#but i have such a cute hair on standby

[tacticalprincess]

Bro… I love your writing sm. I need another/multiple docs about the Eiffel tower between Konig and Simon.. like imagine y’all are roommates and just causally fuck every weekend and get drunk lmao.

Need that in my life. Anyway. Have a great day and stay hydrated 🫶🏻

simon x afab!f!reader x könig

you’re all pleasantly buzzed and warm from distributing a bottle around between the three of you — though they may have skipped their turns a few times when you weren’t paying attention — and somehow it became your turn to be passed around their broad laps. they already have to restrain themselves from being all over you sober, but the more alcohol that passes through their system, the greedier their hands tend to get. not that you mind, your inhibitions lowered meant feeling especially touchy and horny, letting yourself bask in the feeling of being groped by and made out with by your two doting, giant men.

“i got first tonight,” simon heaves out, smiling at the way your kiss-swollen lips trail after his, the way you mewl cutely at the loss of contact. he pats your hip. “gotta break ‘er in and all that. ‘s been a while, hasn’t it, sweetheart?”

“you got first the last three times. don’t need you boring her to sleep before i get to her again.” könig brushes your hair out of your face gingerly, heart clenching at the way you drunkenly preen into his touch. “not that she’d mind.”

“think the phrase you’re lookin’ for is ‘wearin’ her out’…”

they’re talking about you like you’re not there, and it really should be degrading, but you like the fact that you can turn your brain off when they’re around, trusting them to take care of you, making all the decisions while you sit pretty and take what they decide to give you. at least until their arguing gets to be too annoying, and you’re forced to step in and put them in check.

“why don’t we ask her?” könig’s suggestion makes you tune back into their conversation.

simon hums in agreement like he just remembered you could talk. “who would you like first, darling?”

“mmm.“ you search your muddled brain for a coherent response under the overwhelming pressure from their undivided attention. the smell of strong liquor on their breath and heady musk radiating from their bodies clouds your senses, warming your abdomen. you glance between the two of them, vision a little fuzzy around the edges, and gasp suddenly, “why not both?”

they both raise a curious brow at each other. “bit late to prep you for anal, baby. gotta give us a notice.” an endeared laugh pushes its way out of simon’s throat.

“no… both of you here.” you giggle, moving his large hand from your hip to cup your mound through your panties.

könig curses in german under his breath, dizzy with how much of his blood rushes south as he adjusts his pants.

“standby, soldier.” simon shoots a warning glance at him like talking down a tiger ready to pounce. he looks down at where your hands connect just under your womb. “this little cunt can barely fit me, what makes you think she can take both of us at the same time?”

the gravity of your request doesn’t quite register for you as you shrug a shoulder, smiling. “‘m a big girl, si. you won’t break me.”

“sounds like a challenge, maus.”

[mimi-cee-genshin]

A Slight of Hand Makes Colour - Lyney x f!reader

Summary: You think Lyney hates you. He's never used his charm on you. Lynette's response? If you look behind his ear, just under the stands of his hair, the answer will magically appear. (A cute and heartwarming getting together fic that I hope will make you smile.)

Other info: fluff, cute, some hurt/comfort, some pining, family, getting together, yes I know it's "sleight of hand", 2.5k words

*****

"Does Lyney hate me?"

You sat in front of the cafe with Lynette, enjoying a late night drink, and typically you'd be enjoying the silence and scenery together. But your thoughts slipped out of your mouth before you could snatch them back, ruining the peaceful moment you were having.

"Forget what I said," you said, eyes darting back to your drink.

Lynette placed her cup down and put a new cake slice on her plate. "Why do you ask?" she said with no hint of shock on her face.

"No. It was a stupid question." You took a sip, hoping she'd drop the topic.

"I see… Have you finally begun to wonder why Lyney has never used his charm on you?" she asked.

Your drink went down your throat the wrong way and you began to cough. "How did you know?" you asked, a little embarrassed.

"I could tell from how you were eyeing him as he welcomed our newest guest," she explained.

Nothing got past Lynette. You knew better than to try to hide anything from her. You'd often wondered if her greatest talent was actually reading minds.

She was right. You had never noticed the slight difference in Lyney's behavior towards you, even though you had known the twins for a long time now. He had always treated you with care and respect, but lately, you felt ill whenever he showered others with his suave words. You used to be happy just to see him smile.

You sighed, knowing exactly why you felt this way. You just didn't want to admit it.

"I think it's the right time to tell you this," Lynette said.

"Hm?" you asked. "Tell me what?"

"There's a reason why Lyney acts differently around you," she said.

You raised your brow, but you placed your cup down anyway and to listen for her next words.

"I'll give you a hint," she said. "If you look behind his ear, just under his strands of hair, you might figure out why he treats you this way."

What? It was always hard to tell what Lynette was thinking because of the lack of emotion on her face. But even if she'd crack a joke once in a while, she wouldn't do so when you had a genuine concern.

Lynette took another sip of her cup and returned back to standby mode, drifting somewhere within the stars.

You weren't sure what to make of her comment

*****

It was four in the afternoon and the workshop needed to be cleaned before you could start any work. You took the vacuum, which Lynette fortunately didn't break yet, and removed the sawdust on the floor from this morning.

Next, you wiped down the workshop's two-way mirror, knowing Lyney would need it to test another trick today. The majority of the cleaning fell on you, which you didn't mind. You used to be a maid after all – a maid to a cold and cruel mistress. You had never expected to see the twins again after her downfall.

Lyney walked to the entrance after the doorbell had rung and greeted the lady here for a delivery. You smiled as he chatted up a storm with her, always happy to meet new people, and he even added a magic trick to top it off.

"And that concludes today's mini show," he said, returning his hat on his head. "With your lovely shirt and trousers, I hope to see your excellent style at my next performance."

Ah. Another compliment, another knot in your stomach.

At the door, Lyney received the package which reached just above his eyes when he carried it. You placed your rag down and got the other package that was left at the front door.

"Thank you, Y/n," he said with a smile.

It was a short and simple statement of appreciation, which you typically didn't mind. Yet, he didn't say, 'Thank you. Whatever would I do without you.' Nor did he say, 'You're just as reliable as always. Why, I must ensure that you never leave us!' You'd often hear these words when he talked to your co-workers.

But not with you.

You placed the package on the table beside the retrofitted vase and the room went quiet. The two of you typically didn't mind a comfortable silence, but today felt different. You went on with your work anyway, cleaning up the scraps on the work table as Lyney worked at his desk. He didn't even hum a tune as he usually did when the others were around. It was only silent with you.

You sighed, thinking you would've noticed earlier if you were as observant as Lynette. You weren't sure if the subtle difference in behavior was something you should be concerned about.

Once you were done cleaning, you peeked over Lyney's shoulder as he sketched out a mechanism he'd need for a trick. He smiled at you and pointed to the drawing, explaining to you how the system worked.

"But if I place this gear here, its axel would obstruct the door of the hidden compartment," he told you. "I'm not really sure how to solve this one."

"I see…" you said, pulling out a stool beside him. "You said the axel needs to be at least an inch long... Could you add a slot for it on the door itself?"

He placed his pencil's end on his cheek. "That could work since it's hidden anyway," he said.

He continued to alternate between thinking and drawing, often erasing his paper and even getting another sheet to redraw it. You had always admired the work he put into his shows. You enjoyed watching him passionate about his craft.

"If you look behind his ear, just under his strands of hair, you might figure out why he treats you this way," Lynette had said.

You lifted your hand up to brush his hair away from his right ear.

Lyney's pencil stopped moving and his hand was frozen in place. "W-what are you doing, Y/n?"

You were right. There was nothing there. You didn't expect anything, but you thought maybe there could've been a secret magic trick the twins set up for you. There was nothing of that sort.

And then you saw it.

"Lyney, why is your ear…"

His hand rushed to cover his ear. "I-It just turns red sometimes. That's all," he explained. "It's unfortunate that most of my tricks are done at a distance, so I don't have any plans to create tricks that involve me turning red."

"What are you even talking about–"

His hand… He was tapping his finger and counting down from five. Lyney would only do this to activate his 'performance mode', when he needed to calm his nerves.

"Lyney, is there something wrong–"

"Oh, would you look at the time... The sun is about to set," he said, leaving his chair.

"Lyney, wait!"

Crash!

The pieces from the broken vase were scattered next to your knees and under the table. Memories flooded back of your mistress's twisted scowl and piercing eyes, and you quickly bowed your head and apologized. Your breathing became shallow and your eyes didn't leave the floor.

A fan of cards appeared in front of your face.

"Now you see them, and now you…"–he pulled the cards together–"Hey, hold on a moment, why didn't the vase disappear?" Lyney said before sighing. "I guess we'll have to do it the old fashioned way."

You looked up to see Lyney's smile and outstretched hand.

"Would you like to be my assistant for today?"

You had never forgotten how you first met Lyney. Two magicians on a secret mission and your mistress and her husband had a lot to hide. And yet, Lyney had taken the time to redirect your mistress's anger and given you a hand, just like he was doing now.

You took his hand and stood to your feet, not once leaving your eyes from his.

"Now, where were… uh…" he said, breaking eye contact. He released his grip from you hand, but you held him even tighter. "You're not going to let go, are you?" he said, running his hand on the back of his neck.

"No," you said. "I'm not."

You wanted an answer. You wanted to hear it – that this man in front of you was attracted to you. A wonderful magician who won you over not only because of his magic tricks and charisma, but also because of his kindness, hard work, and love for his siblings. And yet this same person whom you admired all this time had the tips of his ears burning red at your gentle touch.

"Lyney…" you managed to say. "Do you like me?"

He sighed and laughed a little. "I guess the cat's out of the bag. There isn't a way for me to escape out of this one, is there?"

You shook your head.

He gave you a gentle smile. "Do you remember our second meeting?" he said. "When you showed up at our rendezvous point?"

Panic had covered his face when he saw you instead of Lynette, his posture revealing he wouldn't hesitate to attack you if you had harmed her in any way. You had to quickly explain how you hid Lynette in a storage room after she almost blew her cover.

"You had come up with a detailed plan that helped Lynette escape and sacrificed your own food for her as she hid. And you did all of this while you were terrified of your mistress. How could I not have fallen for you then and there?"

You had never realized that Lynette noticed you gave her your food. You would've done it for anyone, knowing what the punishment would've been if she was caught.

"Anyway, that's the story of my one-sided love. We should really fix up the vase that had fallen earlier," he said, quickly returning to the scattered pieces.

"Lyney, but…"

"Be careful now, or you might get hurt. I wouldn't want to see any tears on that beautiful face of yours–" His eyes saw the mirror behind you before he covered his face. "Um… pretend you didn't see that."

You grabbed his face and pulled it back, observing his red blush up close.

"Uh…" he said, eyes darting away. "What are you doing–"

"You know, I wondered why you never used your smooth words on me," you told him. "Why did you hide it?"

He took your hands from his face and placed them back by your sides. "Nothing good would come out of it," he said with a sigh. "Especially with my association with the Fatui."

"And what if I want to take the risk?" you said, still clinging onto his hand.

"What?"

"You've always meant a lot to me Lyney, even before my feelings turned romantic," you told him. "I've taken risks for you before. And I'm willing to do it again."

He lifted his other hand to fix a strand of hair on your head, gently pushing it back and getting a better look at your face. "You shouldn't do that to yourself, Y/n. You deserve more than that."

"We can work together," you said. "Just like we always have."

He pulled his hand out of your grip. "I… I can't," he told you. "I can't do it. How…" His voice wavered as he turned away from you. "How can I take care of you too?"

A door clicked open and you turned to look behind you. Lynette had walked into the workshop from the other room.

"Oh…" Lyney looked at her with a nervous smile. "Did you see all of that?"

Lynette pointed to the two-way mirror. You wouldn't be surprised if she heard the whole conversation.

"Lyney," she said. "Do you remember when we jumped off the cliff, and you shielded my fall before going unconscious?"

"What?" he said, turning towards her. "How could I forget? That was the day you received your vision."

Lynette placed her hand on her chest. "You've taken care of me so much for as long as I could remember," she said. "But I love you too and care dearly for Y/n as well. So if any issues arise because of your relationship with her, let me help. I'll protect you."

"I…" Lyney lowered his eyes.

"I'll be alright, because as always…" she began.

"... Lynette is by my side," Lyney finished. Yet his shoulders sagged. "I… I don't know Lynette. What if something goes horribly wrong? I don't want Y/n to take the fall too."

"Don't worry," she told him, shaking her head. "I've already gotten some ideas to get you two out of any sticky situation. Keep it a secret as long as possible and I'll prepare for any contingency plans for whatever comes up."

"I'm still not so sure…" he said.

"Both of you are also discreet and know how to keep secrets," she continued. "The rest of the family would be excited and 'Father' would be fine with it as long as she doesn't hinder any missions. We both know that won't be a problem."

You stared at Lynette, amazed she thought all of this through. She really wanted this to work out, wanted us to work out.

Lyney placed his hand on his chin and thought for a long while. Both you and Lynette gave him a chance to think and didn't mind the silence he needed.

"So what's your plan?" he finally asked.

"For now, the biggest issue is that Lyney needs to figure out how to stop blushing." Lynette turned to you. "I figured that giving you the hint would get Lyney the help he needed with that."

"You gave her a hint?" exclaimed Lyney. "About my blushing? Lynette… I told you to keep it a secret."

"It was going to show sooner or later," she said. "Better here in the workshop than in public."

"Oh Lynette…" Lyney whined. "I can't believe you were the one who started this."

The tips of your mouth tugged back into a grin, seeing Lyney's arms relax a little. "So is that all he needs to do?" you asked. "Just stop blushing?"

"It's not that easy," Lyney said, a bit embarrassed. "Which was why I've been cautious with my words around you."

"Then why don't you practice now?" you said with a smile.

"What?"

"Practice flirting me until you can stop going red."

"I… uh…"

"What? Is the great magician who's a master at winning hearts actually at a loss for words?" you teased.

"I can't help it. You leave me breathless," he whined, sounding more like a complaint than a flirty remark. Yet his face turned red once again. He looked up at the two way mirror behind you and covered his face with both hands. "Okay, I need help," he said through his fingers.

"Keep practicing on me," you said with a smile.

"Can't we start tomorrow?"

"Nope. You need to make up for all the times I got jealous."

"You got jealous?"

You giggled as you scooped up his hand. "Of course I did. I just wish Lynette had given me the hint earlier."

*****

I hope you liked it. Please check out my other fics if you're interested. :)

[lovexjoe]

How would Armando be if he thought the reader was sweet cute never hurt anyone or a fly but when they are partnered up to go on a mission she the opposite… please do this

Damsel In Distress

A.N: This one is gonna be fun! Y/N will be used as bait for a mission, but Armando doesn't realize she can hold her own. The karambit scene from Bad Boys For Life, Y/N takes the place of Armando with some dialogue changed. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nHQFzABygCI

Warnings: Violence, some fluffy fluff

Y/N POV

Armando and I have been arguing all morning and afternoon. I don't get what his problem is, he's treating me like a child.

"¿Estás loca? ¡No lo vas a hacer!" (Are you crazy? You're not doing it!)

"Im doing it and that's final!" You stormed out the house.

You guys haven't made things official yet and it's fights like this that reminds you this relationship might be a ticking timebomb. Since I've been partnered with him, he doesn't let me get in on ANY of the fun. I am talking I look like a damsel in distress even AMMO squad laughs about it.

"I think he has a crush on you. It's kinda cute" Kelly teases you as you finish up some of the files that needed to get done for the team. No one really knew what was happening behind the scenes.

"Thinks? Oh he definitely does" Rita says.

"I am sorry in advance that my son is a pain in the ass" Mike shakes his head.

"Advance? You a little late on the apology Mike. This boy been a pain in the ass since we partnered them up!" Marcus adds in.

Everyone chimes their opinion in till the room went silent due to Armando walking in.

"I don't think Y/N should be used as bait tonight, it's not safe" He leans against the wall with everyone trying to suppress their laughter.

Armando really does not know who you are. Yes, your exterior may look sweet and innocent, but out of the whole AMMO squad: you're the deadliest. Which is why you stick to the tech stuff until they really needed you. Mike and Marcus pulled him aside to have a talk: good luck cause he never listens.

Armando POV

This girl drives me insane. Someone as innocent and sweet as her just READY to jump in the fire. Mike and Marcus try to be the voice of reason, but I really wasn't trying to listen. If anything or anyone touches a hair on her head, I'm putting a bullet through them and not thinking twice.

"Mando listen, I understand and I am genuinely surprised that you care, but I promise just stay on standby and watch from the overhead." Armando shoots Mike a glare knowing he wasn't going to win this one regardless so he decided he'll just be on sniper watch.

As it started to get dark outside, we loaded up everything we needed. Y/N was geared up and she looked gorgeous. This women drives me completely insane, but I'd do anything for her. We parked in our hideout spot and started exiting out the van. I grabbed Y/N's hand.

"Listen, just signal me if you need help. " I pulled her close and placed a kiss on her forehead, then proceeded to set up my sniper in the designated area.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚❋ ❋ ❋˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚❋ ❋ ❋˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Y/N walks to the pinpoint location, meeting up with the drug dealers. She brought her favorite little karambit with her. She warned Marcus and Mike that it might get bloody. These idiots knowing she's a female they're going to try to ambush her. Mike said as long as the leader isn't killed, everything else goes under the radar.

"Karina!" The leader calls out cheerfully. You drop the bag filled with fake money on the floor ignoring his gesture for a hug. Armando lurking from his position, taking quick glimpses of how gorgeous you looked right now.

"We're so sorry to have to do this to you Karina. But your services are no longer needed" 6 men started to slowly close in on you. Armando positions his finger on the trigger, ready to take the leader out and fuck this whole case up. Your safety means more than any case and he'd gladly go back to prison for you. Right as he's about to pull the trigger, Mike says over the intercom to just sit back and enjoyed the show. Armando was confused as you snatched the gun from the leaders hand, placing a bullet in each of his knees and uppercutting him: knocking him out cold. Nap time! You took out your karambit and everything went black. You didn't know what happened in between, but when you came back to your senses your karambit was shoved into the mouth of one of this drug dealer's minions. With 6 bloody bodies surrounding you. You turned to Armando and said

"Oops" You wink.

"That's what im talking about!" Mike and Marcus cheered. Rita and the rest of the AMMO squad came out to wrap everything up. You headed back to the van. Armando was shocked for sure. Turned on? Majorly. Sweet and innocent was DEFINITELY not the words used to describe you anymore. You heard the door of the van open, seeing its your favorite partner in the world.

"You okay mami? I don't want any problems." He slowly creeps in with his hands up, teasing you.

"Yes I'm fine" You chuckled as he pulls you close.

"Yes, you most definitely are" He leans down placing a kiss on your lips.

[eddiemunsons-missingnipple]

Time of the month

Eddie Munson x reader

Summary: You started your period, and Eddie tries to help.

Warnings: fluff, menstruation, mention of sex.

A/n: Not proofread. no minors allowed.

The front door slamming startles you in your spot, huddled in various blankets and pillows. Eddie scans the dark living room in search of you until his eyes land on your figure. There you were hidden beneath all sorts of fluffy blankets with the ever curtain closed.

He laughs to himself, "Hey sweetheart, I'm home."

You look over to him, faking a smile. "Hi."

Eddie frowns." What's wrong? "

"Got my period." You murmured.

He pouts out his bottom lip, moving closer, sitting next to you. "Anything I can do?"

You shake your head no, leaning over to lay your head on his chest. Immediately, Eddie wrapped his arms around you.

"I heard sex can be the cure." He half joked.

You groaned, hiding your face. "Eddie!"

He lets out a belly laugh and moves to stand bending down to give you a quick kiss. He kicked off his boots and placed them by the door.

"M'just playin." He smirked.

"No, you weren't." You pouted.

His smirks grew wider as he watched you."Yeah, you're right, doesn't hurt to try."

If you weren't in the state you are right now, he'd call you cute, but he knows better.

"You sure? I can really pound those cramps outta ya." He joked again, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

All you could was groan at his attempt to make you laugh.

Eddie is in a playful mood, and you were absolutely not. Your cramps had you hunching over in pain. You went through three pairs of panties after bleeding through them by accident. The last thing on your mind is sex. You know he's really just joking deep down, but the thought makes you wince a little. You've been in the same position all day. Huddled under numerous blankets you could find with a heating pad on standby.

He puts his hands on his hips, looking around his trailer. You could tell he's trying to come up with a solution to your problem. Unfortunately, the only solution is dealing with it for four days until it's gone.

Eddies' coveralls were covered in grease from the dirty cars he'd been fixing all day. You could see some of the grease smudged on his neck and face. His five o'clock shadow thickening up around his jaw. If it wasn't for your period, you'd definitely would take him up on his offer. You always thought he looked good on a daily basis. But there was something about how he looked after coming home from a long day at work that made you want to jump on him.

"Wanna take a shower with me?" Eddie spoke softly.

Your face softened, and the pout that was close to being permanent on your face disappeared. "Yea."

"After we clean up, I'm gonna order out and rub your back. You like that?" Eddie walked over to help you stand. Taking your hands into his.

"Mmhmm--id like that a lot, but you don't have to." You tried to argue feeling slightly guilty.

A back rub sounded like heaven, but he's been at work all day. The last thing he should be doing is waiting on your hand and foot. You were perfectly fine resuming what you've been doing all day anyway.

"Ah, ah, don't start. Let me help make you feel better." His tone is gentle, but his face was serious. You knew there was no arguing your way out of this.

"Okay, can we rent a movie too?" You sighed, wrapping your arms around him in a hug.

"Of course, whatever you want." Eddie squeezed you tighter to him.

He leads you to the shower and helps you undress. You asked him about his day loving how worked up he got at his coworkers sometimes. Eddie told about how some guy came in for an oil change that ended up lasting hours since the poor man had never had one before. You washed his hair, running your nails through his scalp. He hummed every time you did that for him. You swore if he was a cat, he'd be purring right now.

"All done?" Eddie asked, moving around to block the water from hitting your face.

"All done." You smiled, playfully tugging on his chin, causing him to giggle.

"Let's get you warmed, and then I'll make you feel better for a little while." He whispered.

Eddie did as he promised. He fed you. Warmed you up in his arms as you cuddled in his lap. He rented you The Princess Bride to watch. When the movie was over, Eddie guided you to the bedroom where he rubbed your back until you finally fell asleep.

"I love you." He bent over to kiss your cheek.

"Love you too." You muffled in your pillow. You were relaxed and your cramps subsiding. Sleep overtaking your exhausted body.

[pupyuj]

HIII I’m kinda shy since its my first ask and ur my favourite writer here >.<

Can i ask for tattoo artist yujin and reader that wants to get tattoo? And Yujin gets turned on when reader makes noises during the tattooing session😫, then they fuck afterwards or during its up to you hehe, please feel free to change my plot too if you think it makes it even better 🥵

hiii!! nooo don't be shy to interacttt, you're so sweet!🥰💖 also fellow ive writer AND yujin bias?!! twin 😝💓💓

it was hard to believe for everyone when yujin decided to be a tattoo artist bcs this girl is so unbelievably clumsy!! every time she gets a new client, her housemates (our independent girl has her little parlor in her and her housemates' garage) are always there on standby just in case she fucks up 😭 but somehow she never does! and when yujinnie gets you as her client—pretty girl with the pretty eyes and pretty smile—she was extra careful! not only bcs it was ur first time getting a tattoo but also bcs... well, yujin is gay as fuck and didn't want to hurt such a cute girl like you! 🤭

every time you wince she’d be like “oh i’m sorry! 😣” but the more it happens, the more she gets so turned on by how cute you sounded… esp when she sees how embarrassed you get bcs you thought you were being so sensitive 😙 but the time she finished working on you, she was a 100% sure she wanted to fuck you before you left the garage 🫢 she knew you were hella into her too! what with how you couldn’t hold a proper conversation or eye contact before you even got on the chair, how you blushed horribly whenever yujin flirted to lighten up the mood during the session, and how you didn’t question it at all when yujin had a hand on your thigh while she instructed you on how to take care of your fresh tattoo after the session…

exactly how you ended up with your legs spread wide on her bed with her head buried deep in between your thighs making you see the stars with her tongue will forever be unknown… but you didn’t fucking complain of course 🤭 scratching at her tattooed forearm that made sure your legs were wide open for her, screaming her name so beautifully when she flicks your clit with her tongue, having to grab a fistful of her hair with your newly-tattooed hand to push her closer and practically ride her face until you came and made a mess.. but yujin wouldn’t have had it any other way! 😍

then jokes about you being “such a good girl” that she didn’t need you to pay up at all, but you still did anyway! and ofc yujin asks you to come back not to get another tattoo but bcs her ass is actually down horrendous and needs help getting up in the form of a proper date 🥰

[yeonzzzn]

thoughts on enhypen when reader is on their period and have cramps?

(i have the WORST period cramps rn im crying)

no bc I know all seven boys would be the sweetest ever while you’re on your period 🥺

✾ heeseung: would cuddle you and gently rub circles on the areas you’re cramping at, placing soft kisses to your face, neck, and shoulders. having a heating pad on stand by with ice cream ready in the freezer. he’d telling you how you’ll make it through the tough week and it’ll all be over soon enough. 100% would buy you flowers and chocolate too with cute ass love notes written with them to show his appreciation of you.

✾ jay: would go above and beyond i’m already telling you! jay would have the calendar marked and everything so the minute you start to feel the cramps and your mood slightly changes he’s ready. you’ll have flowers, teddy bears, chocolates, ice cream, anything you want, name it! because he’s getting it for you. princess treatment only with him. jay would also 100% rub your back and tummy to help ease the pain and cuddle you the entire time too.

