#but it makes it worse bc she's much more hesitant to drink from a loved one in case she hurts them :' )

[tvrningout]

staring at kaiya and realizing that in this version of her story, she still has a strong will, but she doesn't have the same control over herself as she did in her k.ny verse. in k.ny, it's a thing of finding one's humanity again and winning against m.uzan's influence. if you break free from his hold successfully, you can resist the desire to eat humans, even if it's still a struggle to fight the hunger at times.

but as a vampire in dorverold, kaiya isn't fighting another being's will. she can't exactly have the same " mind over matter " approach bc in order to live, she has to consume blood. if she doesn't, not only does her physical condition deteriorate, the hunger becomes harder to control. the beast becomes harder to control -- the same one that lives within each vampire, the same one that cyrillo tamed long ago. kaiya doesn't understand how he does not fear it. how is he so sure that he won't hurt someone some day?

even when they are well-fed, a vampire can be sent into a frenzy if exposed to too much blood at once, which is especially true for younger vampires. even when they are well-fed, a vampire can lose themselves when drinking from the source, particularly if they do not often drink from a living creature. even when they are well-fed, a vampire can still lose control, and kaiya fears nothing more.

the memory of her resurrection still haunts her. she lost control for mere minutes, and someone lost their life; she fears what could happen now that she is surrounded by so many who she cares for.

[lucy90712]

I heard requests so here I am. Bare with me this might not make sense. So readergf! x Jude Bellingham. Readergf! used to have a situationship with pedri until he told her he didn’t want anything serious. Fast forward to the Clasico she’s in the tunnels wishing Jude luck (obvi with a kiss) & before she goes to her seats, Jude yells to her “I love you” which makes Pedri whisper something to Gavi. Later in the game there’s a scuffle between Pedri & Jude bc Gavi tackled him but in his eyes, he’s just being a good friend. This then gets brought down in the tunnels when Jude is just trying to leave the match, gf tells pedri she’s with a real man which makes Jude fall more in love with her. I hate to make pedri & gavi look like this but I love Jude 😩

WC: 2.5k El Classico is always a big event as the rivalry between Real Madrid and Barcelona runs deep and has been going on for many years. Tonight will be my first time going to a Classico which is nerve wracking in itself but it is made so much worse by the choices I've made over the last year or so. Last year I was in a situationship so to say with Pedri, I really liked him and wanted to enter into a proper committed relationship with him but that's not what he wanted. He wasn't ready for a committed relationship and I wasn't willing to wait because as much as it hurt to let him go I couldn't be sure that Pedri would ever be ready or that when he was he'd want to be with me. The 'break up' was hard on me as I really did have feelings for Pedri and thought he could be the one for me but clearly it wasn't meant to be. 

A few months after calling things off with Pedri my friends made me come away with them on a girls trip to Germany. At the time I was really against it but now I can't imagine what my life would be like if I hadn't gone on that trip. While we were there I met a guy at a club we went to he bought me a few drinks and we talked all night. We exchanged phone numbers before we both went home but I thought I'd never hear from him again. To my surprise he actually text me the next day and wanted to take me out before I went home. To start with I was a bit hesitant as after leaving the club my friends told me that I was talking to Jude Bellingham another footballer and I wasn't sure if I was ready to date another one. After some convincing I went on the date and I'm so glad I did Jude was so sweet and he made me change my thoughts on love completely. 

Nearly a year later and Jude and I have been together for 10 months. I've never been happier than I have been in the last 10 months Jude is the best boyfriend and he treats me so well I couldn't ask for anything more. Over the summer Jude moved teams so now he plays for Real Madrid which has been great for our relationship as it has meant that we can be closer to each other as I moved there after my breakup with Pedri. I hadn't thought too much about the consequences of Jude's move until I was reminded about el Classico. Jude knows about my relationship with Pedri so when he asked if I wanted to go to the game he made it clear that if I didn't want to go he wouldn't mind but I know I have to get over everything someday and I want to support Jude so I decided to go. It will be my first time seeing Pedri since everything ended but Jude has reassured me that everything will be fine. 

Jude left for the game with the team early this morning leaving me to find my own way there as I can't go with the team at least not on the way there. Instead of driving the 5 hours from Madrid to Barcelona I am getting the train as it's quicker and a lot cheaper than flying or paying for fuel. On the train I was going to get on with some work or do a bit of reading to pass the time but instead I found myself spending far too much time thinking about the game. I couldn't stop thinking about what it would be like to see Pedri again after so long and what he might think if he sees me with Jude. I also worried about what might happen on the pitch I know it's usually an intense match and I don't want anything to happen to Jude out there. 

By the time I arrived in Barcelona it wasn't long until the match was due to start so I quickly made my way to the hotel I booked for the night as there are no trains back until the morning. I just about had time to freshen up a bit and change into my Bellingham shirt which Jude gave me especially for this game even though I already own quite a few. There wasn't time for me to do much else so I quickly brushed my hair and left the hotel to make my way to the stadium. It took a bit longer to get there than I'm used to as Barcelona aren't playing at camp nou at the moment but I still made it with a good amount of time until the match. 

As I arrived I text Jude to let him know I arrived safely because he made me promise to do so before he left this morning. Typically just after I made it to my seat he text me back and told me to come and see him before the warm up. I didn't particularly know where I was going but eventually I found my way down the tunnel and to Jude who was waiting for me outside the locker room. As soon as he saw me coming he opened his arms so that he was ready to engulf me in a hug as soon as I was within his reach. Jude hugged me so tightly that my feet came off the floor for a few seconds which I didn't expect but I should've as Jude always gives the best hugs. When he put me down he kept his arms around me while looking down at me with a big smile on his face. 

"Thank you for coming here I know you were nervous but having you here means the world to me" he said 

"You don't don't need to thank me I wanted to be here I'm not going to let the past get in the way of me being here for you" I said 

"I can't believe it's my first proper el Classico" Jude said 

"I know please be careful out there though things can get pretty feisty and I don't want you getting hurt" I warmed him 

"I promise I'll be careful you don't have to worry about me" he said 

"I always worry about you" I said 

"Well don't" he laughed 

Our conversation had to come to an end quite quickly as it was time for warm up but Jude being Jude couldn't leave me without pulling me in for a kiss. He gave me one kiss before I pulled him back in to give him a good luck kiss. Vini came out of the locker room just as we pulled away from each other so Jude told him to wait as he bid me goodbye and slapped my ass as he left which if I could've I would have told him off for. As I turned round to head back to my seat I saw Pedri coming towards me. I felt all of the blood drain from my face as he definitely saw me and Jude together. Even though I said I didn't want the past go get in the way of me coming here that didn't mean I wouldn't be thinking about it and panicking when I saw Pedri. I'm not sure why seeing him made me so anxious but it did it also brought back a lot of memories especially of the heartbreak the man just down the corridor caused me. I was frozen to the spot but as Pedri walked past he smiled at me so I weakly smiled back. 

By the time I made it to my seat I was glad it was just the warm up as I needed a few minutes to gather my thoughts but that's all I had as time seemed to disappear in seconds and before I knew it the match was starting. Barcelona scored early on but apart from that the first half was relatively uneventful there was a few bad tackles here and there but nothing crazy. The second half came around quickly though and about 15 minutes in Jude scored to make it level. Watching him score in el Classico and dedicate his goal to me filled me with an overwhelming sense of pride. I thought nothing could wipe the smile off my face until a few minutes later Gavi tackled Jude and before I knew it he was face to face with Pedri clearly arguing. As much as it could've been about anything instantly I was worried that Pedri had said something or was mad as Jude had dedicated his goal to me. They were pulled apart and the game went on with Jude scoring yet another goal to give Madrid the win in the end. 

While the team were celebrating I stayed in the stands to watch but once they started heading down the tunnel I slowly made my way there so I could meet Jude after he was ready so we could celebrate together. I knew I would be waiting a while so I looked at my phone while I stood there reading all of the tweets about the game and how well Jude played which put a big smile on my face. As I was stood there a lot of people walked back and forth and there was a lot of noise but I drowned it all out until I heard a familiar voice calling my name. Straight away I knew it was Pedri but I was still hoping that when I looked up someone else would be stood there but of course that didn't happen. There he was stood just a few feet in front of me with that smile that reminded me of our early days together when we were both having fun getting to know each other. Somehow being face to face with him wasn't quite as nerve wracking as I thought it would be sure I was a little anxious as to what he was going to say but I didn't feel like the world was going to end. 

"Hey it's been a while how have you been?" He asked 

"I've been good how have you been?" I asked 

"Yeah I've been good what brings you to the match?" He asked getting straight to the point 

"I'm here to support Jude I met him a while back and we've been together for nearly a year now" I said telling him the truth 

"I'm happy for you" he muttered 

"Look I know you have a new boyfriend now but I have to say I'm sorry for how I ended things it wasn't right for me to lead you on for that long and I really regret it you are such an amazing girl and I regret letting you go the way I did" he admitted 

"It's ok it hurt at the time but I'm over it now you did what was best for you and that's ok" I said 

"Does Jude make you happy?" He asked 

"He does he's really sweet and supportive and we're always on the same page overall we have a really healthy relationship" I said 

"I'm glad you're happy but I'm sorry I couldn't be the one to make you feel that way" he said 

"We just weren't meant to be you'll find your person one day Pedri and you can be just as happy as I am and you deserve it too" I said 

He unexpectedly gave me a hug before leaving probably to head home. For a few seconds I was drowning in my own thoughts which had clearly all be pushed to the back of my mind during my conversation with Pedri. Once I had my thoughts under control I felt so much better it was as if talking to him finally gave me a sense of closure. We were able to talk about what happened without emotions clouding our judgement or trying to be petty to get back at each other it was just a normal adult conversation. It was nice to hear him apologise and acknowledge that he didn't go about things in the best way as it sort of validated my feelings at the time. As much as Pedri caused me pain I don't hate him he's still a lovely person so as much as we weren't meant to be that doesn't mean he doesn't deserve a healthy relationship and I hope he knows that after our conversation. 

Just a few minutes later Jude finally came out of the locker room of course with a big smile on his face. I always love seeing him all happy after a win just his smile always brightens my day which I thought I'd need today but I'm actually ok. Jude hugged me and gave me a quick kiss before rambling on about the game like I wasn't sat watching it which he always does but I find it endearing. As he talked he kept remembering more things he wanted to tell me so we spent a good while stood in the corridor outside the locker rooms talking, well he was talking at me. Eventually he stopped talking but not before he told me he was allowed to stay the night here with me instead of going back so we got to head to my hotel together. Once we were in a taxi to the hotel Jude finally allowed me to get a word into the conversation. 

"Did you enjoy the game?" He asked 

"Yeah it was great you played so well I'm so proud of you" I said 

"I'm sorry I made you wait so long we were all celebrating and I just couldn't leave nothing happened while I was gone did it?" He asked 

"I did see Pedri we had a good conversation actually he apologised for treating me the way he did and I told him I'm happy with you now which he seemed to accept it felt good to talk to him I feel like that part of my life is completely over now" I said 

"That's good I'm glad you got closure on that chapter of your life" he said 

"I have to ask though what were you arguing about on the pitch?" I questioned 

"Oh it was nothing he was standing up for Gavi saying there was nothing wrong with his challenge but I disagreed nothing major I had a quick word with him after the game and all is good" he explained 

"Good I'm glad everyone can all get along now" I said 

By the time we made it to the hotel both of us were exhausted so we got straight into bed and went to sleep. I was actually able to get off to sleep really easily as unlike the last few days my mind was at rest there was no more anxiety or worry everything finally feels perfect. 

[vole-mon-amour]

3x09, part 2.

As you should!! Queen!! Whip his ass!!!

Strings that bind us? That one definitely hurt.

Jamie and Sam being besties. <3

That's what you chose to focus on? Really? :D For real though, I still don't understand where the show is going with Roy. One step forward, three steps back. If this is the last season, it's weird.

Rebecca is theeee queen. <3

They're not messing around with that password. Also, theft in the locker room? Interesting.

