When did you character last have sex?: He picked up a stripper from a local bar not long after his breakup and took them to his flat to pay them for their trouble.

 What sort of sex do they have?: It’s usually rough and violent. It’s what could be considered orthodox.

 Has your character ever been in love?: He considered himself to have been, but he sometimes wonders, if he really had been, why had he ended up hurting them? He hadn’t wanted to, but why did it take just drinking for that to come out? It must have been waiting under the surface. He hates himself for this.

 Have they ever had their heart broken?: His first girlfriend had been told by her parents to break up with him as they didn’t want her to be around him. He used his first cigarette afterwards.

 Conflict

How do they respond to a threat?: Mostly he tries to stay level-headed, but certain situations leave him terrified and unable to think or act rationally.

 Are they most likely to fight with their fists or their tongue?: Mostly he fights with his words, but tends to react physically when those he cares about are put into question.

 What is your character’s kryptonite?: His family, most notably his siblings.

 If your character could only save one thing from their burning house, what would it be?: From his childhood home, his siblings, and from his current flat, his dog Private.

 How do they perceive strangers?: He tries to see them as potential friends, but truthfully sees them as potential threats.

 What do they love to hate?: America ( in a playful way).

 What are their phobias?: Waking up back on the battlefield. Loud noises. Anything approaching him fast.

What is their choice of weapon?: Beretta Model 1915-19 pistol.

 What living person do they most despise?: The man to have set off the grenades that disabled him.

 Have they ever been bullied or teased?: He was lightly teased for his accent when he attended the rest of his primary schooling and his secondary schooling.

 Where do they go when they’re angry?:  To a park close to his flat where he turns up music loud and runs along the path, always leading to the gym.

 Who are their enemies and why?: Many of his clients view him as an enemy, as he can be what gets them in jail.

  Work, Education and Hobbies

What is their current job?: Forensic Criminologist.

 What do they think about their current job?: It’s a meaningful passion to him, but it can be rather stressful.

 What are some of their past jobs?: He had an eight year stint in the army, and then worked as a barista and a janitor while studying criminology in university.

 What are their hobbies?: He enjoys drawing and working with paints. He enjoyed training his dog to be a serviceable disability working dog. He enjoys dead lifting and going on runs with Private.

 Educational background?: He started school in Italy and then continued with it until Grade 12 while in Australia, and then undertook study in Criminology at the University of Queensland.

 Intelligence level?: He is highly intelligent, as evidenced by his career achievements.

 Do they have any specialist training?: The History of Crime and Abnormal Psychology.

 Do they have a natural talent for something?: He’s incredibly skilled at painting and drawing, and he uses this to his advantage by selling them at some markets and conventions.

 Do they play a sport? Are they any good?: He enjoys dead lifting and running, and he’s very good at it.

 What is their socioeconomic status?: Middle upper class.

Favourites

What is their favourite animal?: Goats, especially the ones with the biggest horns, and deer.

 Which animal to they dislike the most?: Any type of snake.

 What place would they most like to visit?: He would like to go back to his hometown, Treviso someday.

 What is the most beautiful thing they’ve ever seen?: His baby sister being brought home for the first time.

 What is their favourite song?: Bernadette (IAMX).

 Music, art, reading preferred?: Music: Electronic dance and jazz. Art: Realistic paintings and cartoon-y style. Reading: Mystery and thriller.

 What is their favourite colour?: Orange.

 What is their password?: The combination to his old school locker.

 Favourite food: Anything gluten-containing, and anything green. He’s not generally a picky eater, but really the only thing he won’t stand are frozen meals, reminding him too much of MRE’s.

 What is their favourite work of art?: The Creation of Adam.

 Who is their favourite artist?: Michelangelo.

 What is their favourite day of the week?: Thursday.

  Possessions

What is in their fridge: It’s stocked with fruit and vegetables mainly, and other general items.

 What is on their bedside table?: A digital clock, a picture of him in his army uniform, a pocket watch his dad gave to him, letters his family sent him while in combat, his current book, a pack of cigarettes, his cilice, prescription pain killers, and his phone.

 What is in their car?: He keeps his car rather clean, but does have some old coffee cups in there along with a cross hanging by his mirror that he touches every time before driving and some old CD’s.

 What is in their bin?: Rubbish, failed notes and sketches.

 What is in their purse or wallet?: Money, driver’s license, debit card, his work ID, a pack of cigarettes, some chewing gum wrappers, other’s business cards, lip balm, over-the-counter pain killers, caffeine patches.

 What is in their pockets?: His phone, a pack of cigarettes, chewing gum wrappers, spare change.