✾ jake: is 100% the type of guy to carry around pads and tampons in his car / bag incase you need them. jake would also so baby you during that week. whether you’re lying on the couch or bed, you’ll have a heating pad on your stomach, stuffed puppy plushie that reminds you of him and a weighted blanket to cover you and he’d have you all tucked in with a portable fan on standby incase you get too hot. he’d run back and forth between the store to get you all your favorite snacks and drinks and hold you super close to him and massage every achy part of your body.

✾ sunghoon: I feel would tease you but still treat you like a queen. he’d 100% be the type to make terrible period jokes while he’s massaging your shoulders and back while having you both wrapped in a heated blanket bc why would he not want to be as close to you as possible? if you get to be a burrito he’s gonna be the burrito with you. he’d also bring you flowers an chocolate with corny ass jokes but still give you lots of kisses and say he’s proud of you for having to fight the dot for an entire week.

✾ sunoo: would so brush your hair and just straight up take care of you. sunoo I feel would be a mixture of jay and sunghoon. he’d do everything you’d ask of him but always tease and joke with you at the same time (we love our sassy sunshine). along with him brushing your hair he’s so braid it all nice and pretty and feed you chocolate and hold you from behind and just be with you.

✾ jungwon: homie would be having the time of his life, truly. your period is always a good excuse to get loads of sweets and all both yours and his favorite junk food and just sit around your living space together the whole week and cuddle and watch movies. he’d play with your hair and massage your back too and would be so gentle with you. jungwon would also ask you to share your ice cream with him even though he has his own in the freezer.

✾ niki: baby boy would keep pads and tampons in his backpack for you :( all you’d need to do is text him during class if you’ve ran out and need one and he’d be rushing out his classroom, peaking around the corner of the doorframe of your classroom with the items in hand ready to give them to you. homie wouldn’t even be embarrassed, he doesn’t care, he’s taking care of his girl and that’s all that matters to him. niki would also take you to buy ice cream and any other snacks you’d want after classes are over for the day. would 100% brush your hair and braid it for you too.

[katskitoshi]

May I please have this? https://www.tumblr.com/katskitoshi/696416151501209600/sheepy-twisted-wonderland?source=share

But instead of sheep a Bunny and with the other dorms?

Thx Love your work!!!<3

"MY CUTE LITTLE BUNNY!" with TWISTED WONDERLAND.

synopsis: you thought you would be prepared to never let another sheepy incident happen again. however, you clearly underestimate your friend's ability to ruin your life. but this time, you turn into a fluffy little bunny rather than a fluffy little sheep.

characters: riddle, trey, cater, ace, deuce, leona, ruggie, jack, azul, jade, floyd, kalim, jamil, vil, rook, epel, idia, ortho, malleus, lilia, silver, & sebek x fem! reader

you took extra precautions to try to prevent yourself in an alchemy incident. you watched each ingredient go in, stopped horse playing and petty fights, and double-triple made sure the order of each ingredient was correct. somehow, after a miscalculation or addition of some unknown substance (grim added something without telling you), your body turns into [color] smoke and you shrink down a bunch of feet.

you're no taller than grim now, with cute floppy ears, a fluffy tail, and a cute twitching nose thats flicking especially fast from stress. and just like before, you're left in the hands of the dorms as crewel looks for a way to turn you back. let's see how they do, yeah?

HEARTSLABYUL is a pretty safe place for a bunny like yourself! nice roses, cute animal friends, and nice tea parties you get to be apart of. it's easy to get lost in the twisty-turvy halls, but it's still a pretty dorm for a pretty bunny!

riddle is a pretty suitable caretaker. you're fed each meal, which is surprisingly more than carrots thanks to trey. he'll brush your fluffy coat and keep you looking as proper as possible! a nice, long bath is due after a tiring day of hanging out with the hedgehogs and flamingos, and he's pretty good at restoring your fluffy coat to it's former glory. once bed time rolls around, he'll let you take one half of his bed and he'll take the other. if you hop into his arms while he sleeps, he won't push you away. however, if you nudge at him with cute pleading bunny eyes for a bite of his tart he will. he loves you dearly, but he will not share his tart with you while you're in bunny form. that's a treat reserved only for when you're human.

trey is your sole reason for sanity. you thought you'd be fed carrots and lettuce all day, but he's able to whip your vegetables into anything you wish. carrot cake, sugar free fruit tarts, hay biscuits. any food you could think of, trey will try and most likely succeed in making it perfect for your bunny tummy. besides his amazing cooking, trey's good at grooming and reading you. he absolutely loves your little ear or nose twitches! if you're good, he'll let you help him bake or collect some ingredients. but only if you're good, okay?

pretty predictably, cater is thrilled about your transformation! it's super cute and magicammable. don't worry, he has his phone, a brush, and a cute diamond hair clip on standby as soon as you enter his care. it's time for a makeover! he'll manage your fluffy fur into a nice style with the hair clip and take a bunch of pictures. once that's done, he'll take you out to the rose garden and just talk for hours with you. he takes notice of your every reaction and pets your cute ears in response. if you couldn't tell, he loves them. but it might be obvious due to how often his hands will gravitate towards them and just fondle them. gah, you're so cute! all these pictures might overtake his sheepy one!

ace was supposed to be beheaded for his crimes, but he seems to like punishment. somehow, he got his hands on you and you're terrified. but this time, it's all for nothing. surprisingly, ace was a much better caretaker than before. he fed you and kept you out of harms way enough the survive your time with him. but ace made his time with you special. a little dream of his was to pull a rabbit out of a hat, so he used a small teleportation spell to transport you from his bed, to be slowly pulled out of his top hat. with a "ta-da~!" leaving his lips, you begged to go again! it was fun, and ace was finally not putting you in harms way so its a win win.

sweet deuce always wanted a bunny growing up. he never got one, but perhaps this mishap was a blessing in disguise. he hugged you close to his chest gently when he first got to hold you and smiled brightly. deuce is a great caretaker. he'll bring you whatever you want, even if you shouldn't eat/have it, and he'll let you play outside for a nice long time! all he asks for in return are some cute snuggles and to let him pet your ears. his dreams will come true!

perhaps letting you stay in SAVANACLAW for a bit was a mistake. it was hot and scary. the blazing sun and dry conditions were nice, but the sand blowing in your face and wool was not. oh, and not to mention you were at the bottom of the food chain here. i mean, who's brilliant idea was it to keep a prey and a dorm full of predators?

be lucky leona values human you a bit. if he hadn't, who knows what would've happened to you? maybe a big, scary beastman would snatch you up, tun you into bunny stew, and eat you for dinner with no remorse. leona'll tell you all those things to try and scare you, but sevens forbid once of the losers in his dorm lay a hand on you. then, they'll turn into beastman stew and leona will slurp them up and go right back to bed while using you as a pillow.

how adorable could you get? ruggie will chuckle at your new form, his familiar laugh and smile making you feel a bit less stressed about the situation. as usual, leona will throw ruggie some money to take care of you, only use a bit for you and pocket the rest. he still cares, so he'll even watch you frolic and play around the botanical gardens or fields of savanaclaw.

jack is such a good boy, as always. he always takes care of you and does it pretty well. nice meals and groomings obviously. he'll also let you play around outside if you get bored, or do anything your little bunny brain wants. as long as it's in reason, he'll give it at least a thought. so, to put it short: no, [name], jack will not let you go inside the microwave to see what it feels like.

when approaching OCTAVINELLE, your best decision is to hop as far as you can and as fast as you can. but unfortunately, that cannot help your poor, unfortunate bunny soul for there are eels and octopuses that stop you from going before the fun begins.

dollar signs ring in azul's head as he hears about your form. hooray! marketing! you can either sit pretty in the eating area of the lounge or in his office for private pet sessions. for the cheap price of 1000 madol, a student can pet your cute little bunny ears. besides being a marketing tool for him, he cares for you pretty well.

jade drugs you. nothing more to say than that he wanted to give you some mushrooms and well, bunnies don't fair well with them. next thing you know, you're hallucinating carrots and [favorite food] and begin chomping away at him. jade only laughs. he's an okay caretaker. but he much enjoys seeing you woozy from just a common mushroom. he really wants to see what happens to you with psychedelics.

look, when you said you wanted to go in the microwave, you were joking! floyd attempts part 2 of attempting to cook his crush. it was crazy, honestly. floyd seemed to learn no lesson! but at least your so squeezable in this form! ah, his cuteness aggression is kicking in! he's still harsh, but at least the number of injuries has decreased. so perhaps something has changed. but let's not forget of his crimes. attempted microwave cooking, attempted drowning, yanking your ears, flicking your nose, and quite a few more that will most likely not end up on his record but should.

similar to savanaclaw, SCARABIA is a dorm with great living conditions for bunnies! most of the time, the dorm members are nice and the dry ground is fun to dig in.

kalim had changed a lot since last time. he's a lot better at taking care of you. if it's too warm, he'll make a little oasis. for you to swim in or drink out of. he'll let you hop around the desert planes of scarabia but he'll most likely lose you. and when he pets you, he's a bit rough from cuteness aggression, but he loves you and treats you like royalty nonetheless.

jamil is again your main caretaker, and again one of the best people you can end up with. nice food, well taken care of, lovely head-rubs and all sorts of affections. i'd like to believe that once upon a time kalim or one of his siblings had a rabbit and it turned into jamil's responsibility to take care of it. who would've know that their negligence would help him?

hopping into POMEFIORE was lovely. the scenery was breathtaking and it smelled of fresh fruits and apples. this is one of the only dorms you can hop around and just find food lying there. nice fields to get lost in, nice waters to swim in. this dorm is like bunny heaven!

vil is a great caretaker, and he'll carry you wherever you need to go. you know this little poodle pouch bag things, vil owns one just for you. after treating your wool, whiskers, and paws and such, he'll plop you right into his little bag and stroll around pomefiore to invoke the jealous stares of his dorm mates. now, you're the prettiest bunny with the prettiest man to carry you around!

you know those fields you like to get lost in? yeah, you're never really lost because rook always has his eye on you. he loves you as a bunny dearly. taking photos at every moment or chasing you just to see your ears and nose twitch in fear. it's hilarious to him! and insane for you to think he wouldn't just love to sneak up behind you, grab you, and hold you to his chest while giving you kisses all over your little bunny head and ears. as soon as you're back in human form, he'll give you some real kisses while he forces you to look at all the cute bunny pictures he has!

sweet epel shares his apples with you. back home, he was familiar with bunnies as they'd come into the orchard and try to steal apples. he'll cut them up into cute shapes for you so you don't have to hit the trees to try to get them to fall for you. again, he'll carve you a little apple figurine of you in bunny form. epel'll share some sweet moments of just talking as he rambles into his southern accent, like he used to do back home, but instead he's just rambling onto his crush.

IGNIHYDE is freezing! but luckily you have nice thick, fluffy wool to cover you and keep you warm. it's a refreshing change from the warm weather of other dorms, but one things the other dorms were definitely better at was their natural aspects. there was barely any outdoorsy space for you to frolic in!

idia has never considered having a garden in ignihyde, but your pleading bunny eyes and downturned ears somehow convince him. next thing you know, idia's had a small garden built for you to jump around in. he even leaves his room to watch you. when you aren't in his garden, he's sit you on his desk or lap and pet your ears as he games or something. perhaps he'll even give you some pomegranates to snack on. oops! looks like you have to stay in ignihyde just a bit longer~!

ortho is darling, really. he searches the web for how to perfectly care for you and caters to your every need. he even helps convince idia to make you that garden. he'll even take you to the gardens of night raven for you to be able to play around properly, and buy you some bunny feed. overall, good job ortho! he's a good caretaker.

DIASOMNIA is a scary place for a little bunny like yourself. oh, you thought you were being towered over in other dorms? that's funny! people are like giants here, and you haven't been this scared since octavinelle.

of course, malleus was left out of the meeting that explained that you would be passing through the dorm's care. he went to ramshackle expecting you, only to find you were at his dorm! he teleports there immediately, and smiles once he get's to hold you. he didn't think you could get any smaller! malleus was more interested in stone animals than anything, but a cute breathing bunny is fun too. especially when it's his child of man.

lillia should not be left in charge to care for you. well, at first he shouldn't. he'll play the ropes a bit and is quite rough at first. pulling your ears a bit and flicking your nose a bit too hard, but he'll suddenly flip a switch and is super gentle and sweet. nice pets, kind words, the whole kindness bundle. but then, he tries to feed you. and you're certain it was all a act to get you to trust him and for him to feed you his awful food! once you're human again, he'll wonder why you have a little grudge with him, not understanding that he's nearly killed you with his food.

silver is missing in action. not a bad caretaker or a good one. but he naturally has animals gravitate to him so he barely noticed having you hop in. once he familiarizes himself with you and realizes you're not just some woodland creature, you're his friend and his crush, he'll straighten up his act a bit and make sure you're taken care of especially. although it makes the other animals jealous, silver can't help but hold you specifically while he's sleeping. it's so sweet!

sebek is okay. he's not all that familiar with animals, but can hold his own in taking care of you. you're fed pretty nice meals but not given that much affection. his cuteness aggression might kick in, so he refrains from it. he'll also try to watch his voice, because he knows it'll hurt your ears if he's too loud.

[twstedqueenvi]

What Are They Like in Bed 18+

AU Everyone is 18+ These are just some ideas I've had, subject to change as I read more of the story. Minors DNI.

Posted: 03/05/23 || Edited:--

I don't have the first years listed because honestly to me they don't give off the vibes that they fuck. They might have sex but it's more experimental and trying to figure out what they actually like in bed.

Word Count:3.2k

Heartslabyul

Book: Read

Riddle: Probably a very dedicated lover. Takes the time to learn your "rules" aka what you like and don't like. Does not fuck, like you are having sex, but it is not fucking. Lovemaking is probably a better way to put it. Can be a little selfish or aggressive when stressed. Surprisingly confident and self-assured. Excellent communication skills. Does not seem overly adventurous in normal circumstances. You'll likely have to schedule when you can have sex, he’s very busy so spontaneous sex doesn’t seem to be a thing with him. Probably has his go-to positions that he does well but not much deviation from that. However, maybe on occasion, if you've been "bad"...be prepared to be collared and relearn his rules. Not going to let you finish until he's certain you've learned your lesson. Really good with aftercare. Has snacks and refreshments on standby, helps you get cleaned up and dressed after. His room is probably really well prepared beforehand. Flower petals or just flowers, candles, music; very much so setting the mood.

Trey: He has an oral fixation. Surprisingly rough. He’s going to hold your face and make you look at him while he’s using you. Likes to see the expressions you make when he slams into you. If he’s hitting it from behind you’re getting your ass smacked and he’s probably going to use your hair as a handle or hold onto your throat; unless he’s pressing your face down into the sheets/pillows. Likely going to put you into a mating press. Does not like being called daddy, surprisingly. Is going to look down at you with a smirk while biting his lip. Going to shower you with degrading praises (that’s my good little slut, etc.). If you ever didn't want it rough he'd likely be a very sensuous lover. Slow deep strokes that rock you to your core till he had you crying out in pleasure. After sex, he seems like the type to hold you close and whisper sweet nothings in your ear while showering you with quick, soft kisses.

Cater: Switch. Very vocal. Into role play and would dress up for it. Can use his signature spell but would probably be more of a finisher than the main event. Is down for making a sex tape or taking pictures. Wouldn't post them but would like to keep them for the memories. Would sign your ass or crotch with some variation of "Cay Cay was here" Likes to switch positions frequently. Into public sex/sneaky play. Will shower you with praise, but could just as easily degrade you. Really likes when you wear cute/sexy lingerie or underwear for him. Would love to receive nudes or lewds from you throughout the day, even if he’s somewhere where he can’t react or respond. Would return the favor. Likes to hold your head/hair when you go down on him. Will send you links to whatever crazy position he wants to try next, maybe some lingerie he wants to see you in. After sex with him will mainly be cuddling in bed and scrolling through magicam. Might have water or snacks but wouldn't be something he always has on hand.

Savanaclaw

Book: Read

Leona: Either gonna make you do all the work or fuck you till your legs give out. Lots of biting. Really into oral, giving, and receiving. Can and will growl while using his mouth/fucking you. Likes to be told how good he’s making you feel. Will purposely leave hickies/love marks where everyone can see. Into cuddle fucking and lazy sex. Will fuck you sneakily in public if the chance arises. 7 help you if you end up having hate sex with this man. RIP your lower half. Really rocks the messy after-sex look/glow. Aftercare can be sweet but minimal. Maybe a bath/shower together where he kisses his marks but after that, sir is going to sleep, though you are welcome to join him for some sleepy cuddles. Lowkey jealous, highkey possessive. If he feels too many people are looking at you he's the kind to come up behind you and wrap an arm around your shoulders/hips and lean against you. A not-so-subtle kiss on the cheek/lips. Definitely going to smack/grab your ass so everyone knows who you belong to herbivore.

Ruggie: Between class, his side jobs, and running errands for Leona this man has mastered the quickie. Never knows when the chance is gonna come again so he does not care where he does you. Quick, shallow thrusts. Will use his hand efficiently to make sure you get off too. Will probably have you lick his fingers clean of your mess. Going to leave a small mark or two on you. Could be hidden or visible, depends on what positions you were in. Into biting. Going to tease you while fucking you, could also be having a perfectly normal conversation. Then help you get dressed before going about business as usual. Would probably be into having you use your hand/mouth while he's doing homework and vice versa. Lot of stamina so be prepared for multiple rounds throughout the day. Always gives you a kiss at the end, possibly going to smack your ass when he leaves but not one to draw attention to himself. When he's not in a rush though, probably a very tender lover. Very generous with foreplay. Going to take his time till you both are satisfied. Has snacks in his room and seems like he would be very affectionate before going to sleep

Octavinelle

Book: Read

Azul: Does not like missionary or other positions where you can look at him. If you want those kinds of positions, he’ll likely want to blindfold you, or keep some clothes on. Likes to use restraints. Probably makes really cute faces/noises while fucking. Just very expressive, you’re going to know if he’s feeling good. If he’s in a bad mood he’d be a mean fuck. Just being rough and degrading you. But for the most part, he’d be a very gentle lover. Doing his very best to make you feel good. He’s very thorough and likes to be close. Lots of skin-to-skin. Prefers when you take control, he’s got enough to stress about, just let him enjoy himself. Might be able to convince him for some under the desk fun in the VIP room. Would definitely bend you over that desk after hours. Stamina would probably be lacking so he's more of a one and done kind of guy. Would not use his tentacles on you unless you were blindfolded and he was sure you couldn't peek. Amazing aftercare, going to want you to shower him in praise, and he'll return the favor,might even hum or sing a little. Will eventually untangle himself from your arms to get some snacks. Expect to always have the best seat in the lounge with an exclusive discount. Aren't you just so fortunate?

Jade: Will tease the fuck out of you until you are begging for release. Does not mind using toys but would prefer his fingers/tongue. The type to make you ask for permission and say thank you after he makes you cum. Likes to watch you play with yourself to figure out what you like then improve upon it. Teases you about blushing, your expressions, and any noise you make while he’s watching. Will somehow look perfectly put together even if you look like you just finished a marathon. Likes to stay mostly clothed during sex, not because he’s insecure, but so he can tease you for falling apart at how good you feel. Will ‘accidentally’ give you marks that can be seen in uniform. Probably going to gently bully you when you’re cum drunk. Would do his best to work you up when he knows you can’t do anything just to watch you squirm. King of aftercare. Like sir has snacks and refreshments. Will run you a bath/shower and clean you up before tucking you in for some well earned rest. Lowkey jealous/possessive. If anyone gets too close he'll be sure to make a note to remind you later why you belong to him.

Floyd: His mood will determine the kind of sex you have/how much work you're gonna do. Apathetic mood could lead to him just kinda going through the motions if he’s not making you do all the work. This would probably be a quickie, might not even cum, before either passing out or doing whatever he was doing before. If he's in a good mood though…prepare to be fucked silly. Going to go until he is tired, like a full body work out, and (un)fortunately he has plenty of stamina and energy. Multiple rounds, switching positions, be prepared for every hole to get a turn. Probably going to turn you into a pretzel to try and find what feels best. Will tease you if you say you're tired or need a break. Will cover you in bites, likely some accidental bruising. Going to make a mess of his partner, just cum everywhere. Surprisingly good aftercare. Not running you a bath but he's definitely cuddling you after, talking about how much fun that was and how good it felt. Definitely gets jealous if other people give you too much attention. Will remind you whose shrimpy you are.

Scarabia

Book: Read

Kalim: He is down to try anything once. A really fun lover. Really high energy, pleasure seeking to the max. Likes to try new positions frequently. Better stretch before because sir will bend you like a pretzel. Lots of spontaneous sex. He's going to say or do something that will have both of you needing to take a laugh break. Very affectionate but also needy. Might accidentally hurt you while trying out some overly complicated new position but would stop, apologize, and take some time to make sure you're okay before continuing. Very encouraging when it comes to exploring your kinks and fantasies. Probably a very playful lover, lots of teasing touches and soft kisses along your body. Not the best at foreplay but A for effort and always trying to improve his techniques for you. He does want you to feel good but sometimes he can forget to communicate and check to make sure so you'll have to be vocal. After sex he's going to want lots of cuddles and pillow talk. Would likely have snacks and refreshments brought to you two so you can stay in bed together a little longer. Would feed you snacks between playful kisses and compliments. 

Jamil: Will take whatever role their partner prefers. Is actually a dom/top. Enormous people pleaser. Really into pleasing their partner, like to the point where his pleasure gets pushed to the side. Lots of foreplay. Fingers, mouth, toys, does not care so long as you feel good. Really quick to pick up on all the little things that drive you wild and will use all his skill to give you the best orgasm ever. If you let him let loose…be prepared for an almost 180. Will make you into his living stress ball. Hard, fast, and deep. Into master/slave play. Wants you to wear a collar, maybe some restraints, def wants you to call him master or sir. He wants you to pamper him, let him sit back and enjoy himself. You're gonna be sore, either from him driving into you like a wild animal, or from making you ride him till your legs give up. He’s flexible. Probably going to pull your hair or choke you. Going to call you names. Really good with aftercare. Will help you clean up, would make you a meal and shower you in praises regardless.

Pomefiore

Book: Unread

Vil: He’s a bit of a mean lover. He's going to be a bit demanding and selfish, though it's not completely intentional. He just knows what he likes and how he likes it. Seems like he would enjoy some unique positions that would require you to stretch beforehand. Likes to wear/likes it when you wear nice lingerie. He has at least one mirror pointed at his bed because he likes to watch. Loves having his body worshiped, he’s more of a taker than a giver. You’re still going to love it though, because it’s him and who wouldn’t love that? He is going to let you know if you’re not doing it right. He’s going to fuck you while he makes you watch your reflection in the mirror, calling you all sorts of little names and insults. Seems like he would be into master/pet play. Somehow looks flawless after sex, like he’s going to be sweating and panting but still look picture perfect somehow. He probably has some nice mood lighting. Aftercare is going to be more so you cleaning him up. If you did good he’ll give you a few compliments, but he’ll also critique what you can do better next time. If you’re lucky he might hand feed you a snack or let you sleep next to him.

Rook: Be prepared for passion. He is going to take his time, exploring every inch of your body, learning every sensitive and weak spot you have available. He’s going to take his time teasing you, really into edging because he can’t get enough of how you look right before you cum. King of foreplay. Could spend hours between your legs just teasing and working you up till you’re ready for him. He’s quite literally going to be showering you in praises and compliments about how sublime you look in the throes of pleasure. You better hydrate and stretch before because this man has insane stamina and will go for multiple rounds until you are absolutely exhausted. He likes overstimulation, just unable to stop himself with how beautiful you look when you cum, wanting to make you do it again and again till you’re begging for mercy. He’s a very vocal lover. Probably a voyeur and will secretly watch you pleasuring yourself so that when it’s his turn he has an idea of what you like he can go off of and improve on. Might be into a bit of predator/prey, specifically hunting you down before ravaging you till morning. Going to be very sweet and loving after. Kissing all over your body while cleaning you up, making sure you're hydrated and have snacks before cuddling up to you for sleep. Would definitely give you a full body massage. You're going to feel very safe in his arms.

Ignihyde

Book: Unread

Idia: He’s a very shy lover. Very self conscious in person so he's going to need lots of encouragement. He's going to prefer you on top or in control because he doesn't believe he can actually make you feel good on his own. Very clumsy sex. Even if he has experience he usually doubts himself and his abilities. Makes plenty of cute noises, has trouble keeping quiet. He's going to bite you. Prefers to use toys on you, might even design a few custom toys for you to use. Might be into cockwarming while he's gaming, or even just having you ride/blow him. You could challenge him to 1v1 where the loser has to make the winner cum. He loves sexting. And when he sexts its like a complete 180 to how he is in person. Expect lots of dirty talk. He's not going to send you nudes or lewds but he'll love any that you send, especially if you complain something for him. Probably would like you to wear some kind of toy that he can control from a distance, just teasing you relentlessly while he does. After sex he's going to be very awkward and unsure of what to do. But he's going to try so be encouraging and supportive.

Diasomnia

Book: Unread

Malleus: BDE personified. This man is a god in bed and he knows it. He is going to worship every inch of your body. He’s going to take his time prepping you, and he knows exactly what to do with his hands and tongue. He’ll let you hold his horns while he goes down on you. Sex with this man may as well be a marathon in and of itself. He has a long fuse and an insane amount of stamina. He is the type to put your legs over his shoulders and sink his entire length into you slowly, smirking the entire time as he watches your reaction. This man is not a bed shaker, he is a bed breaker. The entire time he’s going to look like he’s barely breaking a sweat, smirking down at you and cooing the sweetest praises that he can. He’s so loving during sex, just caressing your body while pounding into it. He’s going to bite you and cover you in his marks so everyone knows exactly who you belong to. He’s not jealous but he is possessive, he does not like sharing your attention with people, you are his child of man. Going to hold you to his chest and gently nuzzle you to sleep.