How to deal with 'friendly' teasing? Like this :D King :D

I LOVE this moment. I love that Trent is casually drinking tea and eating his orange, and Colin went straight up to him with 'Isaac knows" with no prelude. I LOVE that in Amsterdam it was Trent that asked Colin, "How do you do it?" as in asking for knowledge, and in here it's reversed. It's Colin coming to Trent. I love this bonding soooo much. It's so important. An older queer with a younger queer.

I love him, you honor. Imagine having Trent Crimm, Ted Lasso, and Jamie Tartt as your good friends that you can go to ans talk. Goals.

Queen!! Also, I love how Rebecca is often working with tea and/or biscuits on her desk. A foodie that isn't afraid to show it. She's come so far since s1, but then again, it's been said multiple times that real Rebecca is silly and wonderful, so I love seeing real Rebecca <3

She talks like Ted. :) More straightforward, but yeah. With Ted, Roy opened up on his own.

"But I guess I'm not that person." "Not yet."

In here, he feels threatened, vulnerable, so he shoots that "I just wanna be left alone" and hopes she lets it go. I see you, protective layers. I see you. I wonder if it's some kind of trauma/issue from childhood that he's so repressed. Bc I've been there & sometimes I still fight that or feel ashamed to talk about some things so I keep quiet or don't explain properly, but it's sooo much better to talk it through. And I guess Roy won't go to therapy, so Rebecca being like This is his way of therapy. She just doesn't want to deal with that bullshit.

I love her. She's great.

I need Nate to get his big boy trousers on and stop sucking up to Rupert. I hate Rupert so. fucking. much. Is there a thing as an anti fanclub? Because I feel like I'm in it during moments like this. Rupert's ego is already higher than the sky, but Nate is making it even worse. Ew.

When will Nate finally leave Rupert and gets back to Ted? Huh? Or stays with Rupert but actually fights him on that and say that Ted is actually great and should be allowed to go to their matches if he wants to. Like, ughhhh. It's so frustrating.

That's the worst idea EVER. He'll ruin you, Nathan. On the other hand, maybe you'll finally understand how evil he is.

It's been 16 minutes in this episode & so many things happened already? I'm surrprised. It feels like 30 at least.

Mae <3 The joy of having an older lady on the show that knows what she's worth.

I'll just leave it here. The way Rebecca doesn't hesitate to physically comfort Keeley. It was in s1? When she said she's not a hug person. She totally is. The real her. She's like female Roy Kent that is less repressed and will do anything for her people. Seriously, as soon as things shifted for her in the show, she had my heart. I saw her potential before things shifted & I loved that for her. She's amazing.

I feel like Jamie is best friends with the entire team. Look at them. They love him. They were playing before Ted interrupted them. No idea how it's called in English, only in my native language, but that's so sweet.

[caffeiiine]

OH ALSOALSO do you have any christmas/winter hcs ? /nf

thought it would be a good day to send this ask dhdhsjj

ACK MY FAVOROTE FLAGOR OF FLUFF

OKAY SO I GOT THESE

under the cut because this got insanely long dude

+ akutagawa can’t stand the cold whatsoever and will either bundle up in his house or dorm or whatever with a space heater dedicated to each room or just won’t leave the blankets unless he has to and his room is filled with space heaters

+ in the event he does have to go out he is the most bundled dude, like, think rimbaud type bundle. thicklong coat, hat, and scarf

+ he will not wear gloves bc of sensory issues so he just stuffs his hands in his pockets and hopes the cold doesn’t get through

+ ATSULUCY WINTER SHOPPING!!!!!!!!!! lucy drags him out to window shop and walk down the streets and watch the lights and look at decorations and lucy always has the most perfect outfit combos so she’s warm and cute!!

+ they usually end off their window shopping by stopping by a cafe of some sorts [usually the uzumaki cafe, the one under the ada] and getting warm drinks and then heading home

+ LUCY HAS THE BEST CHRISTMAS DECOR!!! like think those pinterest christmas trees THATS HERS

+ fyodor just doesn’t go out during winter if he can help it, he’s anemic and definitely low iron, that man can’t retain heat no matter how many layers he puts on

+ Kunikida bringing in gifts for the whole ada, each one is so thoughtful and nice

+ at least 2 of atsushis gifts are sweaters and the rest are soft things bc he really likes soft things since he didn’t get the opportunity much to have soft things or things at all growing up in the orphanage

+ dazai also gets everybody thoughtful gifts but he doesn’t actually label them, they’re just in places where the recipient normally goes and is typically regarded as ‘their space’

+ ranpo knows of course, who the gifts are from but he’ll let dazai have this and let the gifts remain anonymous

+ dazai really enjoys the smiles everybody has when they find their gift, he’s also always in a small corner someplace or simply passing by around the time they open the gifts..

+ ada holiday party is chaotic as fuck

+ tecchou doesn’t mind the cold much; jouno absolutely can’t stand the way the cold pricks at his skin. it works perfectly because Tecchou is a living. heater.

+ nikolai also has his offhand ways of showing affection during the holidays, for one he does stuff similar to dazai and hides gifts! except it’s a 50/50 chance the recipient will like it, sometimes it’s a ton of birds referencing the 12 days of christmas song, sometimes it’s a really soft and warm weighted blanket, sometimes it’s a space heater, sometimes it’s more birds, 50/50

+ sigma and holidays are not a lovely combo since lights and sounds and general sensory stimuli are 10x as worse leaving him twice as exhausted after a day of running the casino or just living in general [he’s so me]. nikolai, before sigma gets home, dims the lights in the house and sets out stuff that are “coincidentally” helpful for sigma because this is bsd, nobody shows affection outright

[except maybe dazai, he told chuuya “that’s why i love you” once]

+ poe is very festive, almost as much as Lucy. setting out a tree and decor and leaving his manor very pretty

+ ranpo and poe often get into snowball fights, the first few times poe was very hesitant and awkward but eventually got used to it and even initiates them sometimes!!

+ they probably have stupid matching sweaters or accessories as well i won’t even lie

+ poe gives karl accessories as well, for the winter he gets a little coat, and a scarf

+ they definitely try to make gingerbread houses but as soon as they were finished ranpo just went ahead and ate his

+ kunikida and dazai aren’t the biggest on holidays, they’ll put up some decor but not anything massive like a tree

+ dazai has seasonal affective disorder, or seasonal depression and uses a light box since winters are more difficult for him. kunikida usually sits with him by the light box to keep him company.

^not really holiday themes but i need to share by S.A.D. dazai hc somewhere

+ kunikida and dazai spend holidays together, lucy and atsushi spend holidays together, nikolai and sigma, tachihara and gin [akutagawa third wheels since otherwise he’d be alone, the little aroace idiot]

+ fukuzawa rigs the ada secret santa, for yhe piners, and the close friends

+ dazai gets kunikida, kunikida gets dazai, kyouka gets kenji, kenji gets kouka, etc and vice versa

+ this is all i can remember atm but even looking at this it’s a lot wow

[cunninghamchrissie]

hellcheer!! 2, 7, 11, 19, 27, 33, 48

idk how to write short answers apparently

2. What would they do if the other woke in a manic state after a nightmare?

eddie’s a very touchy-feely person, so if chrissy woke up from a nightmare, he’d immediately cradle her head, pull her into his lap/chest, rub her arms, run his fingers through her hair, trying to ground her.

eddie’s nightmares (this is a everyone-survives-vecna universe) would be gruesome, making his demobat bite scars ache, so he wouldn’t want to be touched, not unless he’s calmed down and he’s the one to reach out first, so chrissy would just sit with him (he doesn’t even want to face her while he’s hyperventilating and sweating), telling him she’s there, he’s ok, she’s ok.   

7. Would they build a pillow fort together just because?

definitely. sometimes it’ll be eddie’s pillow fort, really dark but he’ll only bring a flashlight, so he can make funny faces with it, run chrissy through his ideas for a new campaign, or read her some of his spookier books.

when it’s chrissy’s pillow fort, it’s cozy, with lots of light coming from the outside, and she just wants to cuddle and maybe read “the princess bride”.  

11. Do either try to hide their emotions if upset? Can the other still tell?

chrissy does, because it’s all she’s been taught to do, and this sort of behavior doesn’t simply go away just bc you’re in a loving relationship. eddie can tell every single time bc seeing right through to her is his talent, all the way back to the picnic table. and bc he’s decided that it’s his mission in life to make chrissy deliriously happy, he’ll turn on his goofiness to the max to try and coax a smile out of her. When he can tell it’s more serious than just a bad mood she can laugh off, though, he’ll go for the cuddles and loving words, bc chrissy has never gotten enough of those in her life, and he can’t get enough of giving her that.

when eddie’s upset, though, he can’t hide for shit. He’s all heart-on-his-sleeve all the time, and he’ll either mope or chain smoke, and there’s no way Chrissy would miss that kind of a shift in mood. She’s not very good with words, especially not in vulnerable moments (eddie’s the loquacious one of the two), but she’ll wrap herself around him, call him pet names and let him vent all night, listening intently until he’s all talked out.

19. How do they feel about PDA?

eddie’s all for it, hugs, kisses, falling to his knees to kiss chrissy’s hand, but he reins it in at first, not wanting her to catch flak for being with him. chrissy’s hesitant about it because she never liked pda with jason, but she’s ok with handholding in the beginning. once she gets more comfortable, though, she’ll let eddie be dramatic sometimes, and blush furiously.

27. Who is the light weight that needs to be taken care of after a party?

chrissy’s the lightweight, for sure. eddie has to keep an eye on how much she drinks, bc 3 beers in, chrissy’s fun and giggly, but more than that just makes her sad and weepy. she’s not a lot of work the rare times she gets sick from it, though, having a lot of experience with throwing up and walking out of the bathroom like nothing had happened, but she still gets horribly embarrassed to be sick in front of eddie. he obviously doesn’t mind; he sees worse every week at the hideout, and she’s his girl. he went to the fucking upside down for her, what’s a little puke?

33. Who's the better cook?

eddie is. that’s not to say he’s amazing or anything (it’s not like wayne kept anything except canned goods or frozen stuff around in the trailer), but chrissy has always stayed away from food as much as she could. laura cunningham didn’t allow any “bad food” in the house, and the kitchen would only dish out steamed veggies and chicken. eddie’s at least creative, and will come up with new, sometimes gross, concoctions.

48. Who's the better driver?

definitely chrissy. eddie’s a menace behind the wheel, though when chrissy’s in the van he’ll try to be a little less reckless.

[jpeg-dot-jpeg]

questions for a fic writer ask game ask!! 5 for Having a Me Party, 7, 33, 42, and 44 please!! <3

5. What do you wish someone would ask you about Having a Me Party? Answer it now!

Okay, honestly, it's been so long since I posted this?? It was one of those things that was more of a writing exercise than anything else, and it blew me away how much people liked it. To this day, it is one of my most popular fics and I want to ask, what is it about that story that people like so much? Is it the angst? The drugs? The relationship between Jason and Tim? I'd love to know!

7. Any worldbuilding you’re particularly proud of?

Besides all of my corefour stuff (which is soooo much fun to write and I'm pretty proud of it) I'm giddy about a fic I haven't actually posted yet, but will be coming up very soon, which is an urban fantasy BatFam fic ft. vampire Tim. Here's a sneak peak <];)

He took extra care to ensure his undersized fangs went in at the right angle. There was her soft hiss of pain, the rush of venom out through his fangs into her body, then he began to drink. They let out twin moans, Tim from the flood of hot liquid over his tongue, Stephanie from the high of vampire venom hitting her system. “Ahhh, that’s the stuff,” she groaned, melting like butter into the couch cushions. The venom did its work triggering her muscles to relax and her brain to release a wave of oxytocin. The extra erythropoietin proteins would encourage the stem cells from her bone marrow to become red blood cells to replace what she had lost. With that extra kick to her system, it would be safe for her to give blood again in just a couple weeks, as opposed to the 2 months it would take without venom. As much of a parasite as he felt like depending on others to keep him alive, the benefits of his venom were undeniable. They kept vials of it in the batcave specifically for times when grievous injuries on patrol resulted in extreme blood loss. Vampires’ natural immunity to most blood borne diseases also came in handy. Tim wasn’t opposed to weaponizing his biology either. Whenever someone - usually Bruce or Dick - refused to take a much needed break, Tim would be sent in. He’d bat his eyes and say, in the most bashful, sheepish way possible, “I’m really hungry. Could I, umm, feed from you? Just a little bit?” And his dear family members would fall for it every time, offering their arms to him without hesitation. Then, the second the venom hit their systems, they’d be out like a light.