What is their most treasured possession?: The family letters sent to him while in combat.

 Spirituality

Who or what is your character’s guardian angel?: He considers Reggie, his younger sister Bella, and Private to be.

Do they believe in the afterlife?: He believes in Heaven and Hell.

 What are their religious views?: He has Christian faith.

 What do they think heaven is?: Whatever Heaven would be to the specific person, exactly what it is they’ve always wanted. A perfect version of their happy place. For him this would be back in his home town with his family.

 What do they think hell is?: Whatever Hell would be to the specific person, exactly what they can’t stand. For him this would be him trying to escape from enemy lines, having to disabled over and over again.

 Are they superstitious?: Not really.

 What would they like to be reincarnated as?: He fancies the idea of coming back as a deer stag.

 How would they like to die?: Either to die of old age, or murdered on the job. He would more than happy to give his life for justice.

 What is your character’s spirit animal?: A woodpecker that he repeatedly hallucinated seeing on the battlefield, native to Italy but nowhere to be found in Afghanistan. It gave him the strength to keep going, to one day be able to see one in person again.

 What is their zodiac sign?: Gemini.

 Values

What do they think is the worst thing that can be done to a person?: Take away their dignity.

 What is their view of ‘freedom’?: To do as the white male can. They are free in most every aspect of life, and while there are some things that shouldn’t be tolerated from anyone no matter what race, he sees freedom as everyone having the same right as ‘the desirables’.

 When did they last lie?: When he told Bella he had been cutting back on his smoking on their biweekly phone call a few weeks back.

 What’s their view of lying?: He wishes to be seen as such a beacon of positivity that he would rather lie to keep that charade up. He hates how many times he has been the cause of other’s pain, and even for smaller things, he never wants to be the one to make someone hurt if he can possibly help it.

 When did they last make a promise?: He promised the last victim of the crime he was working on that he would do everything he could to make sure they got the proper justice they deserved.

 Did they keep or break their last promise?: He was successful in testifying against the criminal, and getting the victim the appropriate treatment and help.

 Daily life

What are their eating habits?: He eats cleanly on most days and has a cheat day on Thursday.

 Do they have any allergies?: He gets hay-fever and gets sinus infections easily.

 Describe their home: His flat is a very good size and is kept mostly clean except for his study, which is always chaotic as this is where he brings all his case work when he goes home. He decorates conservatively, but does have some personal flares around the flat, such as framed TV show posters in his lounge area, some assorted knick-knacks on the kitchen counter, plush pillows on his lounge etc.

 Are they minimalist or a clutter hoarder?: He’s more minimalist than clutterer, but he’s not really either.

 What do they do first thing on a weekday morning?: He prays on the floor and applies his cilice.

 What do they do on a Sunday afternoon?: This is the time he sets aside for his artwork, and so goes to his tiny studio to paint/draw.

 What do they do on a Friday night?: He goes to the gym for an hour, jogs home, takes a shower, and makes dinner, eating it in front of the TV and heading into his study to pour over his work from the week.

 What is the soft drink of choice?: Lemonade.

 What is their alcoholic drink of choice?: He tries not to drink, but Rum and Coke, or White Liquor.

 Miscellaneous

What is their character archetype?: The Caregiver/The Optimist.

 Who is their hero?: His dad.

 What or who would your character dress up as for Halloween?: The Cat in the Hat (lol).

 Are they comfortable with technology?: He has to be with his job.

 If they could save one person, who would it be?: Bella.

 If they could call one person for help, who would it be?: His work friend, ‘Dr’ Michelle Rodney.

 What is their favourite proverb?: Far d’una mosca un elefante (To make an elephant out of a fly).

 What is their greatest extravagance?: He likes to live modestly, but it would be all of his art supplies and his studio.

 What is their greatest regret?: His army stint.

 What is their perception of redemption?: When the actions speak louder than their words. Talk is cheap and tell nothing of disposition.

 What would they do if they won the lottery?: Take a trip first class back to his hometown to spend a few months with his family, and Private would have only the best toys and treats~

 What is their favourite fairytale?: The Three Billy Goats Gruff.

 What fairytale do they hate?: The Little Mermaid.

 Do they believe in happy endings?: The idea of happily ever after doesn’t really exist, and while he accepts that once you’ve gotten that ‘fairy tale ending’ things will most probably never be that happy again, it also doesn’t have to be downhill from there. A large part of happiness is what you make, and waiting for the hill to slope in the sun is sometimes as bad as tumbling down it in the dark. Every day counts, and right now he hopes his best day isn’t for years to come.