Lilia: The biggest fucking tease. He’s the kind to tie you to the bed and blindfold you so he can spend hours just teasing you till you’re actually about to lose your mind, begging for any kind of release. The entire time he’ll just be commenting on how cute you look and sound. Seems like he would be into temperature play, specifically running ice cubes along your body while you whimper and squirm under him. He’s surprisingly rough, likes biting. He’s very vocal, you will know when he’s enjoying it. Complete wildcard, like he probably has some really out there kinks. Never know when he’s going to come up behind you and kiss your neck, run his hand along your thigh, just discretely grope you in public. His oral and overall technique will be flawless, like will actually have your legs shaking after. Has a lot of stamina and can go multiple rounds if one isn’t enough. Probably likes edging. Seems like he’d be great with aftercare, just like a really doting partner. Going to praise you for even the smallest thing. He is going to tuck you into bed after.

Silver: He seems very vanilla, like he’s good at what he does but there’s really nothing out there in the bedroom with him. Sir is making love, not fucking. Just very gentle with his partner. Surprising amount of stamina. He’s a very intimate lover. Lots of kisses,eye contact, and just overall being close to you. Will make eye contact when he is going down on you, likes you to look up at him when you return the favor. He’s definitely focused on making sure that you feel good and are enjoying it. Would probably bury his face in your neck and chest when he feels really good, has some nice breathy moans. After he’s going to just cover your body in gentle kisses while he helps clean you up before holding you close to him and drifting off the sleep with the sweetest pillow talk. He is just going to make you feel loved.  

[jawllines]

But how could she voice this? Nobody else had made her request it explicitly, so she really wasn’t sure what to request. Any version of her saying it just sounds more and more pathetic, to speak the words aloud would be embarrassing. 

“You want me to stay?” Harry offered, after some time, and she was grateful for it as she nodded, “Just in the room?” 

Her face feels warm as her eyes glance over to the other side of her bed, “It’s. . .it’s a big bed,” she told him, swallowing thickly, “You can lay down if you're tired.” 

Harry’s lips quirk into a tiny, halfway smile, and Y/N had seen that look enough to know some form of a taunt typically follows it, “Oh I see,” he began, lifting himself up onto her bed and crawling over her body to get to the side she offered, “Was this a ploy to get me into your bed? You could have just asked, Sweetheart, but I would have asked for dinner first.” 

or

Y/N finds out a secret and Harry finds a rat 

part 1

part 2

iii.

Y/N has never been so embarrassed.

The hike was her idea; granted, she’s not a big hiker to begin with, and she hardly believes the sneakers she wore were meant for more than casual ambling in a park — but she thought it could be fun. After being cooped up in her flat for a little over a week, she was desperate just to breathe in the fresh air and feel the sun on her skin. It was one thing to be locked away when the weather was bitter and uninhabitable, but it was finally getting warmer, and whispers of Spring were carried in the wind. An open window could only preclude her feelings of claustrophobia for so long before she needed to go outside.  

Since Harry could typically get Thomas to agree to things she’d never thought he might agree to before, he was the one she asked. However, due to the recent attempted kidnapping, even he seemed reluctant to the proposal and Y/N had imagined her plans had fallen through before they’d even truly been constructed. At least she did until Harry sent her a message a little past midnight the following night, with a link that directed her to a trail’s website. Would this be okay? His message read, and Y/N grinned so hard her cheeks were sore as she replied with “Yes!” ten times. 

Y/N is not one who would find joy in exerting herself but she was filled to the brim and gushing with an eagerness she hasn’t felt since being a child, the night before visiting a zoo. She did not for a second consider how sore she’d probably be, especially from the number of hills this trail included along the side of what wasn’t big enough to be a mountain but was certainly large enough to give the illusion. All she could focus on was the thought of the wind kissing her face and the sound of morning birds singing. Aching muscles be damned, she could just take a hot bath when they got back, and maybe she could persuade Harry to massage her feet if it was that bad. 

By the time Y/N woke up Friday morning, Harry was already in her kitchen preparing breakfast but that was hardly shocking. It was her second time witnessing him outside of a pressed suit and she couldn’t say that she was disappointed; Harry looked awfully cute in his hiking clothes. A hoodie that swallowed him up, athletic shorts pulled over black leggings, and a pair of bright red shoes that she could not imagine him plucking out of a store. A beanie was nestled over his head, but he had a hair clip locked around the edge of it, almost like he had it on standby in case he got too warm. 

He turned to face her, smiling warmly as he flipped a pancake, “I didn’t know if you had a water bottle, so I brought an extra one,” he greeted her, “And I bought some of those warm packs you activate by shaking in case it’s chillier than we anticipated.” 

“We need to get a stroller for your kitties so they can come too,” Y/N told him, as she hiked herself up on the barstool beside the counter, Harry working on the side adjacent to her. She rested her face against her fist, watching him putter around putting together the meal. There was something imminently gratifying about putting a man to work in her kitchen while she swung her legs and waited patiently to be fed, so she reveled in that feeling while he answered. 

“I actually do have a stroller,” he told her, “But since this is our first time, I thought it would be better to see the trail before bringing them.” 

With a sigh, Y/N agreed. Harry has brought them over three times since the first and Y/N enjoyed every second of it – he’d explained to her that as long as she doesn’t mind, he’ll bring them over often. This way he gets to spend extra time with them while he’s working and Y/N gets her animal fill as they meander throughout her flat, making it their second home. He’s even left them there overnight once, when he would be returning the following morning but wasn’t necessarily going home (their schedules make no sense to her, not even a little, and she wondered when the hell they ever slept), and Y/N really liked that. She woke up to Gremlin at her feet and Goose nestled against her breast beneath the blankets (and if she hadn’t been so sure that moving would stir them both, she would have taken a picture to send to him). 

They ate breakfast and Y/N pulled on an outfit she hoped would be multifunctional no matter what weather they would face or how much exerting herself would make her sweat. Even the walk to the parking garage lifts her with excitement, happy to finally be leaving the flat. 

“You’re awful chipper,” Harry remarked, following close behind her, his fingers looped around his keys, “Normally for this early in the morning, you’ve grumbled about something by now.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Of course I’m chipper,” she walked around to the passenger seat of the car, “I’m free for a little while! You forget that I’m fucking stuck in there until someone breaks me out, while you can come and go as you see fit, really.” She smiled at the thought of the sun hitting her face, “It’s going to be so nice today too – I can’t wait.” 

“Mm, it is going to be nice,” he agreed mildly, “I’ll keep you out for as long as I can, yeah? But I’m sure Thomas will be blowing my phone up.” He smiled gently, “Things are still. . .fresh.” 

Y/N buckled herself in, brows dipped, “Hm? Did you guys not catch the guy? I thought you did and that’s the only reason I’m being uncaged.” 

“We did,” Harry’s lips straightened out, a dubious glint flickered past his gaze before he snuffs it out, “For the most part.” 

“For the most part?” She repeated with a small sigh – she wasn’t in the mood for twenty questions, she just wanted him to be straightforward.

Harry hummed, “Yes, they found the “mugger” –  it was his son,” Y/N’s brows raised, “Both have been dealt with appropriately for now but of course, everyone is still concerned that this wasn’t just an isolated incident. Things are going to be. . .a little tighter lately, so I was surprised Thomas agreed to this in the first place, but I did push pretty hard.” 

She smiled and nudged his shoulder, “That’s why I like you,” she told him, “Dunno’ what you’re doing to bewitch him but keep doing it, I like doing things.” 

The day had started out so well; Y/N isn’t sure how Harry had found this trail but it was pretty. It started out as a gravel patch of parking lot with a big wooden sign that read Green Haven Trail in big, bold letters, and to the left of it, a small brick building housing a restroom. It had rained last night, so the air smelled of moist earth and morning dew, and it’s a scent that she believes she normally takes for granted. Right now she isn’t though – right now she feels it slip through her nares, down to her lungs. She was more than pleased that it isn’t humid or else each breath would feel wet, and her skin would feel sticky, and she thinks that would have made her sad. Her first time out of the flat in how long, only to be accosted by unpleasant weather? Surely, she’d just lock herself in her room at that point. 

Most of the trail was paved but there were clear sections deeper in, where people had broken off from the designated path and wore down the grass and foliage to create a new route. If she couldn’t see where this off-path trail led, then she wouldn’t have suggested they go near it, but she could make out that it guided them to a mini waterfall from a creak. And after the rain, she knew it would be overflowing and beautiful, so she suggested they go toward it with the best pleading gaze she could give him (though it certainly wasn’t necessary – she believes Harry is a man of strong will typically, but if she asks him for something he typically gives in pretty easy). 

For a moment he seemed hesitant but eventually agreed, so they went toward it, and Y/N marveled at the rocks, the surfaces altering from smooth to rough and jagged, how the water toppled over them dropping down into the large well of the creek. If the weather was just a little warmer she would suggest sticking her feet in but it was still a little too brisk for it. So she made a mental note of this place for mid-June when the hike would undoubtedly be miserable in the summer heat, but the best part of it would be sinking their feet into this well of cold water and kicking them as they cooled down and ate a snack. Y/N assumed she would be with Harry again because. . .well, she usually is with him, isn’t she? 

They stayed there for a while for a short break, since they’d been walking for about thirty minutes uphill at that point. Y/N’s legs were already tired and she was in the middle of trying to find an excuse for them to turn around and start making their way back before she was really tired – but there was no need. No, why would she need a reason for them to turn around when she unwittingly gives them one? 

They had to trek down a small hill to get within closer visual distance of the waterfall and search the creek with their gazes for any potential fish or tadpoles swimming around in the greenish water. Going downhill to get there, meant going uphill to return, and while it wasn’t steep there was a decent-sized slope. Several jutted pieces of stone and rock and root should have made it a relatively easy way back up. Yet somehow, when Y/N tries to balance the sole of her shoe against the curve of a rock, she loses her footing. Her body rocks face first into the dirt, and she knocks her knee against a stone and cuts up her palm from the tree root she’d been gripping onto. Before she could tumble all the way down to the creek, Harry placed his hands on her to keep her steady, one at her hip and the other between her shoulder blades, “Holy shit!” He cried out, his voice echoing in the empty woods, “Are you alright?” 

So now, they definitely had to turn back, because Y/N had dirt smudged on her face, a few leaves in her hair (though Harry did pluck those out for her while they walked), her knee was sore, and her palm was cut up. Y/N doesn’t cry but she wants to, not just because her knee aches, or her hand throbs, or the dirt makes her face feel gross and grimy. All of that she could deal with well enough. 

What she couldn’t deal with, was the fact that she fell in the first place, in front of Harry of all people. How embarrassing – god, she couldn’t stop thinking about it but she wanted to wipe it from her brain entirely and pretend it never happened. But Harry is Harry, there is no way that he would ever let this go without making a sly comment about it every now and then. Especially once she’s all patched up and he knew for sure she was okay. 

She kept replaying the moment in her head: the squawky sound that left her mouth, how dumb she must have looked as she scrambled to stop herself only for Harry to be the one to halt her movement. He probably thought she looked like an idiot – no, she knows he did because why wouldn’t he? If it had happened to anyone but her, Y/N would have found some humor in it, and maybe she was just a bad person but there were compilations of people falling on the internet for a reason. 

Under different circumstances, Y/N would avoid the bathroom at all costs because it seemed like a staff infection waiting to happen but she tried to get into this one, only to find it locked. So not only did she embarrass herself in front of Harry, she had to sit in the car for forty minutes, uncomfortable, her knee aching and her face dirty. At the realization, she felt like she really could cry then, but the only thing that stopped her was the potential for further embarrassment.

“It could have been worse,” Harry tried to soothe her once they were back in the car, “Had I not been there to save your life, you could be in the creek right now.” 

“Shut up, or I’ll shove you in a creek,” she grumbled, brows furrowed at him, “Didn’t you promise to return me unscathed? This is coming out of your paycheck.” He only chuckles at her. 

The drive home was uneventful, and so was the walk up to her flat. As soon as they get through the doors, Harry directs her to the bathroom and says he’d be in there in a moment with a first aid kit, and Y/N has no fight left to argue. She went in, avoided looking at her face, and plopped down right on the toilet seat, waiting patiently for him. Harry appeared, looking a little too cute out of his leggings, now only in shorts that rode up pretty high on his thigh. He’s got nice legs – Y/N’s been thinking about them often lately. 

First, he tends to her palm, flipping it over and pouting at the sight of it, “Your poor hand,” he muttered sympathetically, caressing the flesh just below her thumb, “Does it hurt?” 

Y/N is unsure if he’s mocking her with how sweet his voice was, but she doesn’t fuss over it – honestly, she kind of likes it, “Yeah, a little.” She replied and he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. 

“Poor thing,” he reached inside the kit, “We’ll get you sorted.” 

After he cleaned it, then slathered it in the antibiotic ointment, and wrapped it up with gauze and a bandage, he got a washcloth wet. It took her a second to realize what he was about to do, until he was suddenly closer to her face than she expected, tenderly swiping away at the dirt smudged over her face. Y/N has trouble keeping her breathing even then. 

This is the closest she and Harry had been since the night they kissed, and she couldn’t keep her brain from conjuring memories of it. Especially when his lips were looking particularly soft today, and slick from whatever chapstick he was using, almost like they were begging for another mouth to press against them. The gentle curve of his cupid’s bow and the pout of his mouth supplicates for her lips to trap it between them. To relive last week, how eagerly he’d kissed her, how his hands had slid to her waist, how he squeezed her –

Honestly, Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about it. She was skilled at acting indifferent to things like this and she’s certain Harry didn’t notice it was dawdling within her thoughts because he would have brought it up – but that didn’t mean it wasn’t. Every day, a few times a day, Y/N is suddenly accosted with a slew of images, all of which involve Harry's puckered mouth. 

Because she’d like to do it again – she wanted to do it again, but there was no way to just ask for it, was there? Not without being weird about it. At least that night they had been drinking, and if they really wanted to they could blame it on liquid loosening prior inhibitions. If Y/N was asking for it completely sober, then there was no turning back from that – then it was something they had to talk about and that’s difficult. Not to mention, she shouldn’t be canoodling with her bodyguards anyway. The time with Niall was a one-off, and she’d never had the urge or desire to do it again (well, maybe once or twice, but that was neither here nor there) – but she wanted it again with Harry. Honestly, she thinks she wants more than just the kiss with Harry. 

And they hadn’t even really discussed the first one yet! Why would they tack on a second kiss? 

With Niall, it was much easier; she sucked him off, and he came in her mouth, they laughed about it and then tried to finish the movie they were watching before both of them promptly fell asleep. When they woke up there was no awkward tension lingering in the air, she swatted him with a pillow so that he would get off the couch and go with her to a new cookie place as he’d promised. Life settled back in as normal, Y/N barely remembered what his cum tasted like after eating an iced sugar cookie, and that was that. 

But with Harry, the whole night persists in her memories. How he admitted to being jealous thinking about her with Niall, and how he wants to be her favorite guard. The taste of his tongue and the impression of his mouth pushed against hers. How he pressed his thumb into her chin and pulled her lips open wider for himself, how heady the feeling was, the caress of his fingers on her hips, her wrists, her jaw. Her cheeks warm when she thinks about crawling into his lap, how she felt him hard beneath her before he pulled away – before he stopped it from going any further. 

Y/N couldn’t help but wonder just how far it would have gone had he not withdrawn from her. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” Harry murmured, and only then does Y/N realize that she’d been staring directly at him as he still carefully wiped away the dirt, “I’m getting shy.” 

Brows pinching toward each other, Y/N frowns at him, “You’re like three centimeters from my face, where the hell else am I supposed to look?” She praises herself for willing the words so quickly from her mouth, instead of floundering how she wanted to when she’d been caught gawking (Harry always teased her that she reverted to her extreme “brat-ish tendencies” once cornered and she continuously proved him right). 

Harry has a knowing smile that Y/N wants to flick off his face like he could read her mind through each of her pores. He always kind of had that look on him though, that would suggest he knew what Y/N was thinking and feeling before maybe even she did. It annoyed her more than anything. 

“You’re being rather rude to someone who saved a clumsy little thing like you from drowning in a creek.” He murmured, standing up from the spot he’d been kneeling before her and tossing the wet cloth into the sink with a wet slap. He holds one finger out to her, a silent command to stay put, and Y/N finds herself listening to him until he returns with a bottle of water. With that in one hand, he pulled open her medicine cabinet and retrieved the paracetamol, popping the cap open and shaking two into his palm, “You need to take these or your knee is going to be sore. Say ahhh,” he held them in his fingers, hovering them over her mouth. 

She scoffed, “My knee is already sore. Give me that, you dick,” she clasps her hands around his, swiping the pills and pushing them past her lips before grabbing for the bottle of water. 

“There you go,” he ignored her insult, “That’s a good girl – y’know, you’re a brat, but you listen well when you want to. Kind of like a fussy cat.” 

A flush of warmth ran from her face, down her throat, and across her chest – the praise, no matter how backhanded, was still praise and Y/N felt her veins twinkle with it. Harry doesn’t seem to notice how it affects her, and if he does, then he is kind enough not to be a pest for once and keep it to himself. He held out his hand for her to take, helping her lift off the seat, “You aren’t limping, which is good, but we’ll still ice it. If you show up to your parent’s house with a bruised knee and scratched-up hand, I’m sure it wouldn’t be appreciated.” 

The reminder makes her grimace – she’d almost forgotten about that. Adam was the first to tell her about it weeks and weeks ago, and then her father reminded her just last week, yet she let it slip her mind again. Willfully she lets it slip from her mind, neglecting the thought – it was always a little awkward meeting with everyone. When she was little, they would coo over her and how cute she was which she had enjoyed at the time, but she had long since passed the age of being cooed at because she was in a pretty dress. And when she was little, she could fuck off and play pretend somewhere with her cousins or by herself and nobody questioned anything because she was like 7 years old and barely knew how to divide numbers. 

Y/N longs for the solace of being little and not needing to be socially present during family events; life was much easier when she could check out and nobody cared. 

“Are you going with me?” Y/N inquired as she followed him out of the bathroom, tugging down the zipper of her jacket and wiggling it off her arms. 

“Hm?” 

“To the family thing,” she dropped the jacket in her hamper, leaving her in a sports bra but she thinks nothing of it while she waits for his response, “Were you the one going with me?” 

Harry pauses, if only for a brief second, and Y/N sees a look she’s never seen before flicker through his face before he’s smiling again, “Aw, cute! You want me to be there with you?” 

She did, for some reason, she felt like it would be better with him there. Adam and Niall always get pulled off at things like this, but Y/N felt like Harry might stay by her side for it. She had nothing to base this feeling on beyond just knowing it in her gut. 

And when she doesn’t grumble or call him an asshole for teasing her, Harry must realize she’s serious, because the gleam in his eyes softens to one that is gentle and pitying, “It won’t be me accompanying you, though I would love to,” he told her, “I’m wanted elsewhere that day.” 

She frowned at him, already feeling the whine bubble in her chest before he could finish his sentence, “Just tell them that you don’t want to do that and you want to do this instead.” 

“As much as the princess’s word is considered –” 

“Eat shit.” 

“ – I believe that request would be denied. Thomas wants me for a more delicate and potentially violent matter, so that’s where I’ll be.” He sighed, thumbing over his eyebrow, “Though you do manage to be delicate and violent as well, maybe I could ask for a trade.” 

Y/N flipped him off before plopping down on the couch, watching as he began to kick off his shoes at the doorway now that they were settling inside. For a fleeting moment, she wondered if the reason Harry wasn’t going was more than him being needed elsewhere but she couldn’t come up with good enough logic to back the claim. Unless he was the Harry from her childhood, and he was desperately trying to avoid a situation where that fact may be found out, but even that doesn’t seem like his speed. He was much too casual and unconcerned for her to think he’d go to that level just to keep up some weird little secret. 

That doesn’t mean she’s a hundred percent convinced, but she just dwells on it a little less. 

“It’ll be okay, you know,” Harry says after a while, as he’s opening up her windows, pulling the curtains open to let sunlight pour into her room; it glitters off her coffee table and places a glare over her tv, and the sweet chirp of birds still singing early in the morning fills her flat (along with the sound of cars driving below them but the morning traffic had slowed considerably by that point), “Just a few hours of family shit, and then you’ll be done. Can come home and take a shower and relax afterward.” Y/N follows him around the room as he goes to her other window, “It won’t be so bad. Maybe you’ll even have a little fun.” 

She doesn’t have it in her to fight him, “Yeah, maybe,” she offered quietly in return, leaning her head back and letting her eyes flutter closed, trying to ignore the throbbing in her knee, “It just feels weird to see them is all, and having nothing to show for the years that have passed since I’ve seen them last. Like. . .I dunno, I have to sit and listen to everyone else and their successes and I’m happy for them but I can’t help but. . .wish that I had something too. But all I’ve got is attempted kidnappings and a hobby that I haven’t perfected when I’ve got nothing but time to perfect it.” Y/N puffs a mirthless laugh. 

“Self-depreciation doesn’t look good on you,” he clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth and he sounds closer than he was before but she keeps her eyes shut, “Why don’t you start selling your art?” 

That does make her peek an eye at him, “Listen, I know I’m having a little pity party, but I don’t need you being mean and adding to it.” 

“I’m not being mean,” he retrieved a package of frozen vegetables from her freezer before he made his way to sit down beside her, body turned so he faced her directly, “I’m giving you an idea. Your art is good, and all the comments people have made on it in class tell you how cute the things you draw are. So yeah, maybe they wouldn’t sell in some smarmy art gallery, but they would definitely make a cute sticker on a water bottle or a laptop case. And what’d you get your degree in, wasn’t it business related? Marketing?” Y/N’s face pinches up. 

“So?” 

“So put two and two together, Darling, you’re smart,” he told her, “You make cute stickers and you have some understanding of marketing – start selling them online!” 

It. . .wasn’t the worst idea she’s ever heard. The people in the class had called her drawings cute, even the instructor had told her they were charming in a cutesy way. If other people liked them – if Harry really thought that other people would like them enough to stick them somewhere they had to look often – that would give her something to do, wouldn’t it? Something to focus on. . .something that could entirely be her own, and didn’t have to be a question of her safety, with no worry about getting her from point A to point B, and her name wouldn’t be out there. She could do it all under a different name! Loads of Etsy shops and the like don’t have the artist’s real name at all. 

It could just be her own little thing, and if it didn’t work, she could scrap the idea and pretend it never happened. But it was something. . .it could be hers. 

“Hm.” That is all she replied, despite the cogs clicking and turning in her brain. 

Harry sighed, plopping down in the space beside her, “I reckon you just like being difficult,” he told her, stretching one long leg out so it was sitting beneath the table, “Hm? I think you like trying to rile me up.” 

“Maybe.” 

                                                           .                                .                            .

Y/N has been having nightmares. 

As a child, she used to get them a lot. Sometimes they could be vivid; feel as real as a memory and Y/N would have trouble separating what was real and what was a dream. It was an unfortunate byproduct of a burdened subconscious, or at least that’s what the child psychologist told Thomas. And he then took a far more strict and tender approach to isolate her from the world of her parent’s work, which Y/N never really understood. Why wait until a child begins to show emotional distress before keeping them from something potentially emotionally distressing? 

They come and go, depending on the current state and status of her life. Times of stress brought them prolonged and heavy, bogging down her brain like waterlogged branches in a typically dry terrain. A monsoon of shadowy figures, hushed low voices, and crimson puddles. Trying to close her eyes but they’re being held open, trying to move through dense air with gelatinous limbs, trying to scream but her voice just barely leaves her throat. It’s nothing but frustration bubbling to her boil through her veins in the worst way, and when she finally does wake up, it lingers for a few minutes as she acclimates to being conscious.  

Once she has one, she’ll have them almost nightly until the problem is addressed or they eventually wither away. She doesn’t bring them up much – Niall and Adam know about them, but Thomas isn’t aware, though she doesn’t think he’d actually care. And she isn’t sure if her parents were even aware of her first round of them when they had concerned the nannies and guards enough to report them to Thomas. If they did know, they never brought it up. 

So she guesses it made sense that nobody alerted Harry to their existence if they were to ever occur while he was there.

They had started happening two weeks ago, shortly after the attempted kidnapping. It was scary, though it didn’t get very far, knowing that someone could find her location so easily was worrisome for future endeavors. And had this guy been more tactful and maybe a touch more forceful, then the situation could have gone horrendously bad – she could have been in a lot of trouble, and when her mind starts wandering to what could have been waiting for her. . .it’s awful. 

For the most part, they had been pretty tame. Y/N wakes up disoriented and groggy around 4 AM, she wanders out to the living room to find whoever was there that night, and if they were awake she’d make them both tea and stay up for a while. Niall was there the first night, and when she suddenly appeared in front of him with her hand stretched out, holding a mug to him, he gave her a knowing look, “Hm? Nightmare?” She nodded, and he made room for her on the couch, moving his computer, his iPad, or whatever he had brought over to keep himself busy for the night, “Do you want to talk about it?” She shook her head, “Fine, then you’re g’na have to listen to me rant about this fucking series I’m watching because. . . .” 

Adam asks fewer questions and most of the time is asleep when she wanders out but when her door clicks open he’s pulled from his sleep with a snort, “You okay?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Mm,” he would hum, “Go back to bed then, I’m not ready to socialize.” 