33. If you write chaptered fics, what’s your ideal chapter length to write? Is it different from your ideal chapter length to read?

My ideal chapter length to read is as much as the writer is willing to shove into my gaping fic hungry jaw (though I generally hope for anything upwards of 2k words). My ideal chapter length to write is probably 3-5k? I get really proud of myself whenever I manage more than that, but at least 2k is what I shoot for.

42. Have you ever received a comment that particularly stood out to you for whatever reason?

I love and appreciate every single comment that comes my way, even if it takes me 3-5 business months to respond to them lol. It always makes me excited to get a comment from another fic writer, bc that is some top notch validation right there. I really love any comment that engages with the content of the story and asks for more details, my thought process, or what I'm going to do next.

My most memorable comment, however, was one a long time ago for a fic I can't remember, but the commenter saw a chapter update and was like 'lol its 2 am and i have to get up at 5 to drive somewhere but i saw this update and had to read it immediately' and i was like 'lol thank u i love actively making my readers lives worse <3' and then the next day they were like 'i crashed the car.' I was like hello??? but then didn't receive a follow up comment on that, so that exchange just lives in my head rent free

44. If you take/write prompts: do you prefer dialogue or scenario/narrative prompts?

I think I'd prefer more general prompts. I like encouragment that gives me lots of wiggle room, especially if its enough to work the prompt into a story I already have going. I have sooooo many wips and ideas, so I really appreciate the motivation to focus on a specific one at a time <3

[liquorisce]

Hi ris! I really like how you write angst in your fics so i have a few hypothetical questions. Imagine if em are married, and after a while eren has an affair that lasts months, nearly a year. One day mikasa finds out, catches him in bed with his other lover and shes heartbroken.

My questions are for 3 ways for it to continue:

1) If we were to stick with the em endgame agenda, how would you continue this story? (Happy version!)

2) How would you intensify the angst, make it worse and sadder? (Sad version 😞)

3) How would you continue this if it were a dark fic? 😈

hi friend ♥️ sorry for taking so long to answer.

anyway, no excuses, on to your question! ah I love these angsty, trainwreck kinda stories while characters fuck up and we just see them dealing with the aftermath of that fuck up. (Like my aruani cheating fic that I hope I will post SOMEDAY 🤧🤧)

1. If em were still to be endgame, and this were meant to be a somewhat happy version (omg HOW CAN THIS BE HAPPY 😫) I’d like to think Mikasa breaks up with him. She leaves, he lets her go, and he copes however he knows how to cope: by crashing to rock bottom first, and then to pick himself back up, slowly, painfully. I’d think alcoholism is his vice, and maybe he’d write her letters every single day for a year, drunk on whiskey, drunk on every single choked up emotion he’d thought to tell her.

One day she’d make her way back into his life. And she’s grown: changed into a different person, heartbreakingly beautiful, painfully guarded. Maybe she has a dog now, and he finds her playing with him in a park one day, and even though he promised her he’d give her space, he calls out to her. A year of space had to be worth something after all. After some initial hesitation, she opens up to him, laughs when he tries to crack a joke, invites him for coffee. Maybe it starts raining, and he invites her up to his place, tells her he has a coffee machine. (She knows, she bought it for him.)

She’s upstairs in his living room, sitting on his couch — drinking jasmine tea, which he still kept at home even thought he doesn’t like it himself — and it feels, just for one moment, like she never left. Just in that moment, it feels like all those months ago before he fucked up. Before he lost the best thing in his life to his own stupidity. And he’s almost overcome with the urge to tell her he’s sorry, to get on his knees and beg, but he’d promised he’d let go— so he excuses himself to the bathroom to compose himself.

When he’s back he finds her standing at the bookshelf, rigid, face puce. She’s got a letter in her hands, and an unshed tear in her eyes, and he’s reminded all over again just how much he fucking hates seeing those pretty grey eyes all watery and filled with anguish. It’s like a heavy stone sinking in his stomach, his barely legible scribble visible to him.

“… Mikasa,” he says finally, bc he feels guilty watching her in this moment. Privy to a moment of pain she probably didn’t want to share with him.

She looks at him unabashedly, letter still firmly in her clasp. “Sorry,” she says, her voice still calm, despite the wetness of her eyes. “It was none of my business, I shouldn’t have looked.”

With monumental effort he stays away from her, a 2 metre distance between the two of them. Even though all he wants is to crush her to him and never let him go. “They have your name on it, don’t they?” His voice feels dry, vulnerable, paper thin. “… guess it was definitely your business.”

!! Anyway !! I think Mikasa would really make him work for it. They’d become friends again, take a long, long time dancing around the problems that they used to have, before they actually talk about it. Maybe Mikasa is dating someone, and she just casually slips it into conversation. Maybe the closer she and eren get, the more she talks to him about it. Maybe at some point he catches her falling into the same patterns that plagued their own relationships— self destructive ways in which she minimises herself in a relationship, doesn’t talk about her feelings, tries to control little details to feel like she has control over the relationship.

Maybe Eren would burst out; tell her how he feels. A confrontation perhaps? Something dramatic, where Mikasa would just leave. And he probably thinks he’s fucked it up for good. That she’s never gonna be back in his life. But maybe she shows up one week later. Knock on Eren’s door, when it’s raining hard outside. Hair plastered to her face, shivering bc her coat is too thin. “Those letters.” Her teeth are almost chattering from the cold. “I want to read every single one of them.”

*kind of a whimsical ending methinks, but I like the self-discovery aspect, crash and burn and then recover feeling to this story*

2) ANGSTY VERSION! In this one: Mikasa wouldn’t leave. Instead she’d go into a shell. Eren would probably lash out after his fuck up, in kind of an i-dont-know-how-to-deal-with-this way. Maybe he’d lash out just to get a rise from her. Just so she’d say something awful to him. Punish him for the mistake he made.

But she doesn’t. Instead she internalises it, finds faults with herself, barely talks to him. Cooks him food, and keeps the house clean, and goes to work and does everything perfectly the way Mikasa always does and it drives him crazy: he’d strayed because he already felt like a failure. Lost his job, and his self-respect, and just for that one moment wanted to feel free of all his fuckups. And so he gave in to the blonde at the bar— some nameless girl who didn’t know that he had a perfect wife at home, who’d never lose her job and who’d never get shitfaced in a tiny waterhole by the highway. A wife who’d never do to him what he did to her; betray her trust and ruin the best thing he ever had, and burn it to the ground.

But eren is good at that. He’s good at destruction, and he’s good at fucking up, so when she slips her number into his pocket before leaving the motel room that morning he doesn’t throw it away. And when he’s at rock bottom at home on a Friday afternoon, while Mikasa is at work doing everything right, he gives the blonde a call. She doesn’t complain when he smells of liquor as he undresses her, and she doesn’t care when he isn’t delicate enough to look for lube.

She doesn’t care. But Mikasa does. Mikasa cares when she comes home to find blood red heels on the carpet floor, and lace panties carelessly dropped on the rug outside their bed room.

Mikasa cares when she sees Eren hunched over another woman’s back, fingers digging deep into her ass, hips rough against hers.

And when Eren looks up to see Mikasa’s horrified, heartbroken expression staring at him in the act, he cares too. Every fibre in his body screamed with self-loathing.

I think Eren would sober up very quickly after that. Kick that girl out of his room, out of his house, delete her number, bc he had to watch as Mikasa silently observed from the kitchen as the blonde wore her heels and clacked her way out the door.

“Arent you going to say something?” Say anything, he pleads, bc he doesn’t know how to apologise, he’s never been very good at it. He doesn’t even know where to start.

But Mikasa is numb, tears too choked up to leave her, knuckles white as she grips the chair in front of her. After what seems like an eternity, she finally meets his gaze. Maybe she’ll ask him to leave, he think. Maybe she’ll kick him out and ask him never to show his face to her again. Maybe she’ll slap him and tell him he can expect divorce papers tomorrow. But instead, all she says is, “What do you want for dinner?”

And she doesn’t talk about it. She doesn’t ask him who the woman is, doesn’t ask how long it’s been going on for, doesn’t ask him if he’s still seeing her. And this is what kills him: she never asks him why.

She comes to bed late, or sometimes too early, but never at the same time as him. She sticks to her side of the bed, so close to the edge he feels like she’ll fall off at any moment. Some days he wakes up in the middle of the night and the bed is empty next to him, the imprint of her body barely there. Like she’d left the bed ages ago, and was never next to him at all.

He tries to tell her— he tries to tell her why, but how is he supposed to get it out of his mouth, when all he can say is “Mikasa” and she watches him with a resigned acceptance, waiting for his next words but they just don’t come out. So instead all she asks is: “does it taste ok?” Gesturing at the food she makes.

He managed to clean himself up and get a job, and he brings her flowers sometimes after work. She smiles for him. Puts them in a vase and says thank you but the smile never reaches her eyes.

Some days he catches her when she thinks she’s alone. Staring at the running tap water like she’s flowing down the drain with it. Some times she’s chewing her lips so had, there’s blood dripping from her lips. But if he goes to her, she wipes herself clean and smiles at him, a fake smile that doesn’t belong there, and tells him she’s fine.

If he were a better person, he’d leave. He’d apologise and tell her she deserves the world, and watch as some other man gave it to her. But he isn’t a better person.

He’s flawed, and full of shit, and terrified that if he leaves her, he won’t know where to go. He won’t know where he’d end up, and most importantly he wont know if he’d ever see her again. And sometimes that thought scares him so much he can’t sleep.

One day she breaks. Makes him coffee when he comes back from work, and slowly, voice trembling, hands fidgeting, she asks him, “Do you think if we had a child…” Her grey eyes were sunken, he hated the pain he saw in them. Hated his own reflection in the center of it. “… do you think that would fix us?”

Eren stares at her for several moments. A child couldn’t fix them. Maybe Mikasa could but she’d given up. Maybe only Eren could, but he doesn’t know how. So all he asks is: “is that what you want?”

Her teeth dig into her lower lip. “I don’t know.”

Despite himself, he runs a finger across her mouth, loosening her lip from her assault. He isn’t sure if he imagines her flinch from his touch. “If it’s what you want, we can do it.”

Whatever you want, we can do it.

… anyway stepping off my soap box, I think this is a very angsty shot at em trying to have a baby, eren would have to finally learn how to talk about his feelings, his self esteem issues, his fear of losing her, apologise with every action he takes — and finally. i don’t think they’ll have a baby. i think maybe the doctor says it’s difficult for Mikasa to have a baby. 🥺

… phew ok I’m exhausted I’ll let you know about the dark version a bit later anon! Love u! Let me know if you’re planning to write this fic ♥️

[yannadere]

daryl dixon, shane walsh and glenn rhee (separate) reacting to their s/o getting bit

cw: loss, depression, unhealthy coping, suicide, angst, hurt/comfort

Daryl Dixon:

you're scared to tell him

he's lost so much even before the apocalypse, you don't want to hurt him

trying to distance yourself from daryl doesn't work at all

he just gets worried, which comes across as him being angry, and he clings to you

poor bby has abandonment issues

it's a few days after you get bit when you finally tell him, you already feel your health deteriorating but you hold up for him

you tell him when he's getting ready to settle for the night

bc evenings with you are when he's the most calm

"hey, daryl?" you mumble, and he hums softly, eyes still closed. "hey, look at me. i have to tell you something." you sigh, nudging his arm with your uninjured hand. "what?" he groans, finally looking at you. "i.. my hand isn't just cut, daryl..." you sigh, unraveling the bandages. "what'dya mean?" daryl's brows furrow, eyes falling onto the bandages as they fall.

his blood goes cold, and he sits up suddenly and grabs your wrist to observe the nasty bite on the side of your hand, between your thumb and forefinger. "damn it, why didn't you tell me?!" he snaps, stopping to take a breath as you flinch back slightly. "c'mere..." he sighs, pulling you into a tight hug. "i'm so sorry..." you whisper clutching his shirt tightly. "sh, it's okay... i... when you go, i'll be here."