 What is their idea of perfect happiness?: Where he is adapted to his new physical circumstances to where it’s like he’s not disabled at all, where he can think back on his stint and not panic, with his family, with Private, living in peace at last.

 What would they ask a fortune teller?: Did Reggie ever escape, and is there any chance of him meeting someone and not fucking it up?

 If your character could travel through time, where would they go?: He would go back to before he left his family and hold them a little bit longer. Get their scent to hold stronger in his nose for when he would later need that reassurance.

 What sport do they excel at?: Deadlifting.

 What sport do they suck at?: Swimming.

 If they could have a superpower, what would they choose?: To be instantly competent at everything he attempts first try.

[space-x-cowgirl]

Y’all are gonna hate me for this but I’m bored

1. Name: Ashley.

2. Nickname(s): Ash, Stinks.

3. Birthday: June 26’th.

4. That makes you (age): 21.

5. Where were you born (city): Manchester NH.

6. Location right now (planet :lol:): My moms apartment.

7. Shoe size: 9 1/2.

8. How many piercings?: 1.

9. Tattoos?: None.

10. When you wake up you're: Bitchy.

11. When your about to sleep you're: Restless.

12. Zodiac sign: Cancer.

13. Chinese sign: No idea.

14. Righty or Lefty: Righty.

15. Innie or Outie: Outie.

16. School: I graduated high school from Pembroke Academy.

Section Two: Looks

17. Nationality: White.

18. Hair colour: Black.

20. Weight: 120.

21. Height: 5’4.

22. Braces? No.

23. Glasses? Yes.

Section Three: Private Life

24. Do you have a boy/girlfriend? I have both.

25. If so, who? None ya.

26. If not, do you have a crush on someone? N/A.

27. Who has a crush on you? Hopefully my girlfriend and boyfriend.

28. Ever cheated on your bf/gf? Yes.

29. Who was your first kiss: Ben Krygeris.

30. Who was your last kiss: Tristyn.

31. Are you a virgin? No.

32. Ever had a threesome before? Yes.

33. NQ- Every been swarmed by ladybugs?: No

34. Have you ever been in love? Yes.

35. Broken any hearts? Yes.

36. Got your heart broken? Yes.

37. Ever liked a friend? Yes.

38. What happened? He liked me too but it didn’t work out.

Section Four: Past Relationships

39. How many relationships have you been in? Like 10.

40. How many were serious enough to count: 3.

41. Who were those serious ones: Evan, Austin, Tristyn.

42. NQ- Who used to be your best friend: Tianna.

43. What made them different: She was there for me through. Very hard time in my life.

44. What happened: I had a thing with her brother and when it didn’t work our she cut me out of her life.

45. Best boy/girlfriend: Current.

46. Worst boy/girlfriend:. Not answering this.

47. Ever been kissed: Duh?

48. Who do you want back: My cat.

49. Who do you regret: Losing my cat.

50. Why?: I miss him more than anything.

Section Five: Favourites

51. Song: Degenerates by A Day to Remember.

52. Movie: The Little Mermaid.

53. Food: Chicken.

54. Drink: Pepsi.

55. Store: None.

56. Television show: Rugrats.

57. Holiday: Christmas.

58. Book: The Glass Castle.

59. Ice cream: Mint.

60. Sweets: Anything chocolate.

61. Crisps: Cheetos or smart food.

62. Type of music: All.

63. Artist: None.

64. Word: Penis.

65. Time of day: Night.

66. Dressing: None.

67. Alcoholic drink: I don’t drink.

68. Colour(s): Purple.

69. Piece of clothing: Pj’s.

70. Character: None.

71. Smell: Any cleaning product or gasoline.

72. Shampoo: Idk.

73. Soap: Idk.

74. Smiley: 🤷🏻‍♀️

75. Board game: Uno.

76. Sport: None.

77. Number: 48.

78. Quote: None.

79. Animal: Cat, Sloth.

80. Actor: Leonardo DiCaprio.

82. Vegetable: None.

83. Fruit: Apple or grapes.

84. Place to be: My bed.

85. Thing in your room: My bed or my Xbox.

86. Gum: Juicy Fruit.

87. Shape: None.

88. Country: USA I guess.

89. Mall: None.

90. Car: Jeep Wrangler.

91. Boy's name: Oliver

92. Girl's name: Aela.

93. Family member: My mom or my sister.

94. Restaurant: Poor Boys.

95. Movie place: None.

96. Person to go to the movies with: None.

97. Noise: Paper crinkling.