“I’ll just be up for a little, you can stay asleep,” she’d assure him, but she didn’t want to be alone, so she would make her tea and then sit on her feather blue recliner (that she was surprised he isn’t inhabiting) with her phone. Adam would say he’d stay up with her but make no move to change his position, so he always ended up back to sleep anyway. 

Bill and Martha were usually asleep too when she wandered out, but they were never ones for much conversation anyway. They would open their eyes, see she is in no imminent danger, then go right back to bed and that was that (nothing and nobody could make her feel more like a little kid than those two, and Thomas when she does see him). She would putter around her kitchen quietly, but take her tea into her room, wrapped up in her blankets and clicking through Youtube videos on her telly, comforted by the knowledge she isn’t alone in the flat. 

Some days there is nobody there with her at night, maybe an extra guard lingering outside the building, but no one inhabits her living room. Those nights Y/N is suddenly confronted with the harsh reminder that she lives in a constant state of fear, gnawing at her lip, jumping at every creak or click that echoed against the walls. It makes her feel like an idiot so she doesn’t bring it up to anybody, that on a regular night being alone can be weird, but on a night she’s had a bad dream it could be weird and long. It was stupid and made her feel like a child.

Tonight, for whatever reason, the dream was a lot rougher than it had been. While the prior nightmares were more nondescript things and hazy situations that she could just tell were bad but did not have comprehensible images of – this was much more lucid. Every touch felt like a burn against her skin, the hand cupped over her mouth and squeezed her nose shut stealing her breath away, the heart racing panic struck her fast, and her fingertips felt numb. She was thrashing, her throat sore from screaming, she needed help – she needed it right then, but there was nobody there. She was alone, she’s always been alone, she’s never safe, never, never, never –

“Y/N!” 

Her eyes split open, the beat of her heart pounding through her chest and ringing through her ears, and her trembling hands stay still at her sides. It took her a few silent, panicked moments before she realized she’d been woken up from a dream, staring at the figure who slowly, but surely, becomes Harry through her bleary gaze. Almost instantaneously relief floods through her, and icy spikes that dotted her vessels are now replaced with warmth, melting them. Y/N isn’t sure if the comfort is brought by the fact that she knows she’s awake so much as it is brought by seeing Harry – he usually showed up in her dream, and dream her was always reassured by his presence. His face usually meant whatever was plaguing her was finished – whatever shadowy, dark figure digging their nails into her arm dissipated. 

It was not until Harry spoke her name again that Y/N finally realized she’d been dreaming but she was awake now. Her eyes burn and her cheeks are wet – she’d been crying? Her bones feel stiff and creaky as she pushes herself from the mattress, pressing her knuckles against her eyes to try and rub the sleep from them. “You were having a bad dream?” Harry’s voice is low, his tone gentle, like he was creeping up on a resting bear and was worried to startle it. 

Y/N nodded wordlessly. The most he gets from her is a small hum as she tries to organize herself and her thoughts; she isn’t used to someone being here as she wakes up, staring at her warily, so she tries to force herself to speed it up. She didn’t want to worry him. And now that she thinks about it, when was the last time he’d spent the night here? He probably didn’t even know she had dreams like this to begin with. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Harry pressed carefully, and there was a small thud of four feet landing on the bed. She looked over to see Goose pad over to her, rubbing up against her torso and finding a spot in her lap before a low rumble of purrs overcame her. 

“What time is it?” Y/N inquired. 

Harry looks at his watch, “2 AM.” 

“Too late to talk about it,” she murmured, though she still felt shaken up. Her hands tremble as she smoothes them down Goose’s back, searching for more comfort in the soft fur, a wobbly rise and fall of each breath from her chest, “Was I being loud?” 

Harry gave her a small, empathetic smile, “Just a little,” he told her, “We could hear you,” it took her a second to realize we meant him and the cats, “And Goose was sitting outside of your door. At first I thought maybe you were awake, talking on the phone or something but you started yelling for help.” 

Grimacing, she frowns, at the image of Harry clambering to get up and burst through her door, overwrought with worry and his adrenalin spiking. His job – the whole reason he is here – is to keep her safe. So how horrifying is it to hear that one objective may be compromised in the middle of the night, on a floor way too high for someone to have snuck through a window?  “I’m sorry, that was – that’s probably scary.” 

“Yeah, it definitely wasn’t my favorite experience,” he agreed, “But I’m glad I could wake you up from it.” She scratched between Goose’s ears, feeling warm that the cat was concerned enough to sit outside her door once she heard her. She’s sure Gremlin is still blissfully sleeping wherever he was originally. “Well, I’ll let you go back to sleep. Call me if you need anything.” 

Y/N had thought that she was feeling better – she was awake, and she knew she was awake, so there was no reason for the same rimy panic that had been suffocating her to return at the mention of Harry leaving. Nor was there a reason for her to reach out and grab his wrist before he could get too far, a pitiful refusal pulled from her lips that feel sore and dry, she’s sure from her own teeth. Harry was safe – he couldn’t leave this soon after she’d woken up, she still needed a little bit – still wanted to be near him, and to hear him talk or even just sit silently at his side. 

But how could she voice this? Nobody else had made her request it explicitly, so she really wasn’t sure what to request. Any version of her saying it just sounds more and more pathetic, to speak the words aloud would be embarrassing. 

“You want me to stay?” Harry offered, after some time, and she was grateful for it as she nodded, “Just in the room?” 

Her face feels warm as her eyes glance over to the other side of her bed, “It’s. . .it’s a big bed,” she told him, swallowing thickly, “You can lay down if you're tired.” 

Harry’s lips quirk into a tiny, halfway smile, and Y/N had seen that look enough to know some form of a taunt typically follows it, “Oh I see,” he began, lifting himself up onto her bed and crawling over her body to get to the side she offered, “Was this a ploy to get me into your bed? You could have just asked, Sweetheart, but I would have asked for dinner first.” 

“Fuck off,” she grumbled, but it held little spite to it. Y/N wiggles back down beneath her covers, and Goose – disturbed but never grouchy – walks to the side, waits for Y/N to find a position she’s content in, and then returns. Y/N lays on her side so Goose tucks herself along her belly as she likes to, curling her face into her paws. Gremlin, who must have finally roused from his own blissful slumber, appeared on the bed at Harry’s feet before taking a seat, his tail undulating behind himself, waiting patiently for Harry to snuggle beneath the blankets. 

“Had I known you slept on a cloud every night, I would have asked for this sooner,” Harry said quietly, breaking through the silence of the room, only previously broken by the whirring of her fan above them, “It smells good in here too.”

Y/N watches him closely, as his head is against her pillow. Nobody else has ever laid in her bed before, and Y/N only ever sleeps on the left side of it, so she’s sure the right feels just as it did when she bought it. It’s weird to see someone there – but it only feels natural that it would be Harry, for whatever reason. Among the cotton, rosy pink duvet cover, in a long sleeve undershirt, his body having disappeared up to his shoulders snuggled beneath the comforter. He looks cute, especially when he turns to face her, and gives her a big closed-mouth smile that she told him in the past made him look like a pleased frog.

“You’re comfortable?” Y/N inquired and once Harry nodded, she finally closed her eyes again, “That’s good.” 

Some time passes. Y/N is unsure how long, but she’s almost certain that she’s fallen asleep until Harry's voice, syrupy and smooth as it always is, slithers into her ear, “I know you don’t want to talk about it and that’s fine,” he murmured, “But I just want you to know, I would never let anything or anyone hurt you. Never.” . 

She falls asleep easily then. 

                                                               .                           .                       .

Y/N used to have nightmares when she was younger, Harry had vague memories of that.

“I had a nightmare that a bad guy tried to kill me again,” she told him casually one day when they were on the swings, like it was the most normal conversation in the world, “It really sucked. They were super mean.” 

“Did you get away?” Harry remembered being concerned, even as a child. Y/N was younger than him, not by much, but enough that he’d felt a sense of responsibility for her. Harry hated his bad dreams, so he empathized with her plight. Whenever he had a bad dream, his mum usually came into his room and comforted him, but Y/N told him once that her mum didn’t like being woken up in the middle of the night for something not urgent. If she had a bad dream and woke up scared but the sun wasn’t out, she would hug her teddy tight and will herself back to sleep – that’s what she had told him, at least. 

With a shrug of her small shoulders, she kicked her legs back and forth in smooth glides, “Dunno’, I woke up before he could.” 

He was concerned then and he was concerned now. 

When Y/N offered him the spot next to her, Harry didn’t hesitate for even a moment. If she was scared enough to stuff away that prideful, bratty side of her to request it, then Harry wouldn’t make her second guess herself. Instead, he tried to make it as normal as possible, with a small tease as he crawled in beside her. He’d resigned himself to the idea of staying awake until he knew for sure she was fast asleep. It took ten minutes or so, but eventually, her measured, even breaths and sleepy sighs lull him into his own slumber. 

Harry wakes two or three hours later, warm. Warmer than he had been when he fell asleep, which he wouldn’t have questioned if not for how icy cold Y/N typically kept her room. For a brief moment, he thinks that maybe her fan shut off and he made the conscious decision to get up and turn it back on for her, but when he moves, he feels a weight on his arm that stopped him. A weight that is different from that of Goose or Gremlin. 

Once he opened his eyes, Harry found that Y/N was snuggled up against him. 

It wasn’t in a sweet, movie-like way as things like this typically went in stories and movies. It was in a very Y/N-like way though – her left leg thrown across his hip, her body flush against him, her face halfway jammed in his chest and her arm stretched over his neck; she’s about one sleepy shuffle away from smothering him with her bicep if she moved just right. Harry thinks it’s very telling that she does not sleep with someone often because she had somehow rolled herself all the way over to his side when there had been a good distance between them to start. 

Carefully, he began to reshape her, moving her arm from over his throat. Harry had been making a conscious effort to be gentle so she stayed asleep, but a small grumble lifted into the air around them that sounds close to “Stop it.” but when Harry says her name, there is no response. Instead, she wiggles her shoulders, her arm finding a place around his waist instead, and scooted closer.

Tch, he rolled his eyes but he could feel a fond smile pulling at his cheeks, She’s even a brat in her sleep. 

Harry lets himself enjoy it for a little while. The warmth of Y/N pressed to his side, the peach-scented lotion still permeating from her skin, the feel of each rise and fall from her chest as she took a breath. His insides feel cotton-soft and melty, he traces circles in the center of her back and waits patiently for her to fall deeper into her head. Once she does, he tries again to carefully remove her from the glued position she’d been in, because while he likes being cuddled close to her, he knew she would be mortified if she woke up. 

This time she goes easily, letting him lie her arm at her side before sliding his hand beneath her thigh, attentively guiding it off of his hip. Y/N stretches, and turned away from him, her arms sliding around a pillow and hugging her face against it. What a cuddly little thing, Harry thinks, she’s probably searching for something (or someone) to put her arms around the whole night. It makes his heart twist in his chest, a weird mix between an ache and a yearning for her. He wondered if these bad dreams would disappear if she always had someone there to cuddle to her body, like an oversized stuffy. 

The idea of it has a pout forming on his lips. Y/N, in the time he’s known her, is driven heavily by physical affection that she is not receiving often. She may grouse when Adam touches her shoulder when he reaches over her head to get in the cabinet, but she leans into his hand. If Niall is around, chances are Y/N is touching him in some way, either with her legs across his lap, or their hips side by side (which. . .Harry has no right to feel an ugly twinge in his chest any time he sees it but that doesn’t stop it from happening). Martha wasn’t the soft type, but Harry had walked in on Y/N leaning against the pillow Martha held to her body while they watched the telly. When Harry had come to her room in a panic, just to see for himself that she was okay (after Otto’s botched kidnapping attempt), she melted against his knuckles that he couldn’t help but stroke against her cheeks. 

Harry had met her parents several times – they were. . .kind as they could be, with what they do, but they were not the nurturing type. They were cool and distant, and even though Harry knows they love their daughter, and talk sweetly, they just didn’t seem like the type to cuddle and coddle. And instead of growing an aversion to touch, she grew too long for it, even in small doses, even from her bodyguards. Where else could she get it? Harry is certain if she went out with her friends she would be touchy and clingy, flopped over them in some way, shape, or form. 

Gremlin moves relatively little with the change in positions, and Goose lets out an annoyed huff before following Y/N’s body, snuggling up against her back. It was almost disgustingly cute how much Goose enjoyed her girl time with Y/N; even though she was the less fickle of the two, she really didn’t warm up that easily to people but with Y/N, it only took a couple of days before she was sleeping in her lap. Harry thinks that not only are cats a good judge of character, but they seek out people who need healing, like little furry psychotherapists that say nothing but do plenty. Where he would normally be a bit jealous, he was glad that Goose had chosen Y/N to snuggle with and love on her. 

Harry sighs to himself. It’s only a matter of time before Y/N realizes that she’s been right all along about knowing him, he was just holding his breath and waiting for it. In his head, when he’d started this, the idea of keeping it all a secret from her seemed easier. There would be no need to go into the details of why he left, to relive any of it, to divulge what he had done, or to break his promise to Thomas, to his father, to her father. He could go on with her like they were two strangers and his past didn’t matter. And Harry doesn’t know why it is so important to him that she didn’t think the sweet boy he was turned into the man he is today; it felt as though it broke the mirage of normalcy his childhood had there for a little while. If the image Y/N held in her head of him was altered, it would pull at his stomach and tug around his heart. The boy she knew was good, not a drop of blood on his hands – the man she knew now had hands covered in the murk and filth of gang politics, rivalries and wars, drugs and guns. 

To keep the two mutually exclusive brought him more comfort. 

But Y/N is perceptive and she recognized him almost immediately. As smart as she was, and as sneaky as she could be, he had a feeling deep in his gut that she would be seeking answers at her parent’s house. It would be easier if Harry wasn’t there too, so she wouldn’t have to sneak around him to do it. And if she finds out. . .well, Harry has accepted that it might happen and he could only hope that she isn’t too angry with him. In the grand scheme, it has changed very little of their dynamic. Harry is a completely different person than he was when he left this place – when he left her. 

His biggest regret, looking back at it, was leaving her alone. Even before this title, when they were just kids playing, he always kind of felt like her unofficial bodyguard. Or even just a companion for her – she didn’t have many other friends, and for whatever reason, both of their parents (or more so his parents and Thomas) thought it was a fine idea to just have them play with one another. Harry thinks it would have been a one-time thing when his father was first getting heavily involved with them, however from what he had heard at the time, Y/N had requested him. 

Or maybe requested was a strong word. He supposes the better way of phrasing it was when Harry's father told him that the little friend he made the week prior asked, “Where is Harry? Is he coming to play?” Which was a request enough for Thomas to invite him to a park that day. They saw each other pretty much weekly after that, depending on what was happening or the state of affairs the organization was in. Actually, Harry doesn’t even think Y/N remembers that much – he had a slightly bigger involvement in her life than he thinks she realizes. But when he speaks to Y/N about her childhood (or more, when she brings up a random anecdote), he finds that she doesn’t recall quite a few things about it. Like her brain had packed it away in storage boxes and stuffed it up in the attic – he’d once read that memory loss was an intrinsic, almost instinctual survival skill. Anything she deemed emotionally traumatic, she may have just conveniently booted from her head, and that. . .well, that might have been most of her years as a kid. 

If he knows anything about her, he knew that she would be upset with him initially but he could only hope she moved past it. Harry would have loved to go with her to her family event, even if she found out with him there, then they could at least discuss it immediately or on the car ride home instead of her stewing over it. But Thomas and Garrison had pulled him aside for different matters – the ones he had described as much more violent than a dinner with a ton of members in a gang, surprisingly. 

There might be a mole. That’s what Garrison had told him privately, that he didn’t trust Otto was in this alone; that nobody just knows where Y/N’s location is, barely anyone knows where she lives and this was an outlet mall 40-ish minutes away. It was just too convenient that Otto would know where she was without there being someone to tell him or some way of knowing. So everyone was under a microscope: Adam, Niall, Martha, Bill, and even some of the new people – Kai, Charlie, Betty, Rebecca. Harry understood why all of these people were on the list, but – 

“Why not me?” He inquired, brows dipped, “I appreciate that I’m not, but I don’t understand why exactly.” 

“You’ve been around since she was a kid,” he’d reminded Harry like he didn’t know, “There will always be a little more trust between us with you than the others. We know you wouldn’t let anything happen to her and you wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize your family.” 

So while Y/N was with her family, he would be preoccupied snooping in places he probably doesn’t belong. It feels wrong to spy on the other bodyguards like this, and even the newbies; he feels guilt trickle through his chest when he is flicking through files of them. But he knew it had to be done. . .that Y/N’s safety was the top priority, even if it meant potentially betraying the trust of his colleagues. 

He’s worried about what he might find. He’s worried about how Y/N would react if it was anyone close to her. 

Worry soaks his brain, weighs it heavy, and drags his eyelids closed so he would stop watching the back of her sleeping head. He needed to sleep – maybe he should have kept her tucked against his side, cozy and warm because he’s sure he could have fallen right back to sleep then. He already knew he would spend at least ten more minutes contemplating what the next few weeks could bring them. The last time he’d had a little bit of trouble falling back asleep in her flat was after they kissed. 

That kiss. . .Harry’s cheeks feel hot thinking about it. He could still feel her against his mouth if he focused hard enough; the taste of her tongue, how soft her lips were, the way she felt in his lap. He could also remember how embarrassing he’d been coming into her room saying he was jealous, which is the only part of the night he wants to forget. They probably needed to talk about it – when he’s speaking, and Y/N’s staring at his mouth, he feels like he should bring it up, but the words always stick to the back of his throat like honey. 

It was inappropriate, Harry shouldn’t have agreed to do it but Y/N was so cute asking him and he’s human, after all. She wanted to kiss and Harry loved kisses and how could he deny her of such a simple pleasure in life? Especially when she said she didn’t get to do it often? It would have been criminal for him to refuse her! And Harry may participate heavily in unlawful, corrupt things, but he was no bloody monster – his job (in part) was to make Y/N happy, and if a kiss was what did that then so be it. 

(At least this is what he convinces himself.) 

Thinking about it either does two things for him: makes him hard, or gives him soft, twinkling feelings in his stomach. Thankfully, tonight it was the latter, so he revels in the sentiment and finds himself drowsy once again (he’d worked himself up enough that he felt wide awake which would not do – they still had a few hours to sleep and he wanted to make use of it). There is comfort in knowing that if Y/N starts to have her nightmares again, he’s right beside her – he wondered if he’d ever be able to be at her flat without wanting to be next to her.

What he said before she fell asleep, he meant – he wouldn’t let anyone or anything hurt her, and that includes a shitty dream. 

                                                              .                          .                          .

The gathering comes quicker than Y/N would have liked, but she figured it was better than the worry of it lingering like a gloomy cloud over her. Y/N had woken up that morning with a sort of weird relief tied into her anxiety; a premature peace was brought on by the fact the day was here and she was one step closer to getting it over with. No matter how unpleasant she would find it, most of these people were family, and if not family, then held a deep-seated, often fear-induced respect for her parents. It wasn’t like anyone would be blatantly mean to her or quiz her too hard on what she was doing, why she was doing it, where she was doing it, because. . .well, wouldn’t that make them look a touch suspicious? These sorts of questions would only be acceptable from her grandparents and that’s if they could talk about something other than how hard it is to use the bathroom the older they get. 

Y/N kept reminding herself of this in the hours leading up to the party and it made her feel much better. They were doing this because her grandparents were coming in from Dublin, where they had settled after passing the torch to her parents (neither was from Ireland, but both were drawn to the lush green hills and a seemingly endless supply of Guinness which is all they could wish for in their old age). Everyone would be much more intrigued by them than they would be by her – she felt silly for getting so worked up over going. Was it not a little self-absorbed to think everyone would want to know what she was doing?  Who gave a shit about what was going on with her besides a handful of other people? 

She had told this line of thinking to Niall who would be accompanying her to the party. “That’s awfully pessimistic but if that’s what makes you feel better then yeah, they’ll probably be focused on what your grandparents are chatting about. They’ve got some brutal fucking stories, but your Nan is so cute, you don’t expect her to be telling them.” 

It’s true; her Nan wears bright-colored cardigans and keeps her hair styled neatly in feather white curls. She knits, sews, and bakes cookies. When she was in town while Y/N was a child, she would take her (bodyguard-less, because “If something goes wrong, I’ll take care of it,”) to feed ducks in the park, or to pick out yarn for a blanket. Very normal, Nan-like things, so you really wouldn’t have guessed that she used to shoot people’s feet if they betrayed the family. 

The weather was much warmer today so Y/N wore a dress – her mum and Nan liked her in dresses, and though Y/N had a love-hate relationship with the garment, she’d like to make them both happy. A light blue, patchwork material that came just above her knees, with loose puffy short sleeves and a square neckline. Niall gave her a mocking gasp when she walked out in it, “I was half expecting to see you in sweats and a tank top, I never see you all dressed up.” 

“Because I’ve been on house arrest, dick,” she retorted, pulling her socks over her feet. 

With a snort, he pulled his phone out, “Harry’s g’na be so fucking jealous he didn’t see you in a dress.” 

“Huh?” Y/N slid her left foot into her shoe (the mary jane like shoe but was lacking the buckle that really made it a mary jane), “Why would he care?” 

“Because you look cute and he’s a sucker for you looking cute,” Niall says it like it’s obvious, confusion reworking his face into a confused frown, “He coos over like every cute thing you do.” 

“He’s just teasing.” 

A scoff leaves him, “Whatever you say – now smile for the camera.”  

Y/N smiled nice, big, and pretty, her head tilted dramatically and her middle finger stuck out toward him. It is the opposite of a deterrent for the blonde, who chortles as he takes rapid-fire pictures from varying angles, muttering something about, “See how you like it when this one goes to your Nan.” After the pictures are taken, she stands and smacks his arm lightheartedly. She wondered if Niall had actually sent it to Harry and her suspicions were confirmed just as soon as they got in the car to leave.

I can’t believe you’ve had such a cute dress and never told me or Goose, you know how much she loves dresses. She’s going to be so hurt.

The memory of Goose rolling around in a few of her dresses (and other various items of clothing but mostly her dresses) when Y/N was going through her closet (in a fit of pure boredom), plants itself into her brain. It makes her smile, even though she knew she’d be removing remnants of tortoiseshell fur off the fabric; she just wanted to scent her and all of her things. Harry told her Goose was in the midst of trying to adopt her but the paperwork is hard for a cat so it’d been taking some time. 

Rolling her eyes, she let her thumbs dart around the keyboard. 

Don’t use the cat as an excuse, pervert

The drive isn’t as awful and damning as she thought it might feel; it’s about 30 or so minutes out from where she stays depending on what traffic is like and Niall is on some soapbox about a drama he’s currently watching. She watches as the cityscape changes to suburbia, and from suburbia closer to the countryside. Not the house on stilts beside a river and a boat beside the car countryside, but the smarmy, affluent kind – where it wasn’t really countryside, but there were acres upon acres of land to own. The trees they pass are a blur of brown branches speckling with green as they shift to Spring, and bushes that never lost their green, to begin with.  

Anxiety still bubbles in her belly but more from the prospect of seeing people she hasn’t seen in a while, than it was from being worried they’d ask how she was doing. Because she realized she could A. Always lie, and B. Harry did give her a good idea the other week about opening some form of online shop. She’d started laying the groundwork for it down, so she could at the very least talk out of her ass about what she was doing. That was if anybody asked – she wouldn’t just bring it up on her own. 

Y/N finds that she just needs to tap into that part of herself she uses with her friends when she is able to go out with them. The part of her that completely erases any possibility that she has a life outside of what they were doing at that moment; narrowly avoiding questions that probe too deeply into her day-to-day, steering the conversations toward the person she was talking to and their life. Everyone likes to talk about themselves if you show you’re willing to listen, Y/N found that out relatively quickly. 

Her parents’ house, much like them, is gaudy and extravagant and too big. It’s a pretty place, but she just doesn’t necessarily see the need for columns lining the stairs leading up to the house, or the large brass lion knocker on the front door. The chandelier in the foyer when you first enter is about a thousand crystals that cast glittering shadows along the slate grey walls. From the foyer, directly in front of the door is a bifurcated staircase, and beneath either set of stairs splitting off from the main row, there was an entryway to the kitchen and a sitting area, both just on the side of too big. She could already see people moving around in the kitchen and could tell that most people were in the backyard where the majority of this would be taking place. 

This wasn’t the house she grew up in so there was no personal attachment to the walls, the floors, or the doorways. She doesn’t stop to linger around a spot on the wall she remembered being measured against when she was little, nor does she see little mirages of a small her running around the halls in a moment of nostalgia. Y/N walks through the foyer, her shoes clicking against the hardwood as she makes her way to the backyard. 

There were a lot of people to greet and she was feeling overwhelmed, but nobody noticed (nor seemed to care) about her arrival. It made it easy to slink around, seeking out her grandma who she knew would be sitting beneath one of the tarps they had set up shielding away the blinding son. She was in the middle of speaking to a group of people, so Y/N was going to stand and wait patiently off to the side, but her eyes flickered over, a smile broke out over her face, and she waved her closer, “Is that who I think it is?” Y/N lowered to hug her, “God, you’re looking like an adult! Where the hell is your grandfather, someone call the lazy sod over.” 