"daryl... you shouldn't have to do that..." you close your eyes, tears slowly falling. "nah. it's fine. i... i wanna do it. i don't trust anyone else to. not even you." he holds you tighter, kissing your neck gently.

"i'm so sorry, daryl... i was being stupid, i-" he silences you, moving away and pressing his forehead against yours. "don't blame yourself. i knew something like this would happen eventually... i put merle down, had a feeling either of us would go next." he gently cups your face with his hands, wiping your cheeks and nuzzling his nose against yours affectionately.

"i don't want to put you through this, daryl." you cry, going to leave when he pulls you back. "don't leave... please don't leave..." daryl begs, pulling you back to him and letting your body fall limp against his. you let out a small sob, wrapping your arms around his middle as your head rests on his shoulder, tears dampening his shirt.

"it'll be okay. i'll take care of it. for now, get some rest. i'll be here when you wake up." he kisses your cheek, waiting for you to calm down. you sniffle, holding him tightly. "i'm so sorry..!" you repeat the words over and over, and he closes his eyes, trying not to cry himself.

"shh... please... don't be sorry." his voice wavers and he hates it. "just sleep, darlin'... i'm right here." you whimper before falling quiet, resting your hand on his jaw and nuzzling into his neck. "i love you, okay..? i didn't want it to be this way." you breathe out, letting him lean onto you slightly. "i know. i know. just sleep for me, darling." he sniffles, cradling you close as you fall asleep slowly, knowing it would be the last time.

you fall asleep in his arms, but he can't bring himself to harm you

so, he tells rick, who's also upset upon the news

however his best friend's distress makes it even worse

so, rick does it for him as the others try to comfort daryl

after your death, he becomes reckless and depressed, not eating or drinking at all and becoming skinny and malnourished

he shoots openly at walkers, and when his ammo's out he takes out his anger on other walkers in other ways

whether it's stabbing them, bludgeoning them, or just hitting their bodies after they fall.

rick decides to put him under close watch to ensure he doesn't harm himself

but daryl's rather experienced in sneaking out/away, and he visits your grave often

unfortunately one morning, rick finds him at your grave with a bullet in his head

he's buried next to you, as rick knows it's what daryl craved

to be with you again.

Shane Walsh:

you got bit on the way back from gathering medical supplies for carl

and with shane you knew there was no way he would take well at any time of the day

so you decide to rip the bandaid off and talk to him an hour after your own little grieving session.

you approach him when he's talking to the small group, asking him for a private talk, saying it's important

so, of course, he's worried, as are the group

you take him behind the barn and hug him

he's genuinely confused as to why you're acting like this

deadass asks you if you're expecting or smth

you hate to break his heart

"so why did you bring me back here?" shane asks, crossing his arms and cocking a hip. "shane... i'm sorry." you sigh, pulling the collar of your shirt to reveal the bloody bite on your shoulder.

he's speechless, blinking a few times before almost collapsing. you yelp, catching your boyfriend quickly, but fall under his weight. on the floor behind the barn, shane closes his eyes, crying as he holds you tight. "shane... don't cry. it's okay..." you try your best to smile, cupping his face and wiping his tears.

"this isn't okay..! baby, you're not okay!" he sobs, cupping the back of your head and pulling you closer. "shane- baby, stop crying... it's okay." you sniffle, smiling through your own tears as you kiss his jaw lovingly

shane tries to gather himself, but his whole world feels like it's collapsing. "shh, shh... c'mon, let's get you some water." you grab his hands, trying to pull him up. slowly easing him onto his feet, you help shane back to the house. rick spots you two immediately, stumbling to help you both. "shane-?"

"rick..!" shane is clearly distraught, and his best friend latches onto him quickly to try and calm him down. "shshsh- hey, look at me." rick soothes, and you stand back slightly, trying to calm your nerves. "what happened?" rick demands, eyes steeling as he stares at you. "rick- it's not-" you try to explain what happened, when shane answers for you. "they got bit! my baby got bit..!" shane sobs, knees feeling weak as he almost collapses again.

rick processes the information, looking at you in shock. lori overhears, muttering a fast "oh my god..!" as she approaches the three of you. "how did this happen?!" rick asks, trying to support shane fully. "i was in a rush, i got grabbed and..." you trail off, moving over to comfort shane who can't calm down at all.

"he needs to sit down..." you say softly, glancing at hershel who was observing from his porch. "come, sit him down inside. i'll get him some water." hershel guides you and you help shane in with the aid of rick. flopping down onto a couch, shane can't seem to catch his breath, so you crouch in front of him to cup his face, whispering comforting words to him. "baby... i'm so sorry, it should of been me..!" shane cries, and you hush him quickly. "don't you dare say that, shane walsh." you scold, pulling him into a tight hug.

"never blame yourself for my death. i wouldn't rest easy if you did." you sigh, smoothing his hair and kissing his temple. rick stands anxiously nearby, and you sense his worry. "sit, rick. relax... i've got this." you nod at him, and he nods stiffly, taking a seat of his own when lori pipes up. "when do you think you'll turn?" she asks, and you freeze. "lori-!" "i'm just thinking ahead, rick!"

shane becomes more distraught by her words, clinging onto you tightly. "shh, it's okay... i'm here, bubs." you sigh, cradling him impossibly closer. "the hell's goin' on?" maggie asks, confused as ever. "not now, please..." rick sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. "right..." she mumbles, leaving as hershel comes back with some water. "here, drink some of this, son." he nods, giving the glass to you so shane could take it.

after taking a few sips, shane goes back to codding you, slowly winding down. "there you go, just breathe." you smile, kissing him gently. "i'm sorry i couldn't protect you..!" shane hiccups, nuzzling your neck. "shh. don't say that..!" you sigh, holding him tighter. your boyfriend whines softly, and rick closes his eyes with a pained sigh.

you last a few more days before turning, spending your time slowly becoming more sick with shane next to you all the while.

when you turn, shane is devastated, holding your head as you stare up at him with discoloured eyes

he ignores how you try to bite him after a few minutes of your brain losing all memory of him, and his tears drip down onto your face

rick walks in, and sighs. he knew it would happen eventually... everyone did.

shane holds you for a few minutes. you were slowly gaining strength but he was always stronger.

the room is silent except for you little noises, and shane finally accepts this fate when rick puts a hand on his shoulder.

"let me do it..." his best friend gruffly says, and shane shakes his head. "leave 'em be, rick... just for a little while longer..." shane begs, and rick sighs, looking away briefly.

"you know i can't do that. if you or anyone get bit-" "rick, i am asking you nicely. leave."

he spends a few days with you in walker form, and it scares everyone. lori tries to convince him that you're not there anymore, a hollow vessel of what you once were but he wont buy it.

he loves you too much to believe anything like that, or hurt you. to him, you're still his darling, his everything who held him when times got tough.

you scratch at his arms, not even breaking skin due to your blunt nails, and he doesn't mind.

finally, with a few kisses around your pale, sunken face, and a final kiss to your lips that he forced closed- shane raises his gun.

he hesitates, letting you get the jump on him, but he grabs your jaw before you can do anything

the sudden commotion makes rick fly in, only to see you lifeless once more in shane's arms.

Glenn Rhee:

unlike the other two, he watches you get bit.

he's completely distraught as the rest of the group fight off the walkers whilst he makes his way to you

he rams the zombie with all his strength, knocking it down before shooting it

you've collapsed, sat back against the car door as blood seeps from your cheek, whimpering in pain and holding the gash with your blood-soaked hands.

he's crying before he knows it, dropping down next to you and carefully covering your cheek with his shaky hands.

he tries to reassure you, and himself, that you'll be fine and won't get infected,

but the sad look in your eyes confirm that you're not making it to the date he wanted to take you on tomorrow

as you slowly bleed out, he tries to tell you stories, to keep himself calm as you slowly die.

"hey, remember when..?" you're not paying attention, just admiring him as you move your hands to cup his face.

"i love you.." you croak with a small smile, and he smiles sadly, sobbing all the while.

the others have to watch, all waiting for the inevitable

"please don't leave me... please, i need you." glenn pleads, and you smile sadly.

he's pressing kisses to your forehead as you hold him close, your blood staining his hands, arms and shirt

"baby...?" glenn mumbles softly, sitting with you leant against him. "i'm still here, darling..." you whisper, gripping his shirt tightly. "i'm gonna miss you..." glenn sniffles, kissing the top of your head gently. "me too. i'll always be with you, okay. when i go, i don't want you to be sad. i want you to keep going, to find happiness again, even if it means finding love in another. i want the best for you." you smile, despite the ache in your cheek.

glenn breathes out as his eyes close, his tears still falling. "i could never replace you like that..." he whimpers, fingers curling into your hair as he holds you closer. "baby, don't cry... don't cry, because i'll cry." you try to laugh, and glenn laughs too, gently rubbing your uninjured cheek.

"glenn, we've got to, y'know..." rosita sighs, but glenn shakes his head. "no! we don't kill the living..!" glenn protests, his hold turning protective. "right, right... okay." she fakes surrender, walking away.

when you pass, glenn just knows. he doesn't even look at you. he can't bring himself to.

however, when you turn, he doesn't even bother to restrain you, just holding you close as you bite into his neck.

abraham shouts in alarm, shooting you instantly, and glenn cries as you fall, cupping your face and leaning down to press his forehead against you.

the group is distraught, but glenn just lets everything happen, telling them to leave him be, move on.

abraham gives him a spare pistol, and glenn takes it with a nod.

the group leaves, and glenn knows what he has to do. so, he opens the car door, slipping you into the car easily

he gets in himself, closing the door so walkers wouldn't chew on you or him.

alas, glenn admires the gun before pressing it to his chin.

[harrys-titties]

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

29K+

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

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

-masterlist-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

So yes, Y/N is understandably confused. 

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But of course, Harry should have known better. 

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeh, there was nothing for him to worry about. 

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

 "Who's Elle?"  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She hugs him. 

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

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

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

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

But Harry especially missed Elle. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What did you say, Harry?"

"I'm sorry." He whispers. 

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

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

"Who, Harry?" 

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

"Elle." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Night H." 

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Having trouble H?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you have fun?” She whispers. 

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

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

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

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

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

—— 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But she couldn’t have been more wrong. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—— 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—— 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh for fucks sake H.” 

“You’re so crude.” 

“We do not do that.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—— 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No funny business dove, I promise.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You are the worst.” 

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

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

“That would be nice, thank you.” 

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

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

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

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

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

She was fucking beautiful. 

“Stop looking at me like that you…” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tha’s it baby, get what you need.” 

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

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

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

“What do you need, hm? Tell me.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And with that, Y/N stops laughing. 

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

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

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

“Holy fuck Harry! Feels so good.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Holy fuck. You feel so fucking good.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A lecher,” they finish together. 

[the-bau-quinjet]

Nervous

Hello! This is honestly just a bunch of fluff (a tiny bit of angst bc Spencer worries about everything) and the reader being very nervous! I am currently writing a sequel to take place directly after this one! Read part two here!

Summary: Reader is arrested by the BAU! Little do they know, she is dating the one agent who is currently on medical leave...

warnings: none!

Word Count: 4954

“Are you sure you can pick her up today?” You are currently running around your apartment, phone held to your ear with your shoulder. You have to be at work in fifteen minutes, but first you have to drop your daughter off at school, and you’re running very late.

 “Babe, yes. I’m almost completely healed and I don’t go back to work until tomorrow. I’ll pick her up after school and then meet you at your apartment when you’re done working. Okay?” Thank God for Spencer Reid. He has been on medical leave for 5 days, slowly going insane. But, it meant more time for you and Lily to spend with him, so you’re not complaining.

“That’s perfect, thank you so much! I gotta go, I love you!” You are in such a daze, you don’t stop to think about the three words that just came out of your mouth. You hang up before Spencer can respond as you wrestle with your six year old to put shoes on. Grabbing both of your coats, you run out the door.

 You met Spencer Reid 9 months ago when he came into the hospital you work in with a concussion and some pretty bad bruises. It was really a chance meeting. Normally, you don’t even deal with patients because you work in research. But, your best friend asked you to run some lab results to a patient’s room and you couldn’t say no. Dr. Spencer Reid happened to be that patient.