98. Brand of shoe: Vans.

99. Brand of clothing: Idk.

100. Body part of a chicken: Not sure.

101. Swear word: Fuck.

102. Month: May.

103. Possession: Phone I guess.

104. Team: None.

105. Season: Spring.

106. Radio station: None.

107. Magazine: None.

108. Favourite grade: None.

109. Least favourite grade: 9’th.

110. Teacher: Mr.Millete.

111. Least favourite teacher: Mrs.cunningham.

112. Subject: History.

113. Subject to talk about: Video games or cats.

Section Six: Family

114. Who's your mum?: Michelle.

115. Who's your dad?: Eric.

116. Any step-parents?: Yes.

117. Any brothers?: A half brother.

118. Any Sisters?: A sister and a step sister.

120. Coolest: Me.

121. Loudest: Me.

122. Best relative: My gramma.

123. Worse relative: My stepmom.

124. Do you get along with your parents? Yes.

125. With your siblings? Mostly.

126. Does anyone understand you? My mom.

127. Do you have any pets?: 5 cats and 5 dogs, and a hamster.

128. If so, what kind and name? For cats it’s Jack, Sophie, Pizza, Opie, and Tig. For dogs it’s Piper, Duncan, Bree, Bean, and Lily. And my hamsters name is Sherbet.

129. If not, what do you want as a pet?: N/A.

Section Seven: School

131. Are you still in school? No.

132. Did you drop out?: Yes.

133. Your current GPA: No idea.

134. Do you buy or bring lunch?: Bought.

135. ABC's?: Yes?

136. Favorite class: History or pottery.

137. Play any sports at school?: Basketball.

138. Are you popular? No.

139. Favourite memory: my last day when I dropped out.

140. Most humiliating moment: Ehen I got stoned and beat a girl up.

141. Most funniest moment: Not sure.

142. Most scared moment: When a kid brought a gun to school.

Section Eight: What do you think of when you hear

145. Chicken: Tendies.

146. Dog: Cat.

147. Christina Aguilera: Familt Guy.

148. Ricky Martin: Nothing.

149. 50 cent: Rapper.

150. Poop: Pee.

151. Beach: Sand.

152. Desert: Cookie.

153. Water: Hot.

154. Osama: Bin Laden.

155. Love: Hate.

156. Your little brother: Cute.

157. Butt: Hole.

158. Clowns: Ew.

159. Wonder: Cool.

16o. Brown: Black.

161. Banana: Yummy.

162. Sex: Cool.

163. Parents: Love.

164. Homosexuals: Good.

165. God: Teal.

Section Nine: Do you believe in

166. God: Yes.

167. Heaven: Yes.

168. Devil: Yes.

169. Hell: Yes.

170: Boogy man: No.

171. Closet Monsters: No.

172. Fortune tellings: Yes.

173. Magic: No.

174. Love at first sight: No

175. Ghosts: Yes.

176. Voo-doo dolls: No.

177. Reincarnation: No.

178. Yourself: No.

Section Ten: Do you

179. Smoke: Yes.

180. Do drugs: I smoke pot ocassionaly.

181. Drink alcohol: No.

182. Cuss: Constantly.

183. Sing in the shower: Sometimes.

184. Like school: No.

185. Want to get married: Yes.

186. Type with all of your fingers: No.

187. Think you're attractive: No.

188. Drink and drive: No.

189. Snore: When I’m sick

190. Sleep walk: No.

191. Like watching sunrises and sunsets: Yes.

Section Eleven: Have you ever

192. Flashed someone: Yes.

193. Gotten so drunk til you threw up everywhere: No.

194. Told that person how you felt: Yes.

195. Been arrested:. Almost.

196. Gone to jail or juve: No.

197. Skateboarded:. Yes.

198. Skinny dipped: Yes.

199. Rock climbed: No.

200. Killed someone: No.

201. Watched porn: Yes.

202. Gone on a road trip: Yes.

203. Went out of the country: No.

204. Talked back to an adult: Yes.

205. Broken a law:. yes.

206. Got pulled over: No.

208: Cried to get out of trouble: Yes.

209. Let a friend cry on your shoulder: Yes.

210. Kissed a brother's or sister's friend: No.

211. Kissed a friend's brother or sister: Yes.

212. Dropped something on the floor and let someone eat it anyways: No.

213. Moon someone: Yes.

214. Shop-lifted: Yes.

215. Worked at McDonald's: No.

216. Eaten a dog: No.

217. Give money to a homeless person: Yes.

218. Glued your hand to yourself: No.

219. Kissed someone of the same sex: Yes.

220. Had a one night stand: No.

221. Smoked: Yes.

222. Done drugs: Yes.

223. Lose a friend because of your ex: Yes.

224. Slap someone for being stupid: Yes.

225. Had cyber sex: Yes.