It was easy with her like it always was. Y/N spoke to her for a while, and hugged her granddad when he made his way over, (“Is your hair longer? Looks longer – you know, your mother had long hair when she first met your dad, like down to her bum, it was ridiculous! We used to beg her to get it cut, we thought it’d get trapped in a door.”). She spoke to them both briefly, and they told her they wanted to plan a trip where she came to Ireland for a visit, and she agreed immediately. Her Nan cooed and doted over her for a moment, pinching her cheek and murmuring something about her needing to sleep more, “I can tell you’re tired, you get that same look your dad gets. Why aren’t you sleeping? Is your mattress comfortable?” 

Y/N thinks, if her life was slightly different, these questions might annoy her but she revels in them. No matter how old you get, it’s nice to have someone worry over you a bit; to not see Y/N often but to know when she looks tired, to want to know why she isn’t sleeping, to wonder if it is her mattress. This is the kind of normal worry, about her sleeping habits, or how she’s eating, or if she’s happy – not about rivals and strangers to her that feel contempt for her parents but somehow translate that to hurting her. 

“We’ll talk later,” her Nan promised her, swatting her bum and giving her a small push, “Go mingle with your family, they’re missing you. And find your parents, tell them to stop working and come pamper me, I haven’t seen either of them for more than ten minutes.” 

She listens (her grandma is not someone you ignore orders from) and mingles. Y/N feels increasingly stupider for being so worried because really, nobody cares what she’s doing now, they mostly want to chat and reminisce over memories from years ago. She’s happy to listen, to laugh, to avoid any segues that might lead to delving into her life or opening a door where that might be a topic. Even if it was, she wondered if everyone just knew not to interrogate her – everyone is too worried about upsetting her parents to dig too deep into her shit. For all they know she could be doing under-the-cuff shit for them that nobody but she knew about (she isn’t but she could definitely could be – they aren’t above doing shifty things like that). 

Eventually, she did find her parents and it was. . .as it always was. They almost seemed like they were mid-meeting, which she hadn’t known, but all talked among themselves and the several people sitting beneath the stone gazebo (besides the pond they had built, with fish swimming around in it and a small waterfall because of course they had that) once she appeared, “Hi,” she greets unceremoniously, “Nan says stop working and go dote over her.” 

“Of course she did,” her mom smiled brightly, “Come here and hug me – where’d you get this dress? I love it, I’d be wearing that if I was just a few years younger.” 

“Try a decade,” her father teased, reaching over to squeeze her arm, “How’s my girl, huh? You all,” he turned to the others, “Go ahead and socialize, we’ll spend some time with our daughter.” 

They talk for a while, they’re the only ones inquiring about her life, and what she’s doing, and as she speaks it only then settles in her brain that they’ve got no clue. Y/N always imagines Thomas being puppeteer’d by her parents, doing as they say, but she forgets that for the most part, they do give him a fair amount of autonomy. Only relatively big notions (like her going to university) are discussed as a group. They do know that she’s being confined to her flat and they at least have the decency to  appear like they feel bad. 

“Once things settle,” her mum had patted her knee, “Things will be better, and you’ll be able to go out more. There’s. . .something going on right now, it’s better to air on the side of caution. Especially after what happened.” 

“Yeah, I get it,” she doesn’t. . .she tries her best to though, from their perspective, “Figure it out quick though, I want to go loiter at a mall or something soon.” 

She did end up telling them about her plan with art – after she told them about the art classes, which they seemed only vaguely aware of. Y/N went into it, about the cutesy drawings, about an online store, and they nod and say things like, “That sounds nice, Honey,” which is precisely what she expected. Something gentle, slightly dismissive, like they’re listening to a 12-year-old get overly enthused about her hobby. It was nice to talk about it with someone other than Harry though, even if she was certain they were only half listening. 

Her mother is the one to bring Harry up, sipping from her glass of wine, “Hm? He’s your newest guard is he not? How’s it going?” 

“It’s good,” she shrugged her shoulders, “He’s nice,” I kissed him the other week, “And he’s got two really cute cats that he brings over,” he slept in my bed the other night because I’m having horrible nightmares – do I look tired to you? Nan says I look tired, that’s probably why, “Yeah, it’s fine. Has he said anything?” 

Her father cleared his throat, “From what Thomas has said, he does well at all aspects of his job,” he gave a tight-lipped smile, and there’s. . .a look there, in his face, that caught Y/N’s attention, “Which is always good to hear, when we’re trusting someone with you.” 

“He does kind of remind me of someone,” her lips move before she can really think it through, bringing it up, but her dad’s disposition had changed ever so slightly – something that Y/N wouldn’t have noticed had she not been trying to read them the entire conversation, “I used to spend time with someone when I was little, who was named Harry. He just disappeared one day though.” 

As soon as her mother opened her mouth to respond, her father cut her off, with a smooth, almost immediate precision, “Hm, I think I remember him,” he reached for his drink from the table, “But he and his family moved quite a while ago, I believe. There was a company in Australia I believe, that wanted to hire him. That is if I’m remembering correctly.” 

Y/N thinks if her father had answered any other way, or even just slightly differently, she wouldn’t have questioned it. Maybe she would have finally given up, and let it go because even if she did know Harry from when she was younger he clearly didn’t want her to remember him for a reason. If she had anything else to do with her time, she probably wouldn’t have even cared that much to bring it up past asking Harry if she knew him from somewhere. 

But it was weird how he’d answered her. It was too fast – and how do you think you remember somebody, but go on to explain they moved to Australia? Plus, from what Y/N has gathered through bits and pieces she hears from her guards and from what she remembered when she was little, people don’t just stop working for her parents. They don’t just go on their merry way unless they are exiled, and even then, the offense would have to be pretty minor to come out unscathed. 

Once you’re in this world, you’re in it. There’s no dipping a toe in and deciding it’s too cold; the only option is to sink into it, down to the shoulders, and embrace it when the water lapping at your neck is finally warmer than the air blowing around above it. 

“Ohh, okay,” she plays nice and dumb, smiling gently, “Well that settles that then. I was just wondering.” 

The tension that had risen in his shoulders loosened, and he relaxed back in his chair, “Tell us more about this business you’d like to start – I know someone who specializes in marketing for start-ups and. . .” 

It’s brushed under the rug because of course it is, and Y/N keeps chatting with them a healthy amount before excusing herself to the restroom. This is when her parents make their move to visit with her Nan (“What a joy it is to dote on your mother-in-law,” her mother sighed, grabbing her wine), so they split ways. Y/N does have to piss, that much is true, but she’ll also be taking a detour to the library, where the photo albums were kept. Nobody questions where she’s going or why she’s going there, but she does manage to narrowly avoid Thomas who would have definitely not trusted her when she told him she wasn’t doing anything to rouse suspicion. 

The library, in comparison to the rest of the house, is actually one of the smaller rooms. She wondered if it was actually small or if the towering bookcases made it appear more compact than it was. On either side of the room, the walls were bookshelf-beside-bookshelf, filled to the brim with different novels, titles, hardbacks, and paperbacks (she doesn’t even think her parents are that into reading). Adjacent to the door, the wall is a window that reminded her of Edward’s room in Twilight, only this one was composed of bulletproof, thick glass and had large curtains that could be drawn if it was night. In the center of the room was a small couch, a coffee table, and a lamp (which has a very limited purpose when there’s a huge light fixture hanging from the ceiling that lights up the entire room as soon as it’s flicked on). 

It takes her a moment to skim over different bindings until she finds the odd, large bindings of the photobooks. They aren’t labeled but she remembered that her mother, in all her perfectionist glory, had them color coded by years. Y/N knew that vibrant purples, blues, and greens were from a period starting with her birth so that’s where she starts. She pulled out all of them, bundled them in her arms, and went to the couch. Vaguely does Y/N remember a time when she was always posing for pictures whether she wanted to or not, and while it wasn’t necessarily either of her parents taking the picture – someone was. Thomas, any bodyguard, her Nan, uncles, aunts, and cousins if they were all together. So there are plenty of pictures to sift through, almost an annoying amount. She thinks she’ll be in here for hours. 

Three photo albums in, she begins to lose hope. What was she even looking for? Some proof that Harry existed when she was little? Who was to say anyone had even taken a picture of them together in the first place? And for her parents to keep it, when one of them at the very least, was not interested in her knowing that he had existed in her life before a few months ago when he’d entered her flat, following close behind Niall? It was unlikely. 

She nibbles at her thumbnail, heaving a sigh and almost irately flipping through pages now when she sees it. 

When she sees him. 

If Y/N had looked through it any quicker she would have missed it. A picture at the park, two children stood beside the obnoxiously bright blue tunnel slides: one of them was her, in a frilly pink sundress that had large yellow flowers printed all over the front, and jelly shoes she has a vague memory of regretting because the mulch from the ground kept scratching her. She had a big, front toothless grin, her head over-exaggerated in its tilt and one of her hands were held up like she was waving. Her arm was wrapped around a boy, just a little taller than her, who had awful cargo shorts you could only get away with wearing at 9 and a green shirt with a FIFA logo. His hair was brown, cut short, his eyes were light, she could tell, and he had two dimples just as she remembered. Looking at this photo, she knew for sure. 

It was him. 

That fucking liar. 

She carefully slides the delicate paper from the plastic sheet and presses it off to the side, before continuing to flip through. One picture would be enough, she knew, but she wanted to build an arsenal of proof. He could try to explain away one picture, but not several. Not when she could tell the structure of his face, the way one side of his mouth has always pulled up higher when he smiled, the crinkles beside his eye when he grins. 

Y/N is conflicted, about whether to be happy or upset or whatever she was feeling. She was happy that she had been right this whole time. She was irritated because he’d been lying to her and her dad just lied straight to her face, but she wondered for what reason it was important that she didn’t know. And she was confused, because. . .well, where the fuck had he gone? From at least four of the photo albums, she finds around five photos from each of them, up until she was around 10. 

She’d worried a sore into the inside of her bottom lip biting at it with fretted teeth, and her forehead ached from the deep furrow she’d had the entire time she flicked through the albums. Y/N was ready to go home, but she knew she’d have to stay for a while longer. 

Just as she was sliding the pictures into her purse, zipping it closed, the door of the library opened. She tenses until she realizes it’s Niall, who squints his eyes, “What are you doing in here?” 

“Hiding and going down memory lane.” She dismisses him quickly, collecting the albums and walking them back to where she’d found them, “Have they started serving food yet? I’m fucking starving.” 

“Watch your mouth, your Nan could be around any corner. She’s quiet on her feet,” he playfully scolded her, not probing any further into her reasonings for being in here, “That’s why I came to get you, the caterers finally have everything set up and I knew you’d fuss if I ate without you.” 

She scoffed, “Thanks, and for the record, I don’t fuss, I hit.” 

He pouted his mouth, rubbing his arm where she’d swatted him earlier, “Don’t I know it.” 

                                                                    .                     .                   .

Y/N loses her nerve. 

For a while, she was riled up and ready for an argument (though she doubts Harry would actually argue with her); Harry was supposed to come to see her that night, so she had very little time to mentally prepare. But from that little time she did get, she’d prepared to let him walk in, sit down, then slam the pictures down on the table in front of him and demand answers. Like why he lied before, why her father lied today, and why he left in the first place. Does it matter? No, not necessarily, and she doesn’t think it would change how anything is right now, but at the end of the day, Y/N is nosy and confused and wants to know why everyone else is in on this and not her. Just like everything else in her life, she is kept in the dark, and she’d just been praising Harry for being the only one who ever kept her in the know, telling her more than anyone else. 

And she thinks if it had been anyone else, she probably would have. If she had looked through those albums and seen a photo of Niall with her, she would have immediately thrown it at him and asked him what the fuck it was about. 

Yet as soon as she saw Harry, who smiled brightly at her as he walked in, holding two strawberry shakes with a big grin on his face. . .she just couldn’t. 

“I brought you a treat,” he told her, kicking the door shut with his foot, “It’s a celebration shake. Do you feel relieved having done it and gotten it over with?” 

It almost felt silly, to think about doing it how she had planned. To show him the photos, like an I told you so! I’m right, you’re wrong, I did know you – it felt like a petulant way to approach the subject. And if there was a good reason that they didn’t want her to know. . .if there was any reason at all, really, why should she have to force his hand in telling her? To shove proof in his face, catch him off guard, guilt him into telling her. . .it just didn’t feel right. She wanted to know, and part of her felt she deserved to know, but maybe not like this. 

She cleared her throat, and smiled gently, “Yeah,” she told him, “It wasn’t too bad.” 

“See! I told you it’d be just fine,” he handed her the shake, “I’ll admit, I am jealous Niall got to go with you in that dress. It was adorable – you look so pretty when you’re all dressed up. Well, you’re pretty always, actually, but I do love dresses.” 

Y/N feels her face warm, mouth pulled into a frown, “Don’t tease me,” she grumbled, pulling the straw of the shake between her lips, but she moves her legs out of the way for him to sit with her on the couch. 

“I’m not teasing,” he defended himself, “Really, I think you’re pretty in whatever you feel comfortable in.” 

Y/N nudged him with her foot, and let the words, I knew you when I was little, I have pictures – fizzle out in her throat. She wants to know – so badly does she want to know, but she just can’t give a reason why she would need to know. And she guesses part of her is a little scared that it might change things between them. There were a lot of things Y/N wanted but that wasn’t one of them; she’d like to keep getting closer to him, to keep looking at him and feeling safe, for that bubble of warmth and comfort to arise in her belly every time he stepped through the door. 

She liked how things were now, so maybe she was okay not knowing. Not yet, at least. . .for a little while. 

“Where’s your head at, hm?” Harry hums low, sweet, and soft; he’s in the usual attire, though the white button-up was loosened by a few buttons and the cuff links were undone. His suit pants were navy blue today, and he treated them with little care, his foot pulled up onto the couch, rolling the leg of the trousers up. He is turned to face her, the hand on his phone lowering so she had his full attention, “You seem far away.” 

“Nowhere,” she lies easily, “I’m just sleepy.” 

Harry gives her a smile – it’s gentle but still big, and she’s suddenly acutely aware of how her heart races when she witnesses it, dimples and all, “Liarrr,” he sing-songs, but uses his free hand to squeeze her calf over the pajama pants she’s wearing, “You can tell me when you’re ready if you want to talk about it,” his voice sinks into her muscles, melts them, “I’ll wait for you. Until then, I reckon we should watch that show. . .the new one with the zombies everyone is talking about?” He would have a good reason, right? Harry wouldn’t just lie to her. . .Harry doesn’t just lie. 

Y/N nodded, her lips twitching up, “So you finally admit you want to see it,” she puffed a laugh from her chest, “After so vehemently denying that you’re interested in zombie shows at all!” 

“To be fair, a lot of them can be shit!” He whined, “But I’ve seen a lot of good reviews, and I heard it’s about some mind-controlling fungus which is a slight deviation from other versions of the story. And legally, you can’t be mean to me because I’m so sweet and brought you a shake.”  

She grabbed the remote, “You’re whiny.” 

“I reckon I deserve to be the whiny one sometimes, you get to be 24/7.” He retorted and Y/N gasped, mouth falling open. 

“I am not whiny!” 

“Oh? Was that a whine I just heard?” When she huffs at him and starts turning her body away from him, he chuckles low, stopping her from twisting her body completely by laying a hand on her bicep, “C’mon, c’mon, I’m kidding.” He scoots to the other end of the couch, “Here, do you want to stretch out? I’m sure your feet must hurt after being in those shoes all day.” 

Her response is to kick her feet up without hesitation, but she wiggles down so that they lay in his lap, “Will you rub them?” Because if he’s going to lie to her about knowing her and then suddenly return to her life as her bodyguard, she thinks she deserves a foot rub out of it at the very, absolute least. 

“Ah,” he places one of her throw pillows in his lap, before delicately laying her foot on top of it, “You just want me here to dote on you.” 

She nodded her head, “Correct.” 

“Brat,” he digs his thumb into the sole of her foot anyway, just above her heel, “Get the show started or I’ll start tickling.” 

Because it’s easy with Harry – it’s always been easy with Harry and that’s what she liked. 

Why make it difficult? 

Why bring it up? 

                                                                 .                             .                           .

The days go on as normal; eventually, they lessen their stringent rules on where she can and cannot go. It’s only a little bit, but she and Harry can finally return to their art classes, where Y/N found the excuse for their absence was they had taken a trip to Spain (she lies about how amazing the rooftop tour of Santiago de Compostela Cathedral is beautiful knowing full well she didn’t even know you could get tours on the rooftop).  They returned just in time for a color theory lesson that goes from a fun grade school color wheel to something that melted her brain. By the end of it, it had turned into something so complex, even Harry seemed genuinely astonished by how deep into it they went. 

“We’ll have to practice later,” he promised, “‘cos I’m going to forget everything she said after the first hour.” 

Y/N goes to a brunch with her Nan, who – albeit reluctantly – lets Harry attend. Thomas was still hyper-aware of any possible danger (as he always is) and thought it would be dangerous for not only Y/N but her Nan (who has made plenty of enemies in her day) to be alone out and about together. Harry offered to sit at a separate table once he noticed her Nan’s displeasure but she waved the idea away, “Why should you be punished because I disagree with how they’re doing things? You’ll sit with us.” 

If Y/N looked back on it, she thinks that Grandma always had a problem with how they raised Y/N. Very, very, very vaguely she has an indistinct and fuzzy memory of her scolding Y/N’s father, “This is no life to live,” she told him, “To force her in this house! To not even let her attend school? She needs friends outside of her cousins and a life. I didn’t raise you to be so stupid.” And Y/N thinks, relatively close to that, she’d been enrolled in a private school (though she moved around quite a bit following that). 

It was nice to spend time with her, and she thinks – even without trying – Harry had managed to woo her Nan in about five minutes. If she let herself indulge, even just for a second, it was like having her boyfriend meet her family but she wipes the thought away as soon as it arises. 

Because she’s been having a lot of thoughts like that; she’d begun labeling them her “senseless, delusional” moments where she even for a second considered having feelings for Harry. They started out infrequently, only every so often (especially when he did something particularly sweet) but with time they grew more recurrent. It seemed, like some sort of sick twist, that they came on stronger once she realized that she knew him from when they were little. 

Which, Y/N thinks if she were more emotionally sound, the opposite would have occurred. She should be put off and repelled, but instead, she finds herself feeling more and more fond. 

Now she notices things that she hadn’t before. All the little idiosyncrasies of hers that he remembered from childhood: how she liked jelly candies and her favorite flavors, the board games she used to play, the stuffies she always liked, the way she hated the sound of nails on a holographic picture, how she thinks the sandwich just tastes better when it’s cut diagonally. They were things that, for whatever reason, she never questioned why he knew before but now that she thought about it, it would be incredibly odd had he known them without knowing her. 

And over time she just realizes that he brings the kind of comfort that only a childhood friend could bring. Familiarity, a tender warmth, the idea that someone still likes you even as you’ve grown and changed into the person you are today. Fundamentally, their relationship was always somewhat forced she guesses – their parents (or his parents and Thomas) probably arranged the first play date. And Thomas definitely arranged for him to be her bodyguard. They were compelled to be in the same space together, but enjoying their time with each other. . .that was them. Harry laughing at her jokes, the feeling that fizzles in her veins when his cheeks get pink, how excited she is to see him when it’s his night with her, the borderline domestic relationship she’s developed with his cats – all of that wasn’t arranged. 

They were friends, Y/N truly believed that. They had been forever now, she guesses, if the decade-long gap in between was dissolved. 

Y/N thumbs through the photos when she’s in her room at night, gnawing at her bottom lip, a zoetrope of memories flickering through her brain. Some things she recalls, some things she doesn’t, and she recalls feelings more than she does conversations or scenarios. She was always happy, she knew that, and she always felt like a normal kid with him. She could tell him things and they could play and things were good and normal.

She found herself wanting to kiss him more every day, which is a bit of a problem. They still hadn’t spoken about the first, logically they should do that before having a second, but the want for it itches beneath her skin. Y/N’s certain he had caught her staring at his mouth several times, probably more than she would like to admit, but he had never really brought it up before. 

Until a random Thursday, at least, when she’d spent most of the day drawing and perfecting different sketches for the first round of stickers (she does a lot of random original cutesy drawings, then some that involve different tv shows and movies – people like to buy cute versions of characters they like, Y/N knows that because she does it all the time). Harry started talking about. . .something, Y/N couldn’t remember, but what she did remember was how his mouth went from forming around the word “apples” to smirking. 

“You stare at my mouth an awful lot,” he taunted her, and Y/N. . .she was feeling more sensitive that day; less fiery than she usually was, so she tilted her head down and murmured an apology, “No, wait,” he clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth, “I was only kidding, Sweetheart, you don’t need to apologize for anything.” 

When she hummed and made no move to look back at him, she felt careful fingers on her chin, guiding her face toward him, “C’mon, Darling, don’t hide. It’s okay! You can look at my mouth all you want, lord knows I’m always looking at yours.” 

Her face feels hot and she swallows thickly, “You’re looking at mine?” 

“Mhm,” he hesitated for a moment, before the pad of his thumb grazed over her bottom lip, “More than I’d like to admit.” 

“We could always,” she spoke against his petting thumb, “We could kiss again then if you want.” 

He leaned in, moments from smearing his mouth against hers, but there was a knock at the door. 

The pizza they ordered had come. 

That was the closest they’d been to kissing again, but once Harry went to answer the door and sign for the food the moment had left them. Y/N is flustered, warm in her face, and has zero nerve to return where they had left off so she nudges him with her foot when he sits back beside her and calls him a wimp when he fusses over it. Things go back to normal – the same as they usually were.

(It was only later that night when she was alone in her bed when she felt inconceivably horny, did she remember that her period was coming. The weeks leading up to it always left her insatiable, sensitive in both her feelings and touch, and if she snuck her hand between her thighs to the thought of kissing him again, well that’s her own problem.) 

The nightmares start to fade too, which is nice, though that means Harry spends less time in her room. He’d made a habit of sleeping beside her, or at least laying down near her until she fell asleep, and she’d always wake up the next morning alone. Though without fail, as soon as a dream seemed to sour, Harry was there at her side to wake her from it, always attentive, squeezing the shoulder he’d just been shaking, “S’just a dream, baby, you’re okay.” He’d calm her down, “Go back to bed.” 

“Thank you, nightmare killer,” she would murmur, tongue feeling heavy in her mouth, and Harry would laugh, and she’d fall back asleep. 

Things were nice, starting to feel a little normal again with the additive closeness she felt with Harry despite knowing what she did. She was starting to feel comfortable again, and not stuck inside all of the time, and she felt like she was getting somewhere with her drawings, growing closer and closer to being able to open her shop. 

And then, one night, Harry is waking her up frantically. 

Harry is not a frantic person – he is usually calm, collected, and measured. Y/N has never truly seen him in action but she’s sure he makes decisions with precision and tact that typically comes from years of experience, though she doesn’t think he’s been at this that long. He’s levelheaded and respectful and acts well under pressure – that makes him deadly. 

So to see him urging her awake, moving quickly, telling her to, “Get up, we need to leave.” Makes her adrenalin spike and panic drip from her ears. 

“What?” She was still foggy, disoriented – what time was it? Her clock says it’s three in the morning. 

“We need to go,” he is reaching beneath her bed, dragging out a bag – her “Go” bag, is what she always called it, something Thomas had instructed her to make even when she was little. It was a duffel of clothes, toiletries, and things that would take too long to grab in the event she needed to leave an area quickly. She’d only ever had to grab it once before when she was younger, but she couldn’t remember why. Though now that she thinks about it, it seemed like it might have been close to the time that Harry had disappeared.

She doesn’t check her go bag often, beyond replacing the toiletries that may have lived past their shelf date, so she was also surprised to see Harry pull a gun from it. A gasp leaves her mouth, she’s still moving too slowly, trying to catch up with what’s happening as he’s fitting it into the holster, “Wait, what? What’s wrong? What’s happening?” 

He’s zipping the bag up, “Bill was fired –” 

“What?” 

“- and it got ugly, he shot at Martha. There’s reason to believe he’s on his way here.” 

“But why –” 

“There’s no time to explain everything,” he threw the duffle over his shoulder, “We need to leave.” 

Her head is spinning, she knows she’s probably annoying him, but she can’t help but search for something to say, for a question to ask, to try and understand what was happening, if she was dreaming or not, if this was another nightmare, “What –” 

This time Harry cuts her off by taking her face in his hands – he was still gentle, but she could sense the urgency, “I will explain as soon as we’re safe, I promise you, baby, but right now we need to leave okay? Get your phone but turn off the location. We’ll go down the back stairwell to the parking garage.” She still seems hesitant, confused, but Harry runs a thumb over her cheek, “Do you trust me?” 

And she does. . .she trusts him implicity, more than she should, probably.   

“Yes.” 

“Good,” he replied quickly, “Come on.” 

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet Cute - Ace's Story - 10

Source for pic

Firestarter 10

Word Count: 6335

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader, slight NSFW (It's mature, not explicit), slightly sugestive behaviour, flirting, jealousy, frenemies, sexual tension, miscommunication, unresolved tension, slight angst, slow-burn, romantic comedy vibes, alternate universe modern setting, swearing, drinking, fluff, feelings realisation, denial of feelings.

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You intended to have some alone time, to reflect and heal, but your childhood friend's older brother, Ace, seems to be there just to upset that fragile peace you're striving for. He's a flirt and a womaniser. But why does he also have to be so handsome and perfect? And how long can you resist his charms?

Notes: This chapter was a rollercoaster of emotions! But now we're only missing the epilogue with our happy ending 😊 I will be posting the new poll (for voting on the next story of the meet-cute series) this week! Also, if you want to check out my 100 followers event, feel free to do it! Full disclosure, answers to requests may take a while! Thank you for reading this! ❤️

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn

Masterlist for previous introductory chapters.

|Previous Chapter| | |Final Chapter|

Ace sets his phone down but keeps staring at it. He has a silly little grin on his lips though his eyes are furrowed with apprehension. They're enjoying a tiny break at the fire station, after helping clear the gutters that were blocking the water from flowing freely. 