 He wasn’t supposed to be in the room, but apparently something happened with the CT schedule, and he was done earlier than expected. So, instead of simply dropping off forms in an empty room, you hit a man with a door. Why he was standing behind the door is still a mystery to you, but you felt awful. This man is in the hospital and to make matters worse, you come along and hit him! With a door! You offered to get him some coffee as an apology, and in his concussed state he said “Only if we can go together.” You’ve since realized that was smoother than he normally acts, but you don’t care. He is the most lovable man you’ve ever met. 

 You met up for coffee three days later, and have been dating ever since. He met your daughter, Lily, on the second date. They clicked instantly. You knew then and there that you would love this man forever. You have not, however, actually said I love you before this morning. But, you’re still in too much of a rush to stop and think about it… or even realize it happened.  

 You pull into the parking garage at the hospital 7 minutes late. Honestly, better than you expected. The morning flies by as you work on research grants and hospital studies. All in all, a pretty average day. That is, until you walk back into the building from your lunch break.

 You don’t get a lot of visitors in the research wing, so it’s strange to see two pretty official looking individuals at the front desk. It’s even stranger to hear your name come out of one of their mouths.

 “Hi there. We are Agents Morgan and Rossi from the FBI. We’re looking Ms. Y/N L/N. Is she here?” That must have been Morgan talking.

 Spencer has told you a lot about his team. You feel like you know them all already with how many stories he’s told you. You’ve been hesitant to meet them though because of Lily. You don’t want her to get too attached to him and his friends if things were to go sideways. You haven’t really dated anyone since her father, so you’re a bit nervous. Spencer, of course, completely understands. He just wants you to be happy. It’s hard not to love him even more at the thought.

 You are immediately thrown into a panic at the sight of the two agents. Your thoughts are running wild with possibilities. They must be here because something happened to Spencer. Wait. That doesn’t make sense. He’s not even working today.

 Your panicked train of thought pulls to a stop when the two agents walk up to you. “Ms. L/N? Can we speak with you for a moment?” You nod, leading them toward your office.

 “Of course. My office is just down the hall.” You can’t help but feel nervous at the prospect of meeting Spencer’s coworkers without him. Especially if it has to do with a case they’re working. These are the people he loves most in the world. They are his family. What if they don’t like you? What if they think you’re an idiot? What if they think Spencer can do better? It also doesn’t help that you know they can tell you’re nervous because you know they are profilers. You sit down behind your desk, offering them the seats on the opposite side.

 “Ms. L/N, you’re in charge of the research department, correct?” Rossi says it like a question, but he clearly knows the answer.

 “That’s right.” You are trying everything you can to get your nerves to settle, but it just isn’t working. You’re basically lying to two human lie detectors, even if it is just by omission.

 “So if items were to go missing from this laboratory, you would be responsible for reporting it.” It was Morgan who spoke this time. It’s hard for you to follow their line of questioning. What would go missing? It’s not like you wouldn’t notice if a fume hood suddenly disappeared.

 “I suppose so, although it depends on what items. We don’t have a specific inventory of commonly used products like syringes and gauze, we just order more when we get low.” You can’t decide which agent to focus on. Your eyes are flicking nervously between both of them.

 “What about human tissue?” When the words come out of Morgan’s mouth, you freeze for just a second. You don’t have any human tissue in the lab, so how would it go missing? Of course, the profilers take the delay in your response to mean something other than confusion.

 “We- we don’t use human tissue in this specific laboratory. We focus on small animal models. The other research lab is responsible for human tissue protocols.” You stutter through your words under the harsh glares of the two agents. It is really not helping your nerves.

 “Then how do you explain this?” Rossi slides a paper across your desk. It’s housed in a large plastic bag with “EVIDENCE” across the top in big, block letters. It’s a form you have never seen before. The kind someone would fill out to transfer human tissue between labs. Your hands shake as you hold the paper, slowly trying to figure out what it is. You almost puke when you reach the bottom. It has your signature as an approval of the request. You drop the paper as if it has burned you.

 “I’ve never- I didn’t- how did-” You’re cut off before you can try to finish your sentence, but you don’t hear what they are saying. You feel the cold click of metal around your wrists, tight enough to just pinch your skin. They lead you back out of the building, to a waiting SUV. You can’t help but be grateful that nobody was there to witness your arrest.

 The ride to Quantico is silent. You keep trying to figure out how someone could have signed your name on that form, but you can’t focus. Your mind keeps drifting to memories with Spencer.

 You remember your first date in the coffee shop a block away from the hospital. He ordered a black coffee only to pour in an exorbitant amount of sugar. He blushed slightly, as if he was embarrassed by his drink preferences, only for his features to transform into a soft smile as you did exactly the same thing. The two of you talked for hours, only ending the date when you had to go pick up Lily.

 You remember running into him in the park with Lily, what you would come to refer to as your second date. He looked ethereal sitting at a table playing chess. Lily ran up to him, or rather the chess board he was sitting in front of, before you could stop her. She wanted to know what the horsey was for. You watched as he patiently explained to the five year old that it was a knight responsible for defending the king. 

He told her how it moves on the board. He told her how it was special because it is the only piece that can jump over other pieces. He must have spent 15 minutes talking to her about this one piece. And she was enthralled. When he was done, he looked around to find the child’s parents only to meet your eye. You’ll never forget the way his smile grew when he realized Lily was yours. The three of you spent the rest of the day in the park, playing chess, walking around the pond, and getting to know each other.

 You remember the look in his eyes right after he kissed you the first time. You remember how worried you were the first time he was injured on a case. You remember Lily asking you if he could be her daddy, and crying yourself to sleep that night because you wanted that too, more than anything, and you were so scared it wasn’t going to happen.

 Then you finally remember he’s picking Lily up from school today. Suddenly, the car ride isn’t so quiet anymore.

 “I need to call someone.” The words come out frantic and rushed. You are absolutely sure the expression on your face screams crazy, but this is about your kid, so you really don’t care. You need to call Spencer. Then he’ll come fix this. Explain how you couldn’t possibly be involved. The agent’s response is shorter than you expected.

 “Why?” Rossi sounds skeptical when he asks it. You would later suppose that he had a reason to be skeptical of you. Right now though? You didn’t do anything wrong so the whole innocent until proven guilty thing feels a little fake to you at the moment.

 “My boyfriend is picking up my daughter from school. I need to call him.” You don’t really know how to tell them said boyfriend is one Dr. Spencer Reid. You weren’t supposed to meet his friends yet and definitely not without him. You aren’t really in the right headspace to be deciding if right now is the best moment to out your relationship.

 “If he’s already planning on picking her up, you shouldn’t need to call him.” It feels to you at this moment that they don’t even believe you have a child. Of course, they must know because they have the one and only Penelope Garcia to find out every little thing about you. Before you can say anything else, they are dragging you out of the SUV and into the building. You are pushed through security into an elevator that takes you to the fifth floor. The BAU. You thought the first time you visited Spencer’s work would be a happier occasion. And that he would be here. The whole situation would actually be kind of funny if you weren’t so worried and nervous.

 The first thing you say when you are lead through the very intimidating glass doors is “JJ.” You would come to understand why that might earns some stares. The whole room is looking at you as if you have grown another head.

 “How do you know my name?” That’s a loaded question. Spencer has showed you pictures of his godson, Henry. JJ happened to be in some of those pictures as he is in fact, her son. Of course, you can’t really articulate that because you are too stressed and nervous to form full sentences. It takes a lot out of a person to be arrested, dragged from their place of work, shoved in a car, driven two hours through DC traffic, and then pulled into the FBI building as a suspect.

 Instead of properly calming yourself down until you can form a complete sentence, your eyes go wide and you say “Henry” as if that is enough of an explanation. If looks could kill, you would be dead.

 “How do you know my son’s name?” JJ’s words are so harsh, you physically flinch.

 “I.. it’s just that… You… Well… I-” You are a loss for words, yet again. You didn’t expect for Spencer’s best friend to ever look at you with such disgust. It’s honestly a little overwhelming to think the people he calls family all currently hate you. Even if they don’t really know who you are.

 “Maybe a few hours in here will jog your memory.” And with that you’re left alone to sit in a cold metal chair and stare at your reflection.

 --

 Throughout your relationship, Spencer has tried not to worry. You frequently come home from work a bit later than you originally planned, especially if you feel like you got a late start. So, when you don’t enter your apartment right at 5:30, he doesn’t think anything of it. When 6:00 rolls around, he texts you. At 6:30 he calls. By the time it reaches 7:00 and he still hasn’t heard from you, he’s actively pacing your small living room. When his most recent call goes to voicemail, he breaks. He packs up Lily’s stuff and the two of them are on the way to Quantico, finding you being the only thing on his mind.

 He replays his favorite moments with you in his mind as he drives from your DC apartment to Quantico. Normally, he’d take the metro, but if you really are missing it’s safer for Lily in the car.

He remembers the look on your face when you realized you hit him with a door. He couldn’t imagine a more beautiful person. You looked so guilty, he felt the need to hug you to tell you it was okay. It was a foreign feeling for him. He’s never been one to physically comfort people. Maybe it was the concussion. It was definitely the concussion that gave him the courage to ask you to coffee.

 He remembers the fluttering of butterflies in his stomach when he watched you pour almost as much sugar as him into your coffee. The soft smile on your face as the two of you spent hours talking about anything he could think of to keep the conversation from ending.

 He remembers the utter joy he felt upon realizing the five year old who inquired about the horsey on the chess board is your daughter. He remembers how he felt when he looked up, expecting to find an annoyed parent given that he just lectured a five year old on one chess piece for 15 minutes, but was instead met with your kind smile and loving eyes. He loves Lily just as much, if not more than he loves you.

 He remembers how you hung up the phone this morning before he could say “I love you too.” And now the thoughts he’s tried so hard to block out are circling in his mind. The words repeating in his head, over and over. What if I never see her again? What if I can’t tell her I love her?

 He pulls into the garage, carrying Lily so he can run faster into the building. He puts her down when they finally reach the elevator. She’s been surprisingly calm despite Spencer’s nervous attitude.

 “Spencie, where is Momma?” Spencer’s heart constricts at the sound of her sweet voice. He doesn’t know where you are, and it terrifies him.

 “We are going to find out! How would you like to see my desk? You can play with the cube I showed you at home!” He pulls a Rubik’s cube out of his satchel, placing it in Lily’s small hands. He guides Lily to his desk, telling her to stay there while he looks for his friends. She looks so tiny in his desk chair, he would stop to take a picture if his phone had that feature.

 He finds the team in the round table room. His eyes scan the room, landing on JJ’s concerned expression last. He’s surprised to find Will in the room as well. JJ notices him before anyone else.

 “Spence, thank God you’re here. We need fresh eyes.” Before he can protest, Morgan is filling him in on the events that have unfolded.

 “We brought a suspect in from DC, and she knew JJ.” Spencer’s eyes go wide. If the team is in trouble, that could be why Y/N was taken.

 “When I asked her how she knew me, her only response was ‘Henry.’ Something doesn’t add up.” Movement in the doorway catches everyone’s eye.

 “Spencie, did you find Momma yet?” Lily stands in the doorway, looking straight at Spencer.

 “Not yet sweetheart. I have some cookies in my bag, why don’t you go back to my desk and eat them, okay?” 

“Can I have two?” The little girl holds up two of her tiny fingers, unaware of the confused glances from every adult in the room that isn’t Spencer. 

“Of course, sweet pea. Whatever you want. You can even spin around in my chair!” The child nods before running back to Spencer’s desk. Spencer turns around to find all eyes on him. The entire team wears similar expressions of shock and awe.

 “Spencie?” Derek questions the nickname.

 “Sweetheart?” JJ’s more focused on how Spencer responded.

 “Who the heck was that 'sweet pea’ and why have you kept her from me?” Garcia is glaring at Spencer for hiding such a cutie pie from her for however long.

 “She’s why I’m here. Well not her, her mother. We’ve been dating for the last 9 months. I picked up Lily from school today. We were supposed to meet back at her apartment, but she never came home. She’s not answering my calls and I don’t know where she could be.” Spencer breaks down as he tries to explain what’s going on. He can’t imagine a world without you in it.