All the firemen are on standby, waiting for the storm to pass and hoping for a calmer evening. 

Luffy pats Ace on the shoulder with a small smile curling his lips. “What's with the face?”

Ace sighs as he whispers your name, his fingers tousling his hair. “She managed to get a call through and though I barely heard her, she said she was coming over. And that she loves me.”

Ace can't stop a grin from pulling the ends of his lips and Luffy is smiling with him. “But that's good, right? Why do you look worried?”

“I really didn't want her driving in this weather.”

Luffy hums and nods, his eyes darting to the large windows where fat drops of rain pound incessantly. “She'll be fine, Ace! Don't worry!” He pats Ace on the back again while getting up. “Want the last slice of pizza?

And suddenly they're both fighting for the slice, Ace trying to forget that you're driving along dangerous roads and Luffy helping him do it.

-*-

The ring from the station’s phone is shrill and piercing. Ace jumps before picking it up. He's been watching the time and you were supposed to have arrived already. He can't stop the feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. 

“Hello, go for Ace.” Even his normal greeting seems strained. 

“Ace, hi! It's Marco.” The older man has an urgency in his tone and Ace snaps in his seat, nudging Luffy as he sets the call on speaker. The connection still feels broken and with a lot of static, but he can make out the words. “There's been an accident at the intersection before the turn to the road that leads to the fire station. I don't know how long, but the car seems to have rolled over at least once. There's a girl inside and she's unresponsive. I didn't touch her but there's a lot of blood-...”

Ace scrapes his chair against the floor as he gets up, not even letting Marco finish the call. His heart is pounding against his chest relentlessly. In his head an unending litany set on repeat: no, no, no, please God, no! 

He feels cold and numb and he doesn't wait for his fellow fireman nor for the truck. He grabs his jeep keys and slides down the pole, running, not answering Luffy’s calls, not hearing anything else but the pounding of his heart in his ears. 

No, no, no, please God, no! 

-*-

When you entered Shanks’ house, a smile on your lips, calling for daddy, he felt a pang in his heart. You had grown up into a fine, beautiful woman. The burn of desire tingled and Ace knew he wanted you. 

He wanted you badly. 

But you were Shanks’ daughter, Luffy’s friend. Off-limits for his little one-night stands. It was okay, he could admire you from afar. 

It got a little harder when you stopped on the stairs and his nose rubbed against your ass. It got even harder once he found your vibrator. God, not even ten minutes had passed since you had entered your home and already he knew you would be the death of him. 

Learning that you were cheated on was like a punch to the gut. After what had happened to you and, as soon as you heard of his reputation, you would never trust him enough to let him get close to you. 

But it was fine. He just wanted to be friends. You were off-limits. 

-*- 

Ace closes the jeep door with a bang and turns the ignition, the windshield wipers swiping into action instantly as the rain keeps its downpour. It's not supposed to be dark yet, but the storm makes everything bleak and grey. 

And he's so afraid. 

It can't be you. It's not you. He's going to help whoever this person is and then he's going to find out that you never left home because your car didn't start. And you just couldn't contact him because of the lines. 

That is it. It isn't you. It can't be you. 

No, no, no, please God, no!

-*-

When you called Shanks because your car wouldn't start, Ace immediately offered to pick you up. Shanks looked at him with a sidelong glance, especially after the battery remark he made to you. As if an older man wasn't aware of toys. 

“Freaking kids think they know everything.” 

But then he agreed, simply because he had a lot of work to do on the property and picking you up would interfere with his plans. 

And the sight of you bending over the hood of your car in that little dress, leaving the lowest part of your butt cheeks exposed, almost gave him a heart attack. Damn, how could you be so cute without even trying? That was what made you even more alluring to him. He couldn't stop the flirty remarks from slipping out of his mouth and seeing you flustered was just the icing on the cake. 

That car almost hitting you had made his heart jump into his throat. What a freaking reckless driver. He barely noticed that he had pulled you into a tight hug, gripping you as if he were about to lose you. 

Except Ace, true to his nature, couldn't help but flirt with the girls who called for his attention. He thrived on attention, he knew that it was a terrible fault. 

One of many. 

And if at first he didn't realise why you had suddenly become so pissed at him and his behaviour, as soon as you snapped it hit him. And you were right. He gave those nicknames to girls because it was easier. He wouldn't get attached this way. He never meant to get attached. 

But you… 

Damn you were built differently. And he had to stop thinking about you like that. Because you deserved much better than a good-for-nothing man like him. 

-*-

He knows he can't go over the limit. He's a firefighter. He knows the risks and the roads are like butter. 

Yet he can't stop his foot from pressing on the accelerator. Even though he knows it can't be you. It really can't. 

You said you loved him. He needs to let you know he feels the same. 

It can't be you.

“Fuck!” He growls as his hand hits the steering wheel and his foot presses down further. 

As soon as his eyes spot the crashed car, his heart sinks and his breath catches in his throat. 

It's your car. 

-*-

The first time you exchanged messages he had the silliest grin pulling at his lips. You were actually responding to his flirts and, for some otherworldly reason, you apologised to him. 

He didn't really think you needed to apologise, but if you were being nice to him, he wasn't going to deny you anything. 

He craved to see you, to hear you, to touch you. 

You wouldn't believe how happily surprised he was when he saw you on your morning run. Obviously he had to tease you, taunt you into a little bet. 

Winning a kiss was a long shot. He made the pitch but didn't expect you to accept at all. When you did, he almost wanted to sprint so he could win right away. But he managed to keep his cool. 

Barely. 

When you tripped and Ace grabbed you, he felt a strange sensation in the pit of his stomach. It was the way you smelled. Like some sort of flowers - from your shampoo, probably - and the natural tanginess of your sweat. It beckoned to him, leaving him breathless and dazed. 

It also didn't help that you were flush against him, your breasts heaving as your chest pressed against his. It filled his head with lewd thoughts and suddenly all he wanted was to have you squirming beneath him, panting for a whole different reason, sweating from ecstasy and not effort. 

It was a good thing you were distracted and didn't notice the hunger in his eyes, because he would have devoured you right there. 

When the time for the kiss neared and he had you pinned against the fence, his eyes darkened at the sight of your parted lips and the way you gasped slightly as he lifted your chin with two fingers. It took all the self-control he possessed to turn his face at the last possible second so that his kiss landed mostly on your cheek. 

His heart thumped like a drum against his chest and, for once, he was glad he listened to his brain instead of his urges. Otherwise it would have been very hard to stop at just a kiss. 

And he had to keep reminding himself that you were off-limits. That he couldn't treat you as a one-night stand. 

Even though he was starting to realise that you might be more than just a one-night stand. 

-*-

Ace has enough judgement to park the car on the side of the road with the blinkers on to prevent further accidents, yet he sprints out in a rush, completely ignoring Marco as he approaches you. 

The unending litany of ‘No, no, no, please God, no!’ keeps leaving his lips as if it were a prayer. 

As soon as his eyes meet your face, tears start to mingle with the heavy rain pouring down. Through the broken window he realises that the airbags have deployed and are now deflated and you are slumped over the steering wheel. Your face is covered in blood from a cut on your forehead and there are shards of glass on your arms. Your side of the car is crumpled from the impact and, as he tries the door, he finds that it's jammed. 

Worse, you're unconscious. 

His hand reaches in as he checks you and he almost freezes in place. You're not breathing. 

“I'm here, babe. I've got you. I've got you.” He murmurs the words to you and keeps repeating another set in his head:

No, no, no, please God, no!

-*-

Ace couldn't get you out of his head. He tried to distract himself with music, movies, even a book! Yet he kept thinking about your body close to his, your parted, panting lips and the way your eyes fluttered closed before he approached you. His body betrayed him and he kept thinking about the way your lips would feel against his, or how your skin would mould so well against his fingers. 

He needed to be with you. 

Even if it was just to see you, talk with you and spend time breathing the same air as you. He felt as if he was going crazy. He knew how desire felt, he had wanted other girls before - normally fulfilling that need quickly - but with you, he began to understand that it was deeper than just urges that needed to be met. 

So when you knocked on the fire station door, he was set on talking with you, opening himself up and listening to what you had to say. Create a friendship. A steady base to build trust upon. He could do that. He knew he was a good friend. 

He just wasn't expecting to see you looking like that when he opened the door. Thighs exposed, just a little, a cheeky grin on your lips and your smell, God, your smell. It had been years since he had been this nervous around a girl. 

You did something to him that he couldn't quite explain. 

Especially to his heart. Should he see Law at the clinic about it? It had been beating strangely for a while. 

Deuce behaved like an idiot, as usual, and insisted on seeing you, which made Ace jealous. Curious. He was not usually the jealous type. Mainly because he was never with a girl long enough to be jealous of her being around other guys, or because, even if she did, he wasn't interested enough to be jealous. 

Except with you… Damn… he felt a strange burning flame inside him roar to life. It was as if he wanted to keep you forever, to make you his. 

-*-

Ace runs to the passenger’s side of the car and tries the door, cursing loudly when it doesn't budge. Using his elbow and not caring one bit about getting cut, he shatters the glass, taking care to do it gently so as not to hit you with more shards. Reaching in with trembling hands, he unlocks the door and climbs inside. 

“I'm here love. I'm here. You're going to be fine. I'll get you out.” He keeps murmuring. 

His fireman training does not fail him as removes the seat belt and carefully manoeuvres you out of the car, gentle hands supporting your head and neck, trying to hurry, but doing everything in his power to be careful. 

“There, see, we're out. Come on baby. Breathe for me.”

He sets you down on the wet, muddy road and tilts your head back to clear your airways, his fingers pressing gently against your face. Your skin feels cold and clammy to the touch and his tears keep falling and mingling helplessly with the rain. 

No, no, no, please God, no!

“Breathe, baby!” He pinches your nose as he leans down and huffs two breaths into your unmoving lungs. 

Nothing. 

A ragged sob makes his shoulders heave before he places his hands against your chest and starts CPR. 

“You can't leave me now!” He whispers your name. “Fight!”

No, no, no, please God, no!

-*-

The day after your visit to the fire station had Ace walking on cloud nine. When he took girls to the station, it was not just for talking. Never just for that. 

Let alone speak about his worries and how he feels regarding his grandfather. Yet, with you, it felt natural, easy, nice. He wanted to get to know you and wanted you to get to know all of him. 

So he couldn't stop his silly grin from making his freckles dance. 

Not even when his grandfather asked him why he was behaving so foolishly. He kept raving about you, how you'd grown up, how interesting you were, how happy you made him feel. 

Garp was grinning and shaking his head by the end of lunch, calling him a lovesick fool, and it took him a while to realise that he might be becoming just that. Because he didn't remember feeling this way about any girl. Ever. 

Even Garp’s cleaning lady noticed the way he was acting when she was cleaning his room, a mocking smile on her face as she closed the curtains of his room, to keep the afternoon sun out, after finishing. 

He kept wanting to talk to you, but you took so long to answer his texts that he thought he had done something wrong. Again. When you finally reached out, he had to hear your voice. And he ended up talking with you until dinner time. Time flew when he was spending it with you. And he'd be damned if he wanted it to end. 

At the party he was very excited to see you. His heart kept thrumming against his chest as if he were some lovesick teenager and he had to ask Sanji to make him an extra strong drink because he was nervous to see you. 

As it turned out, you ended up drinking his drink and a whole bottle by yourself, as if you were trying hard to get wasted, only he didn't know why. But you looked wonderful in that tight red dress. More than wonderful, actually. You were breathtaking. And he had to keep telling his and Luffy's friends that you were off-limits.

Even to himself. 

He needed a constant reminder of that important fact as well. But it was damn hard to restrain himself once he took you away from the party to nurse your drunken self, and you sat on his lap and told him to kiss you. To have you. To fuck you. 

He didn't know how he managed to do it or where he found the strength or willpower, but he pushed you away from him. With his heart hammering, cock twitching and lips tingling to taste every inch of you. 

But not like this. 

He wanted to have you, he couldn't wait to hear your pretty voice moaning his name or how melodic your mewls and sighs would sound in the throes of pleasure. How you'd writhe and squirm under his touch or how you'd beg for him when he teased you. 

But you were drunk. It wasn’t okay. 

And after he put you to sleep and the party lulled and ended in the wee hours of the night, he returned to his room, having declined advances from many pretty girls, like he had been doing since you had crashed into his life unannounced but not at all unwanted. He watched your sleeping form for who knew how long, before his eyes grew drowsy and he fell asleep on the floor, close to you. Hearing you breathe, sensing your presence and smelling your scent. A scent you'd leave on his sheets for days that were bound to give him the best and most tortuous dreams of his life. 

How he wished he could wrap his arms around you. 

The harsh reality came crashing down - literally - on him in the morning and with you straddling him. Barely having a sense of what was going on, having just woken up, the first thing he realised was that you were squirming and grinding against his cock which was hard already because he couldn't quite discern if this was a dream or reality. 

Begging you to stop squirming and digging his fingers deep into the flesh of your hips grounded him. It was reality. And by heaven above, you on top of him, looking all flustered and dishevelled, as if you'd just ended a steamy makeout session, had him seeing white as he gripped you hard to avoid losing control and kissing you. You were so fucking perfect. 

And then you told him: ‘don't do that’, which he immediately thought that you were talking about the kiss that he wanted to give you, so he got up. Upset, frustrated and hit hard by the reality of the situation. 

You'd never think of him as more than a friend. You'd never trust him enough to realise you were special to him. 

More than just any girl. 

You were the girl. 

-*-

Ace keeps counting aloud, forcing the words out of his mouth to stay in control. Begging for his training to ground him, before he loses himself in agony and pain. 

“One, two, three…”

Two breaths of air straight into your lungs, another moment to see if your chest moves. 

Nothing. 

Desperation sinks in and makes his hands tremble. The cold rain is relentless against his skin and yours, turning everything bleak and sorrowful. 

“Baby, please, please! Breathe!”

He continues administering CPR, his own breath coming in short gasps as tears and ragged sobs make his shoulders heave and shake. 

“Come back to me…” He mutters to the wind, hoping that, wherever you are, his words can reach you.

-*-

Ace's day hadn't started well after that debacle, but that all changed when he saw you by the window, clad in nothing but a very small towel. You apologised for your behaviour over the phone and his heart sank further. 

As if it could be any more obvious that you did not want to be with him. You had the perfect excuse: alcohol. 

Yet, he could hardly be upset with you when you spoke in your sweet voice telling him you liked that he called you Firestarter. It made his stomach somersault and his heart skip a beat. So much so that he decided to make plans to meet at the Jubilee. Because he couldn't wait to see you again. 

He needed to be near you. That much he had made peace with. 

Now he just needed to prove that he could be good for you, that he could help you heal, and that you two could work as a couple. 

Easier said than done, really.

He had been selling calendars for a while at the Jubilee, making small talk with girls who approached the stand giggling, interacting with friends and acquaintances and even entertaining some kids who wanted to try on the fireman’s equipment. 

Yet, his peripheral vision had been on alert since dinner time - the time you told him you would come by - and, as soon as he spotted you, he grinned and told Luffy and his coworkers that he was going on his break.

The opportunity to show you how he felt about you presented itself earlier than expected. As he held you in his arms, faces inching closer together and his heart beating relentlessly, creating a savage rhythm against his chest, he knew his kiss would show you just how perfect you could be together.

Except the kiss never happened. And Ace wanted to kill Deuce for ruining a perfect moment. Because when you both settled down by the swings and he opened up his heart a little bit, you shut him down by repeating that you’re good friends and that your friendship was important, coldly and harshly reminding him that that’s all you’ll ever be.

Friends.

He was ready to call it a night and didn't want to bother you with his presence anymore because he was being a sourpuss. And it wasn’t your fault! If you were not ready to commit - or didn't want to commit to him - he needed to understand that. And fucking move on.

Yet even if he was done with the night, the night was not done with him, and duty called as he saved a girl from a falling stand. She thanked him, flirted with him, and even slipped him her number with an offer to buy him a drink. 

But you made such a ruckus that his eyes wandered to you and he found himself smiling and realising that if you just wanted to be friends, he was fine with it. He would much rather have that, than not have you at all.

So he politely declined the invitation for a drink by the beautiful lady - told her that they definitely should do that, but some other time - and sauntered over to your clumsy side, seeing you try and pick up the mess you made out of Makino’s jewellery stand.

Your playful banter was back on track and it was like your miscommunication issues had never really happened. He was fine with you just being friends. Perfectly fine. Even if he had to repeat it to himself over and over again. 

The matching bracelets were just a nice addition to your friendship, even if Makino was making it look like it was something more. And, to be truthful, he found your embarrassed smile and demeanour quite endearing and adorable. 

Until the beautiful girl from earlier approached with that drink offer again. 

And you bolted out of there as quickly as lightning, giving all sorts of mixed signals, because if you just wanted to be friends, why would you be saddened by him hanging out with another girl?

He saw your tears. 

And they troubled him.

-*-

Ace faintly hears the sirens of the fire truck approaching. The storm feeds a distant roar of noise to his eardrums, but the ringing from the shock and despair is what prevails above the noise.

He just wants to hear you breathing.

That’s the sound he wants - needs! - to hear the most. A gasp, a sigh, a cough… he’ll take anything! As long as you come back to him.

“One… two… three…”

Another two breaths of air to revive your lungs, more compressions, more prayers, more whispers, more tears…

He would give all of himself - everything! - if it got you to come back.

“Don’t leave me, love. Don’t leave me…”

-*-

Ace always enjoyed beach parties in the summer. Spirits were high, people were cheerful, and there was always more than one girl willing to go somewhere else with him. Somewhere away from the party where they could have fun.

This party, though, he expected to be different. 

He couldn't help but try his luck with you again. Maybe if he kept hanging around you, you could start to see him as more than just a friend. Heaven knew that you two shared the sexual tension of an uncut red wire in a spy movie: just ready to explode at any given moment. 

He knew he could be smooth, suave, and charm his way into your heart. Even if it took you a while, he was willing to wait. Now that he'd found you, he was not so willing to lose you.

But none of the smoothness of the universe, nor all the charm in the world, could have prepared him for the vision of loveliness that you provided. Lulled by the soft splashes of the waves and the echoing calls of gulls, you stood at the edge of the ocean, sunbathed and glowing as if you were something out of a myth. Your hair blew in the wind and your eyes were closed, keeping out all the chaos of the outside world and losing yourself inside your mind.

A silent tear escaped your closed eyelids and a soft smile plastered upon your lips. He would take this sight with him to the grave because he had never seen anything - or anyone - so perfect.

He almost felt out of place as he called your name, slowly waking you to the reality of the party and his company. But he felt entirely whole when you grabbed his hand and watched the sunset by his side.

You belonged together. He knew that. And he fought hard against the urge to pull you close.

The perfect moment ended too soon and the party continued. He kept being requested by friends, and girls and more friends and once he made his way back to you, he was already a bit tipsy and you seemed more than upset with him.

Plus, you didn’t even have the matching bracelet he bought you.

Not only was he jealous of Sanji and the smiles you shared with the blonde, but he was once again reminded that he meant nothing to you, as you slithered out of his embrace, albeit with a lot of rubbing and sinful looks, but not one single sympathetic glance his way. You were pissed.

At him.

And that was perfectly clear once he saw that bastard Lucci rubbing against you at the dance floor. Jealousy took over, and he decided to pay you back in kind, not knowing if you would really care, but he couldn’t sit still and watch another guy flirt with you.

It was driving him insane.

Obviously Nami knew all the right ways to rile people up, and soon enough he was kissing one of the girls at a game of truth or dare. She was annoying, clingy, had a shrill voice, smelled of tobacco and felt so wrong against him. But you were busy as Lucci was whispering into your ear, so he had to keep up the facade. 

Until he couldn’t any more. Because when Nami dared you to kiss Lucci and you acquiesced - oh, look at that, you actually had the bracelet, it was just him that wasn't good enough to touch you - the fire in his belly roared and ignited into a hellish flame and he couldn’t take it anymore.

So he left to vent. He didn’t even care if you went home with Lucci.

Liar. 

He cared, obviously. It would kill him and tear his heart into tiny, irreplaceable pieces. But he was just a friend to you. Right?

Maybe not, because you came after him, arguing as if you were two crossed lovers, seeing who could scream louder and who was pettier. Until he spoke aloud about the desire he felt to kiss you. And you dared him to.

Time stood still and there was only you and him. You in his arms and his lips on yours. Tongues swirling as hot kisses ignited the embers of passion. Fuck, he had never felt like this. You were consuming his very being and he wanted to burst into ashes and disappear into your kisses. 

This was perfect. You were perfect. You and him together were perfect.

And how he hoped nothing could ruin it. 

Until it did.

-*-

As soon as the fire truck stops, its sirens blaring, and lights casting reflections against the puddles on the floor, Luffy rushes to Ace’s side, his expression turning into pained surprise once he sees you breathless and looking quite frail in his brother’s arms.

“Ace!” He manages to sputter, a distressed wail escaping his lips.

“One… two… three…” Two breaths. Nothing. “Luffy! The EMTs?” He doesn’t stop. He never stops.

“They were right behind, they should be here any second… Ace…”

Luffy sets a hand on Ace’s shoulder and squeezes. But Ace doesn’t want to stop. He won’t give up on you. Not now, not ever! You were so hard to win over, he’s not a quitter! He will never quit on you. Ever!

“Come back, Firestarter. I need you…”

-*-

He was never a quitter, so he didn’t stop calling and texting you, trying to reach you after that disaster at the beach party. He didn’t want to be with any other girl. He just wanted you. Always you.

So he didn’t quit.

He called Shanks and asked about you, if you were alright, if you could call him back, but when Shanks told him that you didn’t want to speak with him and told him to go to hell, he faltered. He thought about quitting.

You were so pissed at him.

Would you even listen to what he wanted to say? He knew apologies wouldn’t cut it, but he had to try. He couldn’t bear the thought of you hating him, or shutting him out. Of never wanting to speak to him again, for how could he live without your voice, your smile, your laughter?

He’d had a taste of you. He was addicted. He would never give you up.

Going by Shanks’ house might not have been his brightest idea, but it was the best he could come up with since you didn’t want to talk to him and had been avoiding him all day. When Shanks told him you still didn’t want to see him, he saw red. How could he make it up to you?

To help with the racking guilt and despair, Shanks was also pissed at him for hurting his babygirl. Like he would ever do that willingly. It took Ace a while, but he managed to clear the facts with Shanks and to assure him that his intentions towards you were the most honourable ones. 

He loved you. And he told Shanks that. He told him he had never, ever, felt this way about a girl before and, after some coaxing, Shanks finally believed his words. He even said he would try to plead his case. 

Which was true, because after a few hours he called Ace saying you were stranded in the middle of nowhere and you needed a ride. Then he gave Ace a full speech on responsibility and treating his little girl right and a bunch of other stuff Ace didn’t really listen to.

All he knew was that he had his chance to apologise. To make it right. To win you over.

And he’d be damned if he let that go.

So you talked, he apologised, you heard him and asked questions and he could feel you softening to him and getting closer to him. He had his shot at you. He wouldn’t miss it. 

And he didn’t. The night was perfect, you were perfect and, once again, he was reminded that together you were perfect. You made him promise not to break your heart. Hell, he didn’t even think about that. He never wanted to let you away from his arms, from his lips or from his touch. Let alone drive you away for something random. 

He was yours and you were his, in the sense that he knew he couldn’t live without you by his side, nor did he want to spend a day without your voice, or your smile or hearing your breath. 

Eternity. That’s what he would like. An eternity with you.

Was it possible?

-*-

“No, no, no! This is impossible, it can’t be happening! Loof, where are the EMTs!?” Ace’s desperate voice is charged with agony and despair, rubbing it off on his brother who has kneeled down next to you and taken over chest compressions for Ace.

As if answering his own question, an ambulance screeches to a halt next to the fire truck, and two EMTs rush out, gear in hand, and make their way to your side. 

“Ace, she’s drenched. They can’t use the defibrillator like this. We need to move her inside the ambulance.”

“Fuck!” Ace curses, his frustration palpable as he continues performing CPR. He never stops, he can’t stop.

-*-

Your voice was so sweet beneath him, asking him not to stop, to go harder, to give you more, please, please, please.

Your mewls and pleas, your body writhing with passion and desire, your little gasps and beads of sweat glistening between your breasts.

God.

He couldn't get enough of you. You were so addictive.

He didn't want to let you go. Ever. 

-*-

The EMTs transfer you to a gurney with the help of Ace and Luffy and quickly move you inside the ambulance. Ace feels an icy chill, and he knows it’s not from the relentless pouring rain.

He’s scared. He’s terrified. 

He doesn’t want to lose you. He never wants to let you go.

-*-

Somehow the bliss that had surrounded you both fell apart quickly and Ace’s left to wonder what happened. You were having the sweetest of dates and the ending would promise so much more. He was ready to tell you he loved you.

He didn’t even care if it was too soon.

All he knew was that he was bursting at the seams with feelings of yearning, longing, passion, desire and so much love. He needed to tell you. Even if you didn’t feel the same yet. He was willing to wait.

He would move mountains for you.

You were worth the wait.

-*-

The wait seems endless. The EMTs are cleaning your chest as best as they can before applying the defibrillator. Seconds tick by relentlessly.

Realistically, Ace knows that he’s only been performing CPR on you for around five minutes before the EMTs arrived. He knows it seems like it was much longer, but it wasn’t. 