 “Reid, give Garcia her phone number to track her location. This could all be related to our case. If someone is targeting the BAU, we will find them.” Hotch’s no nonsense tone calms everyone in the room. Again, movement in the doorway catches everyone’s attention.

 “Sir, she keeps saying she can explain everything. I know you said 3 hours, but I think she’s ready now.”

 “Thank you, Anderson. We’ll be right there.” The agent leaves without another word. Hotch turns back to continue filling Spencer in on the case. “Reid, we’ve got a suspect in custody. She doesn’t match the profile, but we think she knows something.”

 “She mentioned a boyfriend in the car. He might know something too.” Morgan pipes in as well.

 “I want to talk to her. If she knows where Y/N is, I have to talk to her.” Spencer is out of the room before anyone can stop him. He’s practically running across the bullpen to get to the interrogation room.

 “Y/N?” Morgan questions to the agents left in the round table room.

 --

 You are so cold. They must have the air turned down to put you on edge. You have finally calmed yourself down enough to form actual sentences instead of useless mumbling.

 “Please. Let me explain! I can tell you everything. Well, not everything, because I don’t know how my signature ended up on that paper, but I can tell you about JJ! And Henry! Let me explain!” You never thought about how weird it would be to know someone could be watching your every move. You feel like you’re talking to nobody as you beg for them to let you explain.

 The door flies open with so much force, you fall out of your chair in shock. There are hands on you, pulling you to your feet before you’ve even registered hitting the ground.

 “Where is sh- Y/N?” Spencer’s tone of voice changes so quickly your brain can’t follow. You just look into his before you burst into tears.

 “Oh thank God. Spencer, I was so scared. I was so nervous when Derek and Rossi came to interview me. I didn’t want them to hate me, you know? Even though they didn’t know who I was. And then I saw JJ, and I got even worse. I mean, she’s your best friend! And she sounded so angry, which was my fault, but I couldn’t even form words to explain myself because I was so sure these people- the people you consider family- were going to hate me and I made everything so much worse. But I-” Spencer knows if he doesn’t cut you off, you’ll ramble endlessly. It’s always like that when you spend too much time alone. As if all the energy you could’ve spent talking to someone pours out of you all at once.

 “Shh, baby, it’s okay. We can explain everything. I’m so happy to see you. To know you’re okay. God, I love you too.” You turn your tear stained face to look up at him.

 “Wha- oh my God. I said that. I didn’t even realize I said it. But it’s true. I love you so much. I can’t imagine a world without you. That’s why I was so nervous about meeting the team. And they wouldn’t let me call you, so I couldn’t ask you what to do.” The two of you continue trying to fill each other in on what has lead you to this moment.

 Hotch and JJ make their way into the room without either of you noticing. They both sit down before either speaks. “Reid, I’m going to need you to leave the room.” Spencer turned around with you still in his arms, your head pulled tight to his chest. He glares at his boss before responding. “No. She didn’t do this. The dates from the case file you gave me, they don’t line up. April 17th, we watched the new episode of Doctor Who and spent the rest of the night discussing theories. April 20th, we went to dinner to celebrate Lily’s sixth birthday. April 22nd we watched Tangled with Lily until she fell asleep and then we…” He trailed off, turning a bright shade of pink. You wiggled in his arms, trying to hide the blush on your face as well.

 “Spence, where’s Lily?” You know he needs to leave if you are ever actually going to get out of this room.

 “She’s at my desk. She looked so tiny in my chair.” He practically has heart eyes as he thinks back to where he left your little girl.

 “Why don’t you go tell her you found me? I’ll be okay.” You wipe the remaining tears from your eyes as you sit back down in the cold metal chair. Spencer looks as though he would rather read Twilight again than leave you, but he reluctantly walks out of the room.

 You start rambling before the agents get a chance to ask you a question.

 “I’m so sorry. I’ve probably wasted so much of your time. I just freaked out when I realized I was meeting Spence’s family. That’s why I know your son’s name.” You turn slightly to look at JJ. “He talks about him all the time, and he’s shown me pictures. I’m so so sorry that you had to worry about your child’s safety because of me. I was just nervous to meet you. That’s why I haven’t met you yet actually. Because I didn’t want Lily to get too attached if something happened and we broke up. Not that I can imagine breaking up with Spencer. I would spend the rest of my life with him if he gave me the chance.” You can feel the tears brimming again. “I really don’t know why my name is on that paper. I never would have signed it! My lab doesn’t use human tissues.” You try to stress that point.

 “Ms. L/N, we believe you. We never thought you were responsible, but it was a suspicious situation. You can never be too careful in our line of work.” Hotch still looks extremely serious, but his tone is slightly more relaxed than when he threw you into this room.

 “Of course. I would’ve thought I was guilty if I didn’t know the truth. Is there anything I can do to help?” You are so relieved to know they don’t think you’re a crazy murderer.

 “We need to ask you a few questions about the people who work in your lab.”

 “Oh. Okay.” You have to actively force yourself not to start rambling again.

 “Do you know any of these people?” The agent shows you three pictures of young women. They couldn’t be more than 25.

 “No…” You can’t put your finger on it, but they look familiar.

 “But?” JJ encourages you to continue.

 “I’m not sure. They look familiar for some reason.” All three women have brunette hair and green eyes. Their face shapes are even shockingly similar.

 “Do you know anyone who looks like these women?” You don’t know how they know that, but you do. They’ve planted the seed, and it instantly grew into a massive oak.

 “I do! Her name is Renee. Um... Renee Watkins. She works in the hospital, in the lab where they run blood tests.” You look at the agents with hope in your eyes. Maybe now they’ll let you leave. They both stand up without saying anything else. Hotch leaves first. JJ stares at you for a minute.

 “I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just, you’re his best friend. If you hate me, we won’t work. He cares about all of you way too much for me to get in the way of that.” You honestly still feel awful about the unnecessary fear you’ve caused her and her family.

 “He cares about you too. He’s been happier than I’ve seen him in years. I knew something was up, but I didn’t want to push him.” You can’t keep your smile off your face at her words. “Let’s forget about all of it. I’m just going to focus on the relief of knowing nobody is after my son.”

 “Thank you. I really am so sorry though.” You feel the need to keep apologizing.

 “Really, it’s fine. Come with me, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

 JJ leads you back to the bullpen. Right as you turn the corner, you can spot Spence playing with Lily and Henry. He’s captivated their attention with a magic trick.

 “He’s so good with them.” Almost involuntarily, your hand brushes over your stomach.

 “He’s always wanted to be a father.” JJ eyes your hand before giving you a rather pointed look.

 “Oh! No, I’m not pregnant.” You let your arm fall back to your side. “He’s just so good with Lily; she asked me if he could be her dad.” You can feel the tears coming again. “I just know that one day I will have that man’s babies.” JJ snorts and suddenly the two of you break out laughing. Your laughter makes enough noise to capture Spencer’s attention, two little pairs of eyes following his lead. All three of them are suddenly running across the room to you and JJ.

 Lily jumps into your arms, much as Henry does to JJ. You pull her close, leaning into Spencer as his arms circle around you both. The moment is interrupted when Penelope Garcia comes running into the room.

 “I’ve got him. Shane Harrison, 28. He dated Renee Watkins in high school. He was recently fired from his position in the human tissues lab at Children’s National Hospital. There are reports of him breaking in, although nothing was reported stolen due to falsified transfer documents.”

 “What made him start killing?” Morgan asks while you and JJ desperately cover the children’s ears.

 “Renee recently got engaged. She posted all about her new fiancée on social media. I already texted you the address.” JJ says a rushed goodbye to Will and the team is out the door. Lily runs back over Spencer’s desk with Henry so she can show him the Rubik’s cube.

 “Aren’t you going to help them?” You turn to Spencer who hasn’t left your side.

 “I think they can manage this one without me. I’m needed somewhere else at the moment.” As if to prove his point, he leans in to kiss you. It’s short and sweet and everything you needed at the moment.

 The sound of someone clearing their throat pulls the two of you out of your bubble.

 “Hi, I’m Penelope Garcia. I’m sure the Genius Doctor has told you all about me.”

 “He has indeed. You’re even lovelier in person.” Garcia is just as bright and bubbly as Spencer described her. It makes you smile to think that the team has her never ending positivity while they are surrounded by so much darkness.

 “We are having a team gathering at Rossi’s tomorrow night. You should both come. And Lily!” Garcia smiles again before walking away.

 “You know that means we have to go, right?” Spencer asks you the obvious question.

 “I know honey. You’re afraid of what Garcia could do to you if you get on her bad side.” You laugh at his pout, pulling him down the stairs and over to Lily. It’s about time you all head home.

[atsvmi-x]

my personal characterization of eren bc i’ve been thinking about him a lot🥰 this is all modern!au bc canon literally never happened.

these aren’t x reader headcanons but i have more than enough thoughts about eren in a relationship to provide those soon!

General

Loud, brash, and loyal to a fault - you either love him or hate him (or if you’re Jean, you both love and hate him)

Those that he allows into his inner circle are friends for life. He’s easy to piss off but he’s quick to forgive when it comes to friends and family. If that doesn’t apply to you, or you cross those closest to him, he’ll hold a grudge long after the issue is resolved. You’re on his shit list for life.

He wears his heart on his sleeve. It’s literally impossible for him to conceal his emotions. If he’s angry, sad, annoyed, happy, literally anything his feeling you will be sure to know.

The same goes for his opinions. Blunt beyond belief. If he thinks something is stupid he won’t hesitate to say so. He’ll backtrack to soften his delivery if he notices that it offends other parties though.

All of these factors can lead to awkward moments. 99% of the time he’s confident enough in his stance to ignore how others might receive him but the other 1% of the time you might catch the rare sight of his cheeks heating up.

Contrary to popular belief, Eren is actually smart. Not to the same caliber of Armin, Erwin or Hange when it comes to critical thinking and analysis, but it is still above average. That being said, he doesn’t necessarily apply himself to subjects that don’t immediately interest him. However, he has impeccable game sense, making him quite the accomplished athlete.

Anger issues. Clearly. It made him a difficult child... for most of his life (and probably the reason he’s an only child) but as he’s gotten older he’s learned to manage his temper. It’s still easy to rile him up though, and it’ll be a cold day in hell before he backs down from a challenge. But for the most part his attitude is a running joke between those he’s closest with.

He has a strong moral compass and sense of justice. Not in the sense that he’s conservative, far from it. His personal ideology is: as long as it’s not hurting anyone people should do what they want. and anyone that messes with that is wrong. He’s a simple guy

Bad at flirting. He can be super oblivious and when he does catch on, he’s not smooth at all. But he’s tall and pretty so it comes off as endearing 99% of the time. It’s his boy-ish charms that save him every time.

Childhood

Cute as a button as a baby. Poor Carla and Grisha were blindsided when he hit his terrible twos.

Had no friends besides Armin until middle school when his parents adopted Mikasa.

Before Mikasa, he and Armin were the black sheep of the neighborhood kids. Eren easily alienated himself from the neighborhood kids and his schoolmates due to his brash nature. Looking back on it, he still stands with his decision since it meant he found his first friend.

(Armin didn’t fit in for his old soul thanks to being raised by his grandparents)

Super curious and didn’t realize how small he was in such a big world. On several occasions he wandered off because of his curious nature. Would have been a leash kid if leash kids were a thing when he was growing up.

Could technically be considered a school bully for talking down to kids on the playground. HOWEVER, he was smaller than other kids for a while, meaning his haughty attitude resulted in petty school yard fights that he lost most of the time. Still, he never cried and never learned his lesson.

Since we was never against a fight, he made it his mission to take up for Armin. When Mikasa joined his family he did the same for her when their peers made comments about her different looks. As we know, those roles soon reversed with Mikasa taking on a protector roll

To try and find a suitable outlet for his excess...energy...Carla and Grisha signed him up for every sport under the sun. Was pretty good too but excelled at football and track and field.

Teen

Was on a first name basis with administration during his school years for getting too invested in classroom debates. His fired up nature easily boiled over outside the classroom resulting in several fist fights

Got suspended once for said fights, but more often than not Mikasa saved him before he could get into more trouble.