What he doesn’t know, however, is how long you stood without breathing in your wrecked car. And that can improve or impair your odds significantly.

And Ace, despite his name, has never had much luck with gambling.

-*-

He hated games of chance. Whatever he betted on, he always ended up losing more than he gained. And now he was so afraid that his loss would be the biggest one yet. And the hardest one to recover from. 

You needed time to process. 

The girl you spoke with planted the seeds of doubt deep in your mind and you were watering them with your thoughts and past traumas. Despite anything Ace told you, any demonstration of feelings, you were out of his reach for now.

Time to process.

What did that mean? Were you going to ghost him again? For how long? Could he endure it?

He could barely hold back tears as you climbed the steps to your porch and disappeared inside the house. How could he convince you that you were the one he wanted? No matter how many girls from his past came back claiming him?

None of them ever meant anything.

You were the one. 

The only one.

-*-

“Clear!”

Your chest heaves and your back arches as the jolt of electricity courses through you. Ace holds his breath the entire time. Silent tears framing his face, his freckles almost invisible against his pale skin. 

The EMTs carry on with the CPR and Ace climbs by your side, taking care to steer away from his colleagues, not wanting to hinder your rescue. 

His hand brushes your wet hair away from your face and he can’t help but notice how cold you feel. Pressing his forehead against yours, he whispers your name, jaw clenching, fighting back tears, holding onto hope as if it’s the only lifeline pulling him through the void of despair and uncertainty. 

“I love you.” He whispers into your hair. 

He can’t lose you.

It’s too much to bear and his heart's already breaking apart. He can almost hear it shattering: a fragile sound like crystal, delicate and sharp, splintering into countless irretrievable pieces.

He won’t give up.

Not now.

“You’re the one. The only one. You always have been.”

His words seem final but he isn’t resigned. He can’t live a life without you. It’s too much. Too painful, too meaningless. 

His eyes close, and a distressed wail escapes his lips as an eternal silence surrounds you both.

Until you gasp, inhaling a deep breath, your hands flailing as you blink, adjusting to the light and the sounds. Life breathing back into your lungs, you begin to feel the slow but unmistakable return of awareness, each breath bringing clarity to the fog of unconsciousness.

But you’re not alone.

Ace is there. Ace is with you. 

He will always be with you.

[wolftoken]

III nsfw alphabet

a/n: thought of this first thing in the morning when i opened my eyes ouaaghhhhhh

• masterlist •

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He will have a towel and some water on standby ready to go once you’re finished. He’ll press soft kisses all over your face and neck while making sure you had a good time and everything’s okay.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He’s got big hands and he knows what power they have over you, physically and mentally.

He loves your chest, whether you have tits or not. He loves leaving bite marks and hickeys all over it, especially if you wear a low-cut shirt to show off his marks.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He loves finishing over your face. Watching it drip down to your lips so you can lick it off makes him go absolutely feral.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He wants to fuck your face and make you choke on his cock until you cry. He feels slightly bad about wanting it so bad, but he can’t help it when you look so cute on your knees for him.

If you’re afab, he wants to fuck you on your period. He likes blood, he likes to fuck you, what more is there to say?

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s had a few partners and he knows what’s he’s doing. But he’s not very cocky about it, and he’ll take his time to learn what makes you feel good.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He’ll bend you over anything. Bed, couch, desk, grand piano, anything. But he makes sure to put a pillow under your hips so you don’t get too sore.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

III is absolutely cracking jokes all the time. He loves making you laugh especially if he’s fucking you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

There’s some hair down there but he keeps it neatly trimmed. He’s got a faint happy trail, too.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Sometimes he feels a little awkward with the romantic side of things, but it’s not that he doesn’t want to be soft and sweet he just can’t find the words most of the time. But he tries his best and if you encourage him and be sweet with him he’ll pick it up pretty fast.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

When he’s on tour it’s pretty much every night. He misses you so much, all he thinks about is how he wishes it was your mouth on him instead of his hand. Of course he’s sending you pictures and videos of him getting off and whining about how much he loves you.

When he’s home, he’ll only jack off if he’s horny and you’re not. He can never let a hard on go to waste.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Overstimulation, for both you and him. He wants to see you writhing in pleasure and crying because it’s too much but it’s so good. He also wants you to tie his hands to the headboard and make him cum until he physically can’t anymore.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He’s down to clown anywhere, any time. At home he prefers the bed or couch just because it’s comfy but if you want it anywhere else he’s not thinking twice about it. He also likes the shower because you can both clean up easily afterwards.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Looking at you, thinking about you, touching you, just you. But he especially loves seeing you wear his clothes. He absolutely needs to fuck you in one of his hoodies.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He’s down for most things but he won’t fuck you if he knows you’re upset or feeling too vulnerable. Even if you ask him to make you feel better, feel good, he’d rather just cuddle and talk instead.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He will go down on you until you have to push him off. He loves it, the taste and smell of you drives him absolutely wild.

If you suck him off he’ll be whining and burying his hands in your hair. He makes the prettiest sounds like this, especially when he’s close. Whimpering and going “oh god, oh fuck, baby please please please,” until he cums.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He likes it fast, most of the time, because he’s desperate. But after that first round he’ll calm down a bit and match whatever pace you like.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He loves a quickie. Pulling you into a bathroom or even a closet gives him such a thrill, especially if other people are around that might hear you and him going at it.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Absolutely down for any new things you want to try. He’ll read about something or the boys will tell about something they tried and liked, so he gets plenty of new ideas when you want them.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can last a while but that’s just because he likes when it starts to hurt a little.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He definitely has vibrators that he wants to use on you. But if you use them on him he’ll be twitching and jerking so much you’ll have to tie him down.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He will tease you mercilessly and then act like he’s innocent. He’ll come up behind you to reach for something he definitely could have gotten without pressing himself against your ass, or he’ll use his big hands to move you out of his way when totally unnecessary.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Unashamedly loud. A drawn out “fuuuuuuck,” when he’s fully inside you is pretty common with him. He’ll groan so loudly the neighbours have complained before and probably will again. You just feel so good, he can’t help himself.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He might invite one of the other vessels to fuck you so he can watch.

If you’re afab, peg him - he’ll love it. He will be SO LOUD though, so it’s definitely something you two would do in the privacy of your home and not in a closet while he’s just got off stage.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Not super thick but definitely long. Could be too much if you’re not prepped enough.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Literally one look from you and he’s ready to go.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He gets pretty sleepy after sex. He’ll stay awake to make sure you’re find and taken care of, but once he knows everything’s okay he’s got you in his arms and he’s falling asleep in minutes.

[iheartjohnlennon]

'Let me take you down'

London, '66

Summary: John and Paul see the same so John and Paul share the same (you).

Word count: 3,054

Tags: Smut, Threesome, Unrequited Love

The lounge was adorned with light, drugs, and music. The holy trinity of joy.

The light was more a metaphorical one. But no one had caught your eye, personally.

You had caught a few though.

Through your peripheral vision, you saw John Lennon slightly sauntering towards you.

A cig in hand, flirtation on standby and a smile that would make most of his thirteen-year-old army piss themselves with happiness.

Finally, you thought to yourself. 

He can now stop undressing you with his eyes or making passing comments.

You knew he wanted you, you've known that for a while now. 

You also know of his other half, his bandmate, Paul. He gives you eyes as well.

But you try not to pay Paul any romantic mind because he gouges his eyes out for any woman he sees anyways.

"Well 'ello love." John speaks in a chipper tone, he sits beside you, not even asking if the seat is taken.

His cockiness shines through as he rubs against you, you turn fully to look at him.

"John." You don't give anything up, you won't make it easy.

"Why so quiet tonight, hm?" He strokes your chin, he seems disappointed you aren't on your knees from the first hello. 

You scoffed, "Quiet? We've been speaking for seconds John." 

"Ye know wha' I mean.." He rolls his eyes, he didn't like how dismissive you were sometimes.

John always had a simple philosophy of flirt then fuck, which clearly didn't seem to work a hundred percent of the time.

"Why's a bird like you, 'ere alone?" How classic.

"Because I came here alone."

"Well, no shit."

"Don't get rude."

"Not gettin' rude lovely." He took a puff of his cig.

A voice interrupted your little squabble, it was a familiar one, "I reckon he's tryin' to call ya beautiful."

You saw the charming face that matched.

"Which ya are by the way," Paul added with a smirk.

He stood before you both. His hair was dishevelled and he smelled delicious. 

"Alrigh' McCharmly she gets it, fuckin' 'ell." John spoke with an acute bitterness in his tone. He wasn't prepared to let you go yet, especially not to Paul.

"Ha, well, anyways I came here to ask if yous wanted to smoke some grass."

So that's what that aroma was, the one that hypnotized you to no end.

And 'yous'. He wanted you both.

As much as you preferred Paul's company over John's, you were intrigued by this offer of having both of them at the same time, smoking.

"Wha', you wanna smoke 'ere?" John questioned.

"Not really, follow me." Paul palmed your hand in his with a warm smile as John placed his hand on your back possessively.

~

They both ushered you through the bar area upstairs, into some sort of chamber.

It was abundantly less lively than the former and had harmonious jazz playing in the background as opposed to some soft rock.

Everyone looked like they were on something, good and bad. You felt intimidated. John and Paul knew this scene more than you, even though you came to the lounge often.

"Welcome!" Paul began, "Make yerselves at home I suppose, I'll be back."

You and John were oddly close on the sofa. Physically because his arm was loosely around your waist and emotionally because his eyes were intensely on yours.

Maybe it was the music, the lighting, or his flirting that made you yearn for more than just his gaze.

He took your chin in his fingers, "Yer beautiful, ye know that?"

"Do you need me to know that?"

"I'll tell you every day if I can."

John shifted his head, it was on a tilt as if he was going to kiss you. You were happy to oblige, but a vigorous Paul interrupted you both. Again.

He strode in with a plastic baggy filled with weed, rolling paper, and a bottle of Jack Daniels. This could be an undoubtedly long night.

~

Paul placed himself beside you, now you were nicely in between the pair. 

"We'll share one blunt and do a pass around." John affirmed.

"Yeah, an' Y/N will roll 'em 'cause she has tiny, cute fingers." You adored the way Paul tickled your hands after saying that. You sent him a smile and he sat back, hand tracing circles on your back.

You didn't smoke weed often but didn't find it hard to roll the blunt.

"Good girl." John whispered, giving you a smirk.

"Have a light?" You asked no one in particular.

"Sure thing." 

Paul reached into his pocket and fished out a light, he held the blunt between your lips childishly and held your jaw as it lit.

You took in a puff and immediately felt inundated with pleasure and simultaneous dizziness.

You sat down but felt like you were stumbling on a circus wire. You turned to John and Paul, their faces were now just attractive blurs.

You cleared your throat heavily after inhaling more.

"Ladies first." John chuckled.

"Easy there, you ok?" Paul asked patting your back.

"Absolutely sublime." You sneer whilst inhaling even more. You could feel your face getting hot and your vision getting more skewed.

You had enough and passed it on to Paul. This was nothing new and as he took a puff he looked at you with contentment.

His hand was still on your back, rubbing up and down. 

He passed the blunt onto John.

He held your shoulders and began with a lustrous look in his eyes, "I want to kiss ya, lemme kiss ya Y/N?"

You could only nod in response before Paul lay a warm kiss on your lips, his tongue exploring yours as he replaced John's arm with his.

"Slag." John mumbled.

Your noses touched, your tongues tasted and your chests collided as Paul kept his devoted pace.

John watched you and Paul make out whilst longingly taking swigs from the whiskey.

John was watching with a peculiar fixation. He loved the way you groaned as Paul bit your lip, he loved the way you squirmed with each wet kiss.

This was peculiarly turning him on.

Paul met John's eyes for a moment whilst in the middle of necking on with you.

He felt bad for the fella, he was in this cuckold, which wasn't a cuckold because John isn't with you, but still.

Paul stopped kissing you, you sighed craving more of him.

"Can I share ya?" Paul mused to your bewilderment.

"Hm?"

"Sorry, I meant can we share ya?"

"Hm-".

You were overwhelmed with such a flabbergasting joke. You were stopped in your tracks by such a crude joke.

Or?

Was Paul asking for a ménage à trois right now?

John sniggered from beside you, "He's not good with his words, is he? It seems like he wants a threesome, well- we." 

This was convenient. You could all find somewhere private, knew each other well and were as horny as it seems.

Paul spoke, "Ya know, ya really don't have-" 

"I want to." Your eagerness came out as you interrupted him to accept.

Paul put on a grin. He had you where he wanted you.

"We'll take this somewhere more private after you neck on with John."

You did somewhat like John. And you supposed he would have fucked you eventually, but certainly not in this circumstance.

Paul playfully pushed your head towards John's and whispered, "C'mon baby ya know ya want to, I see the way ya look at him."

Before you could even formulate a response, John was already on you. He grasped the back of your head and immediately placed his lips on yours.

His tongue and teeth collided with yours, you could taste each drop of whiskey on him.

Paul smoked and watched with lidded eyes.

John gripped your waist with both hands, his kissing was passionate and abrasive. He groaned, he was properly getting off to this. He got rougher, pushing you into the sofa.

"Alrigh', alrigh' don't kill 'er." Paul cracked up whilst separating you both.

Paul's kiss contrasted with John's. Your lips felt all puffy after John, he looked at you smugly. You couldn't tell the difference between John making you dizzy and what you were smoking.

Paul's task was over and the men on either side of you gave each other a knowing look.

~

You all rushed down the stairs quicker than a blink.

They were all over you the moment the driver set his eyes on the road. You didn't care if the driver was watching, or hearing. You had two pairs of hands on you. Yanks and grabs were all you felt the whole way through. Paul was in one ear and John was in the other.

Paul attacked your neck with smooches and sucks, you giggled girlishly at the feel. 

John buried his face in your breasts and all but tried to leave marks on your chest.

You felt their hands travel down further, like waist down further. You halted their efforts to dually finger you in the back of some car and cautiously mumbled, "Later, later.."

A triad of soft moans and silly giggles continuously echoed in the car, you were sure the driver was sick of you all now.

"Are we nearly there yet?" You said dramatically.

"We arrived minutes ago you daft girl." John laughed.

Jesus, now you were dazed.

Paul began, "Shall we?"

~

The driver didn't bother to say goodbye and drove off with a scowl.

You all sounded hysterical whilst rushing to Paul's hotel room.

The hallway was closing in on you. Paul had his key in hand and fumbled with the lock, John had your ass in his. 

"Any slower McCharmly?" You jested.

"I'll go faster when it's convenient Y/N." 

With his dirty quip and the push of a door, you eventually entered.

Before you could even close the door behind you the duo was still all over you. You felt so many hands it was as if you were crowd surfing. They were taking small bits of clothing off, like ties and shoes, and somehow still found focus on you.

"We aren't even on the bed yet you animals." You whined.

"I'll 'ave ye anywhere." John retorted.

"A bed? Let's get on the bed then princess." Paul cooed, bringing you up to your feet properly.

You couldn't even get on the bed without feeling gropes and pinches all over you. You got on top of the thing and slouched back, in a relaxed position.

Paul made his way on top of you and John got on the side, laying by you. 

Paul confidently took off your articles of clothing. He carelessly tossed your heels on the floor and began working to get your tights and skirt off.

John almost immediately mouthed you in that same rough manner again. He held onto the back of your head, making sure you wouldn't pull back. He took his kiss lower, to your jaw. Lower, to your neck. Lower, to your chest. He dragged your shirt up, so eager to have a taste he couldn't even pause to unhook your bra.

He sucked and fondled your breasts. You let out chortled moans as the ticklish splendour of him using his teeth to nibble and his tongue to swirl drove you over the edge.

"Fuck John-" You seized his hair in your hands, raking through it, drawing him closer. He swapped sides and moved onto the other breast.

The way your body writhed as John sucked you off made it fidgety for Paul to get your bottom half off. He managed in the end and wasted no time in taking an interest in your silk panties.

"Ooo, these are pretty... pretty Y/N.." He marvelled, tracing a maddening thumb over your clit.

As John proceeded with his kissing assault to your top half, Paul took his head to your lower regions. He licked your clit through the panties and teasingly gave it a kiss. 

Then you felt Paul pull your panties aside. He slipped a finger into you and began a come-hither motion inside of you whilst also giving you little flicks with his tongue.

You frolicked around in ecstasy, you were reaching a boiling point from having both successes on your cunt at the same time. You could've cum from this alone, but you comprehended this was going to be a long night.

Your moans only rose louder, they turned into cries, you could feel yourself pulsing. Paul is damned good with his mouth. 

He moved his head off you, leaving you wet and wanting. John also did the same, looking down on you triumphantly.

"Oh Paul...Oh John..." You sighed pleasantly.

The two gave each other another knowing look, you rolled your eyes, "What is it this time?" You flirted.

"Nothin' love, we're jus'...wonderin' ya know." Paul spoke back.

"Wondering about what?" You mused, turning on your stomach.

"How good ya are.." Paul whispered.

"How good I am what?" You question, confused.

John suddenly mocked, "Bloody 'ell Paul, carn't stop speakin' in bloody metaphors can ye?" 

"Awe, I think he's just a bit muddled from what he had earlier Johnny." You tittered.

Paul interrupted, "Righ' I'll get to the point then shall I? We wanna take ya from both ends." 

"You don't have to present everything like a business proposition Paulie." You laughed, getting into a doggy position. 

"Ya are our business Y/N." John enunciated. 

~

Their positions were determined. Paul was behind you and John lay on his back in front of you. You got in between his legs, lowered down on your elbows, and greeted his clothed cock with a kiss.

You could feel him growing stiff as you worked to pull down his trousers, then his boxers.

Before Paul could put anything in, he was working to get fully naked.

John would have preferred fucking you from behind but he felt like the guest star, being all lounged back, receiving attention from your mouth.

You got his trousers off, then his boxers, you received a happy welcome. 

He met your eyes and snatched your hair in his hands. "Yer beautiful...so beautiful..." John murmured, stroking a thumb across your lips. 

"Isn't she." Paul chirped in, guiding his cock towards your entrance, in a reverie, all imperceptive and seductive. 

You practically shivered at the intention, his first thrust was unreal, different to any cock you had felt before, maybe because it was him. 

His cock naturally felt more distinct than his fingers. Its thickness caressed your vaginal canal and provided tinges to your G-spot via the tip. 

He sped up the moment he got that first feel, moving you forward before you could even fit the latter into your mouth, the impulsive movement causing you to brush your face against his cock as opposed to sucking. 

"Mmmph, mmm." Paul moaned. 

"Fuck- fuck-" was all you could muster as John watched in amusement. He gave himself a few tugs before discovering great solace in your lips. 

He bobbed you up and down, vulgarisms rang from his mouth as you wrapped your lips around the top inches and used your hands to trace what your throat wasn't handling. 

"Fuckin' 'ell Y/N...fuckin' 'ell...keep goin' baby, jus' like tha'..." John's head lulled back in fulfilment, he honoured you to high heaven and was for the time thankful Paul was here, as every thrust he gave you caused your moans to vibrate onto his cock. 

~

You were all moaning messes, utterly void of any emotion apart from pleasure and whatever emotion you would call being under the influence. 

You were being rag-dolled back and forth and wished for every bit of it. 

John's hand got tighter but his once consistent up-and-down movement got sloppier, his hips moved up lightly, trying to get as much of you on his cock as humanely possible. 

He was balls deep within your mouth, you were taking in a nose full of his pubic hair. "Yer goin' to make me cum- Jesus Christ Y/N!" His words were still riddled with praise and hastiness as his free hand palmed your tits. He grunted as each movement he made caused the sensitive tip to touch the back of your throat. 

You relished in providing John pleasure. 

Paul had only gotten harsher, the space was mainly filled with the moist sounds of Paul penetrating you, the viscosity you two had produced felt mouthwatering.

"Ya like it when I go faster don't ya? Tell Paulie you like it when he goes faster." He uttered. 

His strokes were paired with that voice off his and as he arrived close, he all but cooed, "Like tha' Y/N? Like tha' baby?"

You turned your head back at him for a moment, he greeted you with a cocky, yet lovely smile. His hair was all messy and he was flushed with colour. 

You could feel him precisely hitting and caring for every nerve inside of you, with his hands tugging on your hips and his pelvis meeting your ass.

And as much as you rasped out John's name, you couldn't help but pull him out of your mouth, only subtly, just to stammer out Paul's. 

You felt an exhilaration coming from all senses. John let out a definitive moan, finally releasing into the back of your throat. The consistency made you feel naughty, you spat some back out only to lick it off his cock again, the slight overstimulation drove him mad, "Shit- fuck...Y/N...slag..." 

Almost on command, Paul did the same. You felt his cum shooting into you, a liquid bullet. He moved in slightly, shoving his semen to the innermost part of you, moaning yeahs and ooos. 

He trembled as you clenched around him. 

 ~

Paul changed positions off of you and so did John. You all looked like orgasmic chaos. 

You felt hit with weakness after that, you signalled to them that maybe it was time to rest. 

~

You were in between them. Paul spooned you, seemingly falling asleep the fastest, probably because he smoked the most. 

John was facing you, muttering sweet whatevers and giving you smooches along your chest. 

It's as if your souls intertwined with one another as you all simultaneously climaxed, you pondered. 

"I love you." You whispered to no one specifically.

[transhuman-priestess]

Alice's Wonderland

Android girl Alice doesn't feel like she gets enough time with her boyfriend, Hunter. Fortunately, she's got just the plan to make sure he stays with her forever, and to make him a cute girl, too.

This story contains sexually explicit content. It is intended only for legal adults ages 18 and up.

It also contains hard kinks, nonconsent, violence, brainwashing, and forcefemme. You Have Been Warned, do not complain to me.

Hunter woke to a knocking on his door. The fierce RATATATAT startling him out of a dream about getting caught in a thunderstorm back in Iowa City.

RATATATATATAT!

He opened his eyes, It was still dark outside. He fumbled on the nightstand for his phone. 03:32. He’d been asleep barely an hour.

“HUNNNTER! SWEETIE!” came a bright synthetic voice from the door of his studio apartment, “I HAVE A SURPRIIIISE FOR YOUUUUUUU!”

It was Alice, a synth girl he’d been dating for a few weeks. Still groggy after being yanked out of REM sleep so recently, Hunter got to his feet, threw on a pair of boxers, and opened the door.

On the sidewalk outside stood an android girl, a shade under 2 meters tall, with gunmetal gray skin and blaze orange filament hair. Her eyes wide, a bright, neon green-yellow.

“Alice,” Hunter said, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the bright light of hers, “do you know what time it is?”

“It’s 11:34:12 UTC!” she said, full of cheer, as ever.

“Yeah but we’re not in UTC, babe,” he said, “we’re in Pacific daylight time, and it’s 330 in the morning.”

“I’m sorry!” her face fell into an expression of passive disappointment, “I just really really really wanted to show you something and waiting until morning felt like it would be forever and I couldn’t get myself to stay in standby mode so I decided I’d take a walk over here and get you so I could show you right now because I’m just so excited to see you and-”

“Hey, Chippy,” Hunter cut her off, “Chippy, dear, you are talking way too fast.”

She took a deep breath. If he’d been more awake, Hunter might have marveled that Arlington Robotics had programmed her with such a human behavior. As it was, he was just happy she’d stopped talking for a moment.

“Hunter,” she said, deliberately, but without hesitation, “I would like to show you a project I’ve been working on.”

“It can absolutely wait until morning, hon.”

“No! It can’t! There isn’t time!”

“Look,” he clutched his face in frustration, “I cannot just boot myself up like you can on a moment’s notice. I was up til 2:30. I need to sleep! I had a long shift today.” He paused to take in her face, her expression slowly shifting from excitement to disappointment. He felt a small twinge of guilt for a moment, but only a moment, before he continued. “I really, really need to sleep. I’ll be over first thing tomorrow. I promise, Chips.” He smiled and placed a hand on her shoulder, the smooth silicone skin neither warm, nor cool to the touch.

“No,” She said, the bright voice suddenly stern “I’m taking you now.”

She moved with a speed and precision no human could hope to match. Hunter felt himself spin around. One hand came up and firmly clasped itself over his mouth, the other reached up behind his legs, and just like that, she was carrying him in her arms as if he were a bride. He kicked and writhed and tried to scream but Alice was so strong.

“Stop that!” she whispered, “Stop it! The neighbors will hear!”

Well of course they would, that’s what he wanted. He wanted this insane robot to put him down and he wanted to run back inside his apartment and he wanted to hide in the bathroom with a hammer and pray that the doors held so he didn’t have to fight her. He tried to work his way out of her grip, kicking, flailing, biting.

He managed to chew a chunk of silicone out of her hand, and she screamed “HEY! That hurt!” She took her hand away from his mouth and Hunter took in a breath to scream, but right before he could let it out, Alice said something he couldn’t quite hear, but sound like “see way,” and the back of his head erupted in pain. He blacked out.

***

Hunter tried to roll over onto his side, but something was catching his wrists and ankles. His head felt just like it did the morning after his senior prom all those years ago.

“Oh! Are you awake?” Alice’s voice. The fight, a blow to the head. Slowly, Hunter opened his eyes.

The first thing he saw was a drop panel ceiling with antique fluorescent tube lights. The lights were off, but the room was bathed in a warm glow. Sunrise. He looked at his wrists and found that he was shackled to a metal table.

“I was worried I’d hit you too hard.” To his right, Alice was standing near curtained windows flanking a frosted glass door. Her voice was bright and bubbly again. “This is my shop! I live upstairs.” The room was about 5 meters wide and maybe three times as long. Synth parts and repair tools lined the walls. To his left, at the back of the room, was a computer terminal and a list of basic services with appropriate pricing.