So angsty. Literally a textbook case of teen angst from the loud music, dark clothes, to butting his heads with his parents he was truly a nightmare. (He recognizes this and is forever apologetic to his parents for being so difficult during this time)

Started to grow out of his rebellious phase by his junior year. There was no real explanation for it he just...did. That’s not to say that he was any less combative, he just knew what battles to pick. Good job Eren.

By the time he graduates he’s such a mama’s boy. He’s always loved him mom but now his eyes have been opened to how much of a handful he was growing up. He’s embarrassed anytime she brings up old stories but he knows it’s all in good fun.

He’s also had a major growth spurt by the time he graduates and his years of playing sports have definitely paid off. He’s a total heartthrob by his senior year and unintentionally a heartbreaker. Again, it’s hard to break into his circle, nothing personal.

Young Adult (College/Post Grad)

Commits to playing football exclusively. Not out of hopes of going pro but he just really likes the sport. He’s well known around campus between sports and his personality.

Still, he can be found with any one member of his crew at any given time. It’s rare to find him by himself unless he’s in his dorm room. He’s a total extrovert and gets bored easily when left to his own devices.

BUT he’s not a total party animal. Definitely prefers kickbacks to partying. But he will show his face if someone personally asks him to come.

Smokes and drinks the normal amount. Knows his limits and isn’t a lightweight for either. But under the right conditions (i.e. drinking games, bets, etc.) he’ll over indulge. Far too touchy when he’s under the influence.

Struggled to find his “calling” in school. Most of his friends fell into majors that they clicked with but it wasn’t that easy for him. He probably ends up with a fifth year under his belt. since he didn’t officially declare a major until maybe junior year.

Graduates with a political science degree! 1) He fooled his parents into thinking he’d go to law school which satisfied his doctor dad. 2) While he doesn’t exactly know how, he wants to improve daily life for the less fortunate and he thought this was a good step to do that. 3) He loved being able to argue for a grade during in-class debates

I know we all love streamer!Eren but I really do think he’d end up going down a creative/independent route where he’s not tied to a desk 9-to-5. It really stressed him out to think about doing thing for 50 years and then being able to enjoy life after retirement.

Other

Like previously mentioned, his music tastes were pretty narrow. But as his social circle grew and he was exposed to new genres his musical pallet has expanded. His go to genres are still heavy, but he’s not against asking what song just played if he liked it (unless you’re Jean, he’ll never give him the satisfaction).

I feel like his celebrity crush is Doja Cat. I have no evidence I just feel like he’d be into her.

Baby can NOT dance. if he tries hard he can bust a two step but usually he doesn’t usually put forth the effort though. It just gets worse if he drinks.

Very much a night owl but surprisingly, he doesn’t like to sleep in either. Feels like there’s too much stuff to do in a day to just waste it in bed. He contradicts himself though bc he can spend all morning in bed playing around on his phone (he’s addicted)

[flooffybits]

At Your Corner

Idol: Kim Minji (Dreamcatcher)

Anon: my heart just broke bc i saw a pic of minji smiling but trying to hide her pain when their deja vu win got snatched by the sh*w so may i request a scenario with jiu being sad abt that but since shes in public, she needs to smile for the fans. 8th member reader who doesnt rlly show her emotions notices and just lets her kid side out like suddenly jumping in front of jiu and going "hey im a race car get on!" to make her laugh then fans coo and stuff? sry if this is a mess u can change anything tnx

A/n: this came very recently and i don’t usually work on newer requests but this fit my mood way too much that i couldn’t help BUT write it

☕buy me a coffee☕

Standing at the corner of the room, you survey the scene and watch as your members all look exhausted after everything you’ve been through.

It’s quieter than usual, and while you usually preferred it, you hated this silence.

Once again, you were close to finally obtaining a win for your group, and yet you were just a few points too short when The Show finally released the results. You could feel as your members’ shoulders visibly fell when you were all finally off the stage and from the public eye. You had all worked so hard and believed that this comeback would finally be the one to get you a win.

The first weeks of promotions had made you start to lose hope when you had yet to obtain what your group desired, but your leader remained optimistic through it all, telling you that it wasn’t over and that you still had more chances. Yet in the end, her optimism was snuffed out as she sat by the corner, head in her hands as she struggled to pull herself together for when you all had to leave the venue and face your fans.

To make matters worse, Handong was leaving for China in a few days.

With a shaky breath, you turned away and shrugged off your stage outfit, replacing it with the shirt you previously wore, tossing on your hoodie and cap when you were done before heading out of the room, one of your managers quickly following after you as Bora’s frown deepened when she caught a glimpse of your expression.

“Come on, girls. We have to get going soon.” Minji called after she cleaned her face and dusted herself off. She watched as Yoohyeon hurried and quickly left, silently asking your remaining managers where you had gone off to before she went to find you.

With a heavy heart, the girls exited the waiting room and headed for the building exit where you and Yoohyeon were already waiting, the younger girl holding your hand while she kept her head on your shoulder, nuzzling against you for comfort whilst you held her closer to yourself with your own head down.

Minji felt a tug in her heart to see you, but when she tried to reach you, Siyeon tugged at her arm and then shook her head, knowing that there would be no getting to you at this point.

While you rarely expressed yourself, it was easy to tell when you wanted to shut everything and everyone out. You would let the girls come near you, but you wouldn’t say a single thing or react to anything they’ll say except for a nod or a shake of the head in case they ask you something.

“Unnie told me she was with Everglow before Yoohyeon unnie found her.” Gahyeon muttered softly from beside the vocalist. “She said she was trying to make them feel better because of the votes.”

It was a little after you all exited the stage when people began making comments online about miscalculations. As much as it was a possibility, you and your members decided not to look into it just so it wouldn’t further worsen your mood. You were already upset with having lost, it made you feel even worse to know that your dongsaengs were most likely receiving backlash with everything that was happening.

“It’s going to be okay.” Bora murmured, squeezing her friend’s hand as they approached you and the quiet girl. Handong offered you a small smile, but you merely nodded at her before looking to the door, hearing the shouts of fans that were waiting for you.

You lower your cap over your eyes just to avoid making further eye contact with anyone before finally leaving the venue, eyes squinting at the flashing of the cameras. Yoohyeon had let go of you to join Bora and Yubin’s side. Siyeon and Gahyeon stood closely side by side and Minji was clinging to Handong in order to comfort both of them.

And it just hurt so much more to see them forcing smiles on their faces when you knew just how terrible they all felt. You also knew that your own fans felt just as bad, seeing the tears on some of them when the winners were announced.

Right now, you felt stuck because it was usually Gahyeon and Minji who kept bright smiles on their faces. Your members were always eager to interact with fans, just like you, but this whole predicament merely took its toll on all of you.

But you refused to let this night end with them in tears.

Smiling, you waved to your fans and tried to give off the energy your members were lacking despite how it would usually be the other way around. Looking to your managers for permission, they were a little less strict this time around when they knew you just needed some space and allowed you to approach some fans.

Your members were somewhat surprised as you stepped away from them to greet everyone, thanking each of them for coming and supporting you all. Minji could feel her eyes watering at the sight of you trying your absolute best in covering for all of them, even trying to distract fans from noticing their weary state.

“Please be safe when you get home! The others are a little tired so please understand.” You tell them with a meaningful look and you were just grateful to know you had such understanding and thoughtful fans.

Even with the blinding flashes of the camera, you did your best speaking with them until your eyes landed on a few teary eyed Somnias. You felt your throat close up, but you do your best to swallow your emotions before approaching them. “Hey, why are you crying?” You asked and they turn to you with sadness swimming in their glossy eyes.

“We wanted to finally give you all a win, but we couldn’t do it.” One of them answers, your expression softening before you shook your head and opened your arms for them. Giving them both a warm hug, you patted their backs before giving them a small squeeze. “You guys did more than enough. You got us nominated, and that’s a really big thing, so thank you.” You assure them with your best smile,

“We’ll keep working harder, so please don’t be sad.”

Seeing your interaction with the fans pushed tears to Siyeon’s eyes and she had to avert her gaze while Bora wiped at the corner of her own eyes at your selflessness.

It didn’t take long before you came bounding over to your members and you sported a grin as you patted all of them, be it on the arm of back. “Come on, come on! I’m hungry, aren’t you?” You question playfully, earning a giggle from Yubin while Handong reached to pinch your cheeks.

When you turn to your leader, you smile before turning around so your back is facing her then gesture for her to hope onto your back. “Unnie, everyone is slow! Come on, you can get the food faster if you come with me.”

Minji couldn’t help but laugh at your display, her heart warming at your rare carefree personality and knowing that you were doing this for them.

So, without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around your shoulder as you crouched down before allowing you to lift her on her back, laughter bubbling from her lips as you carried her away from the rest of your members while they watched on with smiles on their faces, happy to see your leader a little better compared to earlier.

“Yah! Unnie, be careful!” Gahyeon called out when Minji squealed after you nearly tripped, but you were able to tighten your hold on her legs, securing her on your back before you decided to merely walk instead of run to the van, the older woman’s face tucked comfortably against your neck that you could feel her smiling against your skin.

You didn’t have to go out of your way to check up on her and make her feel better, but she appreciated how you still did so without anyone having to ask you to do it. As quiet as you were, she loved the way you were ready to come to their aid.

“Thank you.” You hear her whisper and you hum while shrugging your shoulders lightly. “It’s nothing, unnie.” Though despite your words, she knows that you were relieved to have her, and the others, smiling as well.

Later that night, there are articles about you and your actions for that day. Pictures of you with fans and Minji, especially, circulate everywhere, but the girls decide that staying off social media would be healthy for them as they happily ate the food that you had asked your managers to bring to the dorm.

“Do you think we should wake her up?” Yubin asked when she glanced to your shared room, but Handong shook her head and smiled after drinking some water. “Jiu unnie did say she’ll take care of Y/n, so we can wait until they’re back.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen Y/n unnie have that much energy.” Yoohyeon commented after chewing her food, Gahyeon nodding in agreement with a tiny smile on her face. “Unnie is honestly so cute. I wanted to cry when she was hugging and comforting Somnias.” The maknae pouted while Bora giggled. “That kid is really unpredicatable sometimes.”

Siyeon scoffed at her claim, chopsticks pointed in the dancer’s direction. “Speak for yourself.” That earned a smack on the arm as Handong burst into laughter, everyone else following after as they exchanged more stories, forgetting about the award show and their previous concnerns.

Meanwhile, Minji looked down at you with a fond smile as you laid on her chest, arms wrapped around her waist as she kept her own around your slightly smaller frame.

As much as she cried earlier, you were able to make her feel better. Even as you slept soundly against her, she would thank you endlessly for being in her life and picking her up whenever she was down.

Somewhere along the way, she realized that some trophy meant nothing compared to the love and support she’s received from the people who surrounded her. While it was nice to have that recognition for the group, she would pick a group that was stable and gave as much as they received any day.

As long as you were among those people, her heart was safe and sound.