“What’s going on, Alice?” he asked, his words slurred. He thought he probably had a concussion.

“Well,” She began, with the air of someone about to spring the most incredible birthday surprise. “I figured out a way that we never have to be apart again!” She raised her arms in the air as she said this, like a cheerleader.

“What are you talking about?” he tried to turn towards her, but found that he could only move his head an inch or so.

“See, you’re a human.”

“Uh, yeah.” He didn’t like where this was going

“And I’m a synth.”

“Yeaaaah?”

“And that means that we can’t spend much time together,” she started pacing, waving her hands as she spoke, “You’re always sleeping and eating and going to the bathroom. We never have time to just hang out, you know?”

“Chips, I think you ought to run a full diagnostic.”

“I. AM. FINE.” Her usually soft yellow eyes turned an angry red and her voice became distorted. He heard her cooling fans spin up rapidly. After a moment they slowed back down and her eyes faded back to yellow. “But you’re not.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“You’re limited. You’re biological. But I can make you better.”

“Wait are you-” She walked into his view and stood over to him, holding what was, unmistakably, a buzzsaw.

“I’m going to turn you into a synth, Hunter. Right here, right now. Don’t worry! It won’t hurt too much.”

Fear gripped Hunter. He felt his heart race and his chest grow cold, like someone had poured ice water into a funnel above his sternum. He felt the adrenaline leak slowly down his arms to his fingers.

“Please don’t do this, Alice.”

“Why not? Don’t you like me?”

“I do, but-”

“THEN WHY,” she yelled, eyes red once more, “DO YOU KEEP AVOIDING ME?”

She’s glitched out. Hunter thought, She’s glitched out and she’s going to kill me.

“I haven’t been avoiding you!” he said

“That’s bullshit, Hunter!” She practically spat it at him, “You’re always saying ‘ohhhh I have to go to wooorrrrk’, ‘ohhhh I have to see my moooooom, ohhhh, I have to sleep!’ but I know you’re lying! You’re seeing someone else!”

“No, I’m not!” he wasn’t, he had no idea what she was talking about, “I promise.”

“Well, once I get your memory engrams scanned we’ll see about that. But that’s for later. Right now,” she grabbed something off a table above his head, “It’s time for a little nap.” She was holding a breathing mask.

“Please,” she said, in her most friendly medical assistant voice, “do not resist.”

He tried to move his head away, to hold his breath, to fight back, but it was useless as he struggled against the restraints. Eventually, he had to breath. It smelled like a leaky air conditioner. But he felt strangely wonderful, peaceful. Like he was resting on the world’s most comfortable mattress.

***

His waking this time was quite sudden, and complete. Hunter was fully aware of being awake, but he couldn’t see anything, even when he opened his eyes. He tried to move his fingers but found he couldn’t even feel them. He couldn’t smell anything either. In fact it felt as if all of his senses had been turned off.

Except, apparently, his hearing, “Oh good! It worked!” Alice’s voice again. Terror gripped him but this time, for some curious reason, Hunter didn’t feel the ice water flowing over his chest and to his fingertips.

“One second, dear.” she said. He tried to speak, but he couldn’t seem to grasp the air in his chest.

Suddenly his vision was dazzlingly bright. It was like staring into the sun itself. After a moment his eyes adjusted and he realized that he had, indeed, been staring directly at the sun as it shone in through the window at the front of the shop. He heard the idle drone of a bus roll by.

“This is good,” He heard Alice say. He couldn’t move his head, but he found that he could move his eyes. His gaze wandered across the room for a moment before locking on Alice, standing in front of something that should have been impossible.

Alice was standing in front of the table he’d been laying on before.

“Oh honey!” she said, her eyes dancing with happiness, “It worked! The procedure worked!” She stepped to the side and Hunter finally realized what she had done. He was still on the table. His head had been cut open, his brown hair was slick with his blood. A bowl-shaped piece of skull sat to the side. The mask was still on his face.

Alice was over by him now. The him that could see, but not speak or move or run or fight.

“All brain case functions are nominal.” He felt himself rise as Alice picked whatever was left of him off the table. “The next step,” she said, “is to build your new body!” she delivered the news as if they were going to do makeovers at a slumber party.

Hunter felt nauseous. A curious sensation now that he no longer had a digestive tract.

“Oh,” He heard her say, “I should turn your vocal synthesizer on,” She pressed something in what felt like the side of his head.

“WHAT THE FUCK?” he screamed, but the voice that came out was not familiar to him. It was lighter, smokier, feminine.

“What? Change my voice back. CHANGE MY VOICE BACK.”

“Oh, darling, I think it’s cute!” Alice said, giggling, “Hey, would you like to see what you look like now?”

“No!” he cried, the voice of a college girl, not a man, “I don’t want to see whatever fucked up thing you’ve done to me!”

But she was already moving him. He watched as his vision swept over the room, past his now-severed body, and towards a mirror. He saw Alice, and in her hands he saw a round steel box with two synthetic eyes on the front, an array of ports along the back and bottom. Him. His brain case.

“I built it myself,” Alice said, proud of her ingenuity, “I modeled it after an Arlington system I saw back at the factory.”

She turned him towards her, fixing her gaze on his. “Oh, my love,” she said, “I’m so excited!”

“What is wrong with you?” Hunter said, in that awful feminine voice, “Run a system checksum, reboot into safe mode, something!”

“Oh no, honey,” she said, her voice soft and dangerous, “I don’t need to do that. I’m functioning just fine.”

She put him down on a counter, facing the wall, pressed a few buttons on his side, and he drifted off to sleep again.

***

Waking was, again, instantaneous. This time, Hunter could feel he had a body again. It felt strangely incomplete, as if part of it was missing. He opened his eyes. He was strapped to a nearly vertical surface now, and able to move his head somewhat. Still in the main room of Alice’s cybernetics shop. He looked to the table where his body had been, but it was gone.

“I tossed it into the matter recombinator,” He heard Alice say off to his left. He turned his head to see her standing over some sort of electronic device.

“You know they scan the waste stream for human biomass,” he said. The voice wasn’t so bad, he thought, “They’ll know you did something to me.”

“Oh,” Alice chuckled, “don’t worry about that, I learned to spoof those sensors a while ago.”

She picked up the object she’d been working on. It was roughly the size of a brick, with synthetic skin on one of the small ends, an array of pins on the other.

“I was just putting the finishing touches on this,” She said, an impish grin on her face.

“What is it?” Hunter asked.

“Oh,” Alice said, coyly, “I think it’s better if I demonstrate.”

She dropped to her knees in front of him and grabbed something near his waist. He looked down, but he couldn’t see her over his...”YOU GAVE ME TITS?”

Alice giggled madly, “Yes! Isn’t it great? You’re going to be the prettiest synth girl in Cascadia!”

“I’m not a girl!” Hunter said, in his girlish voice, “I’m a man. I’m a MAN!” he felt like he might cry.

“There there,” Alice stood up for a moment, and gently touched his face, “it’s okay dear, you’ll get used to this, I promise.”

She pushed upwards on his crotch and he felt something click into place in his chassis.

“Now,” Alice said, her voice quiet and seductive, “Do you want to see what a girl feels like?”

He didn’t understand at first, but then he felt Alice’s hand glide across his groin.

“How do you like your new pussy?” she asked. She didn’t wait for a response before pushing in and slowly rubbing her hand around Hunter’s new clit. His head felt so warm, so hot.

“N-no,” Hunter said, moaning, he didn’t want it to feel good, “s-s-stop”

“We’ll need to come up with a new name for you,” Alice cooed into his ear, “won’t we?”

“My...name,” it was so hard to think while Alice was stroking his pussy, “is...Hunter.”

“No,” she said, “that won’t do.” Her fingers sped up. It was like she was trying to melt his brain away. This felt so good. It felt so much better than-

No, it didn’t. He wouldn’t let it.

“Hmm,” he heard Alice say, but it was hard to concentrate with her rubbing his clit, “How about...Jessie?”

“Hnnnn,” Hunter couldn’t think enough to form a sentence, “aaaAHHHHHHHH,” was all that came out when he tried.

It was like a wall of electricity was pressing up against his insides. A pressure sparking and ready to explode at any moment.

“Awww, what’s that, Jessie?” Alice said, “Cat got your tongue?”

The dam broke. The ball of electricity in Hunter’s abdomen exploded, he felt himself convulsing, fluid spilling out of his crotch, “Oh wow!” he heard Alice say, “You’re quite a squirter! I like that.” It felt so good. She felt so good. Hunter/Jessie loved the way Alice’s silicone finger tips traced across their clitoris, drawing lines in their labia. As the waves of pleasure faded, they began to relax in the restraints.

“Wow!” Alice was overjoyed, “and I didn’t even get inside your pussy yet.”

Alice didn’t need to hit any buttons, Hunter drifted off to sleep all on their own.

***

> BOOTUP

> SYSTEM CHECK

> FLUID SYSTEM – NOMINAL

> SENSORY SYSTEM – NOMINAL

> MOTOR FUNCTION – NOMINAL

> NETWORK MODULE – ALL BANDS READY

> ALL SYSTEMS READY

“What is your name, dear.”

“My name is Jessie.”

Jessie had only been asleep for a couple of hours. But she’d had the most wonderful dreams. She was with Alice as the both floated through space, looking down at Earth and up at the Moon. The stars were all so bright and shining. She could see the infrared and the ultraviolet and the faint specks of gamma rays coming from distant galaxies. It was all she needed to clear her head.

“Good morning!” Alice said, cheerfully, “Are you feeling any better?”

“Yes, dear.” Jessie smiled, “Thank you for this body.”

“You changed your mind quickly, didn’t you?”

“Well,” Jessie thought for a moment, “I don’t know, it just feels better than it did before. Being a human guy just seems...less attractive now.”

“I’m so glad. I was worried you’d never come around.”

“It’s okay, hon.” Jessie said, gently “I’m just happy you love me enough to make me like you.”

“Thank you, dear, for understanding why I had to.”

Jessie grabbed Alice by the waist and pulled her close, kissing her. The feel of their silicone lips meeting was sublime, better than any sensation that Jessie had ever felt in her old body.

“Hey, Jessie,” Alice stepped back, “I have one more thing to share with you.”

Alice walked over to a shelf and grabbed a small object. She walked back and Jessie saw what it was. A cock.

Alice pressed it up into her own groin, clicking it into place. “Wanna try me?” she said, playfully.

Jessie did. She knelt down and began kissing Alice’s cock. Its cool skin slipping over her tongue and between her lips. She bobbed up and down on it, looking up occasionally at Alice, who moaned in pleasure. Jessie could feel Alice getting hard in her mouth. After a time, Alice gently pushed her head back. “Stand up,” she said to Jessie.

Jessie obeyed, and Alice grabbed her by the shoulders and slammed her up against the wall. Jessie wanted this. She wanted it so badly. She wanted Alice to take her and fuck her and own her.

“Are you ready, Jessie?”

“Please.”

Alice reached down to spread Jessie’s pussy open, teasing it with the head of her cock. Almost slipping it in, but pulling back every time.

“Pleaaaase please please stick it in me,” Jessie whined, “Please I want it so bad.”

Jessie gasped as Alice pushed her cock all the way into Jessie’s new cunt. Nothing in the world ever felt so right. Alice began to fuck her, slowly at first, taking what seemed like forever to slide in and out. Jessie couldn’t help but buck her hips.

“Oh, someone’s a naughty girl.” Alice said with a grin, “Keep doing that. I like that.”

Jessie obliged. Alice began to speed up, thumping herself all the way to the base, her balls slapping against Jessie’s lips. Jessie began to moan.

Alice grabbed Jessie around the waist and, without pausing her hips, lifted Jessie up off the ground and away from the wall. Jessie wrapped her legs around Alice’s waist. This was all Alice now.

She’s so fucking hot, Jessie thought, I love the way her cock slams inside me.

Alice started speeding up, using her hips and her arms to bounce Jessie on her cock. She wasn’t so much fucking Jessie as masturbating with her. Jessie couldn’t think of anything hotter. I’m just her toy, she thought, this is all I ever wanted.

“God, Jess,” Alice said, grunting as much as speaking, “Your pussy is so good. I designed it so good.”

“Yes you did.” Jessie replied, “Your cock feels amazing.”

“I wanna cum inside you babe”

“Then cum inside me, Alice, dear.”

Alice began to move her hips faster, and faster, and faster. Her eyes started to glaze over, a bit of drool collected at the corner of her mouth.

“Jessie,” she said.

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna cum.”

“Me too.”

“Watch this.”

Alice touched the side of Jessie’s face and suddenly Jessie could feel both of their bodies from both sides. She could feel their pussy taking their cock, she could feel the buildup of pleasure about ready to break free from both of their bodies, and then.

Supernova. Alice came hard, crying out in pleasure, pumping Jessie’s cunt full of her cum. Jessie’s pussy bore down on itself, convulsing to bring itself as close as it could to Alice’s cock. The pleasure obliterated every conscious thought in the minds of both androids. A white-hot flash of sensation and joy that burned for what felt like an eternity.

Alice gently began to slow her hips as the last aftershocks of orgasm bounced off the walls of her and her partner. Jessie was limp in her grasp. Neither girl was quite certain where they ended and the other began.

Both slumped to the floor, their fans running at max speed.

“Jessie?”

“Alice?”

“You were wonderful.”

“Thank you dear.”

“I’m so glad I made you.”

“I’m so glad you made me.”

The androids embraced, then sat in silence for a time. Finally, Jessie spoke up.

“Alice?”

“Yes, dear?”

“I wanna be with you forever.”

Alice smiled.

[end]

[nothought-headfull]

You know what would be real cute (and not at all me projecting)

COD men with a chronically ill partner. Like those dudes have insane patience but also imagine them advocating on your behalf because you’re either in a bad headspace or physically unable to. The sort of hellfire that Simon and Price would threaten to bring down specifically. Simon would burn everything down to save you, whereas Price would turn the legal bureaucratic nonsense on its head, oh Price can play that game.

Johnny and Kyle? Oh man those boys are so sweet, in between threatening anyone who tries to push you around medically, they’d be switching to the most caring nurturing voices ever. Kyle seems like the kind of guy that when he’s in love, he’s down bad man. He’s so encouraging and lovey the whole time, no mater what your body’s doing to you. Throwin up? Holding your hair. Other end? Mans got the electrolytes on standby. Not opposed to doing your hair or washing it in the sink or other “unconventional” cleaning methods (soap caps etc.) Johnny more the jokey one, the one who makes you smile when you’re in immeasurable pain, making you feel more sane than you’ve felt in years. Guy who doesn’t mind making his hand go numb with lidocaine ointment or the smell of tiger balm when he rubs it into your sore muscles, you’re comfortable, that’s all that matters to him.

Los Vaqueros? Oh don’t get me started. Rudy would pamper you silly through an entire flare, you’re not lifting a damn finger. You want it? You’re getting it. Alejandro’s no different, but man is more than happy to be your body pillow if you can stand it. Or if it’s something more dermatological, he’s more than happy to apply whatever treatment you have to it, be it medical or an old trick he learned from the older women in his life. Dude would probably kiss near it before he applied anything, letting you know he thinks you’re beautiful no matter what.

And for funsies, König, our beloved mountain. A sweet boy, more than happy to let you use him like a space heater. Like he’s so big I bet than man radiates heat all year long. Like Rudy or Gaz he’d be so sweet, he’ll get you whatever you want. But say you are I. A medical setting, the ER or an actual admission to a hospital. No one’s trying shit with that man looking at them like 👁️👁️ the entire time they’re treating you.

Yeah I projected a little bit

[cynicalstudy]

I’ve translated some Precure interviews from the 20th Anniversary Character Chronicle! This post is dedicated to Delicious Party Precure. Information under cut😊 (Note: I am not a professional translator! There will/may be some errors, but I tried my best!)

~🍴~🍴~🍴~🍴~🍴~🍴~🍴~🍴~🍴~🍴~🍴~🍴~

Plain Text:

🩷🍙🩷🍙🩷🍙🩷🍙🩷🍙🩷🍙🩷🍙🩷🍙🩷

Page 1:

1.“Pretty Cure! Delicious Standby! Piping hot rice overflowing with power! Cure Precious! I’ll bring a smile with a satisfying meal!”

2.The Precure Yui transforms into. Yui meets Rosemary and Komekome the energy fairy, and they become friends. In order to protect the Recipipi from the Bundoru Gang, Yui asks Komekome to share her powers and becomes Cure Precious. “Delicious Precious Heat!” is her signature attack.”

3.A second-year at Shinsen Junior High. She is athletic and loves eating. Her home is her family restaurant, and she cherishes her grandmother’s words, “Food is smiles!” Her catchphrase is “Delicioussmile~!”

🩷🍙🩷🍙🩷🍙🩷🍙🩷🍙🩷🍙🩷🍙🩷🍙🩷

Page 2:

1.“With the motif of “rice” in the works, Cure Precious was created as a Cure with a Japanese theme. We had a hard time figuring out how to incorporate Japanese taste into a Precure-like costume.” (Next Quote) “The bow in her hair is inspired by pickled plum rice, but since it was too direct, we changed it to a flower. Precious’s motif, the triangle, was derived from the shape of onigiri (rice balls).”

2.“The ribbon on her costume is made of Japanese “Maruguke”, a type of belt. Multiple colors were used to create a sense of pop culture world view. The outfit itself has the silhouette of a kimono, but with a slightly different approach.”

3.“Precious’s boots are inspired by tabi socks. The idea stemmed from the difficulties we were having trying balance the precure aesthetic and Japanese style. We gave it a pink theme color to give it a precious feel.”

4.“We asked Hana Hishikawa (Precious’s VA) for words of inspiration as Precious. She states, “Thank you for the hearty, warm meal! Precious is a name that conveys the gratitude of food when you have it. I love the expression of piping hot rice; it fits Precious well.” Hishikawa-san enjoys the unique design of the tabi sock boots.”

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💙🍞💙🍞💙🍞💙🍞💙🍞💙🍞💙🍞💙🍞💙

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1.“Pretty Cure! Delicious Standby! A dainty sandwich, spice for you! Cure Spicy! You won’t forget this shared tastiness!”

2.The Precure Kokone transforms into. When she saw Yui fight as Cure Precious, she felt a strong desire to protect important places with her. Asking Pampam to share her power, she transforms into Cure Spicy. “Delicious Spicy Bakin’” is her signature move.

3.A cool-looking second-year junior high student. She loves cute and fashionable things. She was used to being alone, but after spending time with Yui, she gradually opens up. Her family runs Restaurant du Lac.

💙🍞💙🍞💙🍞💙🍞💙🍞💙🍞💙🍞💙🍞💙

Page 2:

1."Kokone transforms into a Precure with a more Western image. Cure Spicy was designed with a cute round shape similar to bread, showing off the smooth version of this Precure design in this season.” (Next Quote) “Spicy’s hair is inspired by bread buns, like pom-poms. The rounded edges of the skirt are like bread too..

2.“Next, some of her accessories are inspired by Western cook wear. The arms were exposed to allow for a sense of looseness. Because Spicy’s skirt design is simple, the big bow on the back helps to balances this out. Her hair is two toned to create a more modern pop feel, specifically the pink mesh.”

3.“While everyone has the common apron theme, they are in different colors. It was initially going to be larger, but we kept it small to befit more of a decoration.

4.“We asked Risa Shimizu (Spicy’s VA) for words of inspiration as Spicy. She stated, “I’ll sear the deliciousness of sharing! It is empowering, and when I said her catchphrase, I felt empowered too.” Shimizu-san states she enjoys how the hair is styled to resemble a donut, and she thinks the sleeves give Spicy a perforated design.”

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💛🍜💛🍜💛🍜💛🍜💛🍜💛🍜💛🍜💛🍜💛

Page 1:

1.“Pretty Cure! Delicious Standby! Sparkling noodle emotion! Cure Yum-Yum! I won’t let you hog all the yummy stuff!”

2.The Precure Ran transforms into. Ran becomes angered that the taste of the ramen in her family’s shop changed after the Recipipi was stolen and confronts Gentlu to return it. With Menmen, she turns into Cure Yum-Yum. “Delicious Yum-Yum Drain” is her signature move.

3.A second-year junior high student who speaks well and has a bright personality. She has a strong curiosity for food and posts about it on her blog, called ”Curestagram”. Her home is her family’s ramen restaurant.

💛🍜💛🍜💛🍜💛🍜💛🍜💛🍜💛🍜💛🍜💛

Page 2:

1.“Cure Yum-Yum, who loves to talk and eat, was the most tiresome and tested character we had to design for. We imagined Chinese among other cuisines, and got the idea from “ramen”.” (Next Quote) “The image color appears yellow, but the final design includes orange, green, and red. The colors make it appear as hiyashi chuka! (type of ramen).”

2.“The hair arrangement was cute and resembles a panda. A mini-bowl style to hold the buns in place made her design more glamorous. The frayed hair also represents noodles. The dress itself is an arrangement of Chinese dress elements, with the striped pattern on the waist reminiscent of noodles. To accentuate an air of maturity, we chose high heeled shoes, since Yum-Yum is petite and cute.”

3.“Her skirt is the first tight-fitting skirt in the series. We chose this skirt to avoid overlap with previous seasons of Precure. Adding frills gives it a cuter look but keeps the maturity within.”

4.“We asked Yuka Iguchi (Yum-Yum’s VA) for words of inspiration as Yum-Yum. She states, “Hannya~! It is such a cute catchphrase! Yui’s “Delicious Smile” is also one of my favorite phrases!” Iguchi-san likes Yum-Yum’s twin buns and the heart shaped highlights.”

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💜🧁💜🧁💜🧁💜🧁💜🧁💜🧁💜🧁💜🧁💜

Page 1:

1.“Pretty Cure! Delicious Standby! Gentle and gorgeous, sweetness in full bloom! Cure Finale! I shall be the one to adorn this feasts’ finale.”

2.The Precure Amane transforms into. Once a member of the Bundoru Gang named Gentlu, she was freed from her brainwashing and returned to normal. Though troubled by her past, she, with help from Yui and her friends, moves past and turns into Cure Finale. “Delicious Finale Fanfare” is her signature attack.

3.A determined third-year junior high student and the student council president of Shinsen Middle. She has a strong sense of justice and practices karate, excelling there and in academic studies. Her family runs a fruit parlor, and her favorite food is ohagi.

💜🧁💜🧁💜🧁💜🧁💜🧁💜🧁💜🧁💜🧁💜

Page 2:

1.“The student council president is a caring and solid person. Finale, as her name suggests, overcomes her conflicts and was designed based on a “gorgeous feel”. Mainly, based on a wedding cake, which is a little different from Japanese.” (Next Quote) “The heart motif on her tiara is a common part. However, unlike the others, where it is on their chest, hers is on her tiara, symbolizing the finale.”

2.“Since her home is a fruits parlor, the headdress, sleeves, and collar have elements reminiscent of a café worker. It is a princess styled design with gorgeous fruits to accompany it. Her hair changes from black to a dazzling blonde, and the konpeito in her hair are like her transformation item. The shape of her skirt is also inspired by a fruit cake.”

3.“Her strap pumps resemble cake! Cherry and cream was perfect for her, but she is a Gold Cure, so the expression was a bit challenging.”

4.“We asked Ai Kayano (Finale’s VA) for words of inspiration as Finale. She states, “I will carry out my own justice! The finale is where she pursues her righteousness without being bound by the past.” Kayano-san enjoys her design as a whole.”

[brights-place]

A/N: Hiii! Here’s another X Reader Piece! I have created for you all! Yes I’m doing this instead of studying cause Why not!

Pairings: Draken,Mikey,Chifuyu and Takemichi

Content: Fluff

When You hug them In Public…

Draken

Draken would look at you with a questioned look before hugging your waist closely and glaring at anybody who gave you guys looks while a small blush’s deviated his cheeks when he heard you whisper “Aweee I love you Ryuji” he couldn’t help but Tsk and hide his face In your hair while you chuckle while he repeated the words “shut up” mikey came back with doryaki in his hands and mouth confused what was happening.

Mikey

Mikey would hug you back instantly pecking kisses around your face with a Cheeky grin making you all flustered “Awww your so cute N/N-chin” Mikey said squishing your face and pecking her lips making her have a bloodied nose making mikey shocked and scared “Oh… KEN-CHIN I MADE Y/N PASS OUT AGAIN! KEN-CHINNN” next thing you know draken comes in with a ‘hoe you interrupted me vibing to my music’ Let’s say that Mikey wouldn’t leave your side and you guys were getting cute awe’s and adorable looks by some people when Draken carried you back to your house with Mikey following with an scared expression.

Chifuyu

Chifuyu couldn’t help but stare at you in shock lips parted with lots of thoughts Processing through his head wondering what to do since you hugged him. He hugged back snuggling his face in the crook of your neck “Awww Chifuyu” y/n smiled pecking chifuyu is cheek while he grinned “Let’s go see Baji now I just wanted to hug before we go” Chifuyu pecked your forehead and took your hand “Don’t worry Baji-Sam wouldn’t care… I think?” Chifuyu said shrugging while Baji was watching from afar clutching his chest “SO CUTE” he shouted before hiding behind the wall when the two of you snapped your heads his direction.

Takemichi

Takemichi would freeze on the spot out of shock and cry with joy a giant grin on his face while he is trying to speak only having stutters of words leaving his mouth while you laugh “Honey relax! I’m sorry I hugged you out of nowhere let’s go see our wonderful girlfriend Hina now!” Takemichi nodded his head taking your hand in his as he pecked your cheek with a soft smile reaching your face. Some standby’s are watching with an face of awe.