[pure-kirarin]

Zoro x dancer reader

lofi-coffee said :hey! i just came from your zoro hc’s hxbsjxb which was absolutely *chefs kiss* btw! do you so scenarios? if so could i request a scenario based off of the “good dancer” hc, where hes admiring his s/o dance and she pulls him out to join her? he stumbles, its a lil messy, but who tf cares bc they’re happy and that’s all that mattersplease + thank you. hope you have fun writing it!💕

Thanks for your request and for your feedback ! It makes me so so happy everytime someone reads what I write...Because I never expected that anyone would read my work ! I wrote this and I hope that you like it...I had fun writing it but I don’t know if it’s what you expected or wanted hahah. ~ I love tension uwu Ps: cool tumblr name ;w; <3 (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ **************** How could she move her body that way ? It was almost indecent. That's what was going through Zoro's mind as his sight was hanged to your body. He was sitting there, away from the dance floor, drinking glass after glass of beer. He was lazily looking at you while enjoying his drink. Damn, what a good dancer He was quite entertained by your figure, gracefully moving to the sound of the music. He was in this little bar in Dressrosa, finding his way to it to enjoy a drink before the execution of the plan. The other strawhats were each discovering this rather charming city. Dressrosa...The city of passion, he smirked a bit, looking at you he was begining to understand why it was called that way. The ladies were good dancers, not that he cared about dancing much but...He had to admit that he loved getting entertained while drinking and you were quite the entertainment. Was it the drinks or was it his mind playing him tricks ? Because he was damn sure that it was as if you were the only one on the dance floor... Some soft bachata music was playing. At first, he could only see your back moving sensually. When you turned around, he swallowed pretty hard, both your eyes met and you weren't one to look down. You continued dancing while looking him in the eyes with a little smile on your face. He rised his eyebrow, she's not intimidated ? Good. He smirked, amused by your attitude. You were certainly aware that you were the star of the show. You didn't have a partner either, isn't bachata supposed to be a social dance ? Zoro didn't dwell on these thoughts, he just wanted to enjoy his night, his gaze attached to your body. The swordsman being a bad dancer wasn't going to say nor do anything. He just wanted to look at you and to drink a lot. He didn't want anything from you, in fact, you seemed surreal and he thought for a second that maybe you were the fruit of his imagination and that of the dyonisiac beverage. Maybe if his fingers caressed your hair, you'd vanish in smoke. He turned his face towards the barista, making a sign with his hand to ask for a new drink while his glass was still half full. His eyes then switched to the dance floor and you were gone, just as the music stopped. You vanished. He let out a sigh, were you really just a hallucination ? He thought his tolerance to alcohol was impeccable. « -Hey, are you going to join me or are you just going to look at me ? Your voice was smooth and sensual. Zoro looked from right to left, ah, you were talking to him, after all, you noticed his gaze. -Hm ?  He grumbled, amused but not impressed, not yet. -God. Don't react this way. Your eyes almost poked a hole through my body and now that's all you say ? » Zoro thought that you were quite aggressive in your advance. He wasn't going to deny that he was indeed looking at you. He didn't feel shy, he just looked and you couldn't blame him for it, not when you danced in that way. He looked you right in your eyes, looking for an answer, what did you want from him ? He was surprised of finding amusement, challenge, almost like you were defying him. He wanted to see how far you were going to reach. -I'm drinking. He waves his glass. You were aware of your charm and you knew that the swordsman found you attractive, otherwise he wouldn't look at you this way. But how could he devour you with his eyes and act so ininterested ? Your ego couldn't handle his attitude. You came to him by yourself and he was letting his « chance » go. Didn't he know how many other guys dream of dancing with you ? But you were drawn to this stranger, to this man that you have never seen around. His look when you were dancing caught your attention, it wasn't just a look of lust, it was a mixture of appreciation, fascination and desire. You wanted to know why he looked at you that way. You snatched the glass off his hand and drank its content in one go. He looked at you surprised. Wild. He thought to himself. He was starting to get interested in you. Could you be entertaining in more than one way ? You put the glass on the zinc quite violently and then you hold his sleeve really tight, pulling him a bit. «- Now you don't have an excuse. You dance ? He appreciated your boldness, however, what he didn't want to admit is that he is a really bad dancer. He was content just looking at you...But now you were defying him with that look of yours. -It wasn't an excuse. -Then what ? You're scared that I'll stab you or something... ? -Me ? Scared ?..Don’t make me laugh.” You giggled. Zoro knew about this « rumor », about Dressrosa's women being extremely passionate, stabbing their lovers if they ever cheat...What were you implying ? However, his swordsman pride didn't let him lose to you. He groaned and got up. You had a victorious smile as you held his hand, bringing him to the dance floor. The music started slowly and you knew that he didn't know how to dance Bachata. He was awkward and stiff and you found that to be cute. You wanted to dance with him because you knew that anyone could dance bachata, especially when you were leading. The music started and you put your arms around him. « -Eh...What are you doing here ? What am I supposed to do exactly.. ? You chuckled -It's bachata...here... you took his hand and placed it on your waist and the other one on your back. Don't worry, just follow me...anyone can dance. Place your leg between mine... -what ? -Trust me...Come on...Do it.. Zoro blushed a bit, he wasn't used to all of this dancing thing...it was silly, he just wanted to admire you while drinking but he was too proud to admit that he is « scared » of dancing, especially when you defied him with your fawn eyes. He stumbled, stepping on your feet making you let out an « ouch ! » of pain. His movements were so stiff, and honestly, he was just bad that it was almost cute. You expected a sensual dance, like bachata usually is but his hands on your skin were so tense. -Follow the music...Follow my body. » Some curious looks were on you, you looked amazing together even though the dancing was bad and messy on his part. Your grace almost made up for his false move, honestly all he had to do was to hold you close to him sensually but even something that simple seemed complicated to the swordsman. It was very endearing...Charming. You danced for a little while, following the rhythm of the music. -Oh god...you are worse than I expected...You said, provoking. Zoro was getting impatient and pulled you closer to him very aggressively. You were startled and stopped dancing. The swordsman had this aura that was pulling you towards him like a magnet. His look, the same one that he has earlier while looking at you...It was so intense, you wanted his eyes on you...You were dying out of curiosity for him. « -What's the matter now ?...I thought that you were a good dancer..  A smirk on the lips, a hot touch on your waist and you were already far, far away... -I...I am. You just startled me ! » You tried to hide your embarrassment but he read through your game. He was just as curious for you as you were curious for him. He wanted to see more of your dancing...And dance with you in many other ways. You passed the test, you looked resilient enough to put with his detached attitude. You also weren't scared of looking silly as seen from your little dance with him. The music stopped another time and he gave you a big smile now, he had to say that he didn't expect that he'd have such fun dancing with you. -Thanks for this dance, you said, ready to part ways. As your were turning back, he held your wrist pretty tight, startling you once again. You locked eyes with him, you thought that he didn't want anything more. He let go of your wrist then looked left, then right, then back at you. -Now that you showed me how to dance I'd like to show you something I'm good at... He scratched the back of his neck while saying this, always looking somewhat detached but also sure of himself. You were surprised but appreciated his honesty, after all, if it meant having those eyes look at you one more time...Why not ? -Haha...I'll be the judge of that. » You put your index finger on his chest then turned back. That night was the night when you met Zoro around a dance in the city of passion. It was also the starting of a passionate love story between both of you. Your love came in waves, just like a bachata dance, sometimes you pulled and sometimes he did, it was sensual, a bit awkward and messy at times but it was for sure passionate and enjoyable. ************ Please feel free to give me feedback and don’t hesitate to drop in my ask box to get to know each other =) I’m new to this fandom and I appreciate everyone already. ^-^ <3 

[moral-turpitudes]

College Headcanons: Modern!Peaky Blinders Edition

Part 1 | Part 2

A/N: This came to me in a dream. Enjoy. 

Thomas Shelby:

Double Major: Political Science and Business Management (bc he likes to work himself to death) Minor: Military Sciences/ROTC

Likes debating and trying to outsmart the professor.

Often seen on campus with bloody knuckles from rocking someone’s jaw.

Would 100% punch a motherfucker for being mean to someone he cares about.

Doesn’t need to be in a fraternity to be known around campus, just don’t mess with him and you’ll be fine.

All the girls whisper as he walks by but he don’t give a fuck cuz he has to go to his lectures.

He’s on time for every class and pulls out his pocket watch if the professor is more than 5 minutes late. If the professor can’t bother showing up then he dips out.

Almost got suspended for one too many fist fights.

Has a “thing” for the barista at the campus Starbucks. He learned after frequent visits, that her name was Grace and that she liked black coffee just like him.

Mysterious and moody af. No one knows if they’ve ever seen him smile, except when chatting up Grace.

Tries his best to study, but ends up getting dragged into his siblings shenanigans or into his head about the family business.

Keeps to himself for the most part, except for having a few close friends.

Hates technology so he uses a typewriter and prefers receiving letters/mail over emails.

Can’t figure out how to use Grace the baristas phone when typing in his number and tells her to write it down instead.

Often tells her to meet him after her shift. 😏

Professors hate him because of his reliance on paper. Totes not eco-friendly but he doesn’t care. Tommy always gets his way.

Grace always gives him a cookie for free cuz she knows he forgets to eat.

Always seen smoking or sneaking drinks of whiskey in a flask, even at 7am lectures.

Binge drinks on weekends with his bros, and drunk calls barista Grace when he has maybe 3 working brain cells left for the night. On other weekends when he’s coherent, he meets with Polly and tries to discuss business plans since their dad dipped out like a bitch.

To make matters worse, after dating for a while, Grace just leaves him. He thinks his aunt Polly may have been too hard on her, but he didn’t know until later that she lied when she said she didn’t know about the business. But barista bitch knew everything, and was gonna expose them to her higher-ups in the criminal justice department before long.

Arthur Shelby:

Major: Agriculture Minor: Military Science/ROTC

Graduated just barely.

Ended up in some trouble with his peeps in the military science department, probs for cussing someone out.

Angry, loud, and emotional af.

Loved drinking with John and his frat boy friends.

No one messed with him if they valued their life.

Started one too many fights and got suspended for reals. Almost beat a man to death but we don’t talk about that.

He gets stressed really easily so in his free time he draws horses.

When he gets real mad he takes it to the campus boxing ring and punches to his hearts content.

On his way back to his dorm one night he saw a girl who was in his agriculture class. She was cute and also in a “Christian” ministry group on campus. He decided to chat her up when she was preaching, just to see what it was about.

They later dated but then she cheated around with a fellow churchy man and just went off the rails. When he found out it wasn’t pretty.

Her friends and pastor most likely shamed her cuz she be ✨sinning✨. Therefore not helping her mental state.

Her name was Linda. Never trust a Linda.

Everyone tried to console Arthur but only boxing and drinking at Johns frat house did the trick.

Tommy often had to run to his dorm in the middle of the night to talk him out his mental breakdowns. College is hard.

In the end, he was glad he did agriculture even if his crazy ex would constantly stare at him during lectures, probably plotting his demise.

Some days he’d take out his frustrations by chopping wood and helping out on the farm where he worked and studied most days.

But you bet your ass fuckin’ Linda showed up to his dorm one time though with a gun and tried to shoot him, but she didn’t know his brothers and aunt were there too. Polly may have shot her in the arm tho. But when the campus PD showed up shit really went down.

We don’t know where Linda is now, but that’s probs for the best.

John Shelby:

Major: Music (idk I felt like he’s a musical boi) Minor: Military Science/ROTC

He’s a frat boy through and through. He drops it low on the dance floor and is known to dive onto beer pong tables.

Constantly going to parties and hooking up with sorority girls, that is until he meets a girl named Esme who’d been dragged to the party by her friends.

Suddenly he ain’t no hoe no more, he’s head over boots in love with her and she loves him too.

They be sneaking around in various buildings, often having to make a run for it to escape security.

He’d play her songs after hard training days with his military buds cuz it helps him calm down.

He’s not as violent as his older brothers, but he’ll fuck a person up if needed.

His fraternity is the second most important thing to him besides his girl. He loves the energy of the fraternity, the partying, and acting a whole fool with his friends, but Esme has him whipped.

His studies are struggling though cuz he loves to get turnt. He hates the studying aspect of college.

Always getting his brothers into trouble.

Snorts coke off Esme’s tits on occasion at the frat parties. It’s a wild time.

Has the mouth of a sailor but a heart of gold.

Talks of kids with Esme after dating for a year. Can’t afford a ring yet tho, but their bud Jeremiah marries them anyway on a whim.

After Arthur and the Grace fiasco ensues, he drops out of college because Esme falls pregnant. In the end, she ends up getting the chickens and wild cottage!core house she’d always wanted. They both decide to raise their kids there, living their best lives until Tommy drags them into more family matters later on.

Ada Shelby:

Major: English Minor: Gender & Women’s Studies

Always seen in the most stylish clothes.

She’s quiet most times but can be very knowledgeable on various subjects.

She’s constantly going off on her older brothers and trying to smack some sense into them.

Feels like something is off with the barista Tommy’s been seeing, but it’s not her problem.

Can 100% find her chilling in the back of Starbucks reading old novels or writing literature reviews.

When she’s not there, she’s holed up in the library where she works part time, studying and practicing for debates.

10/10 would fuck in the library cuz she knows all the best secret places to go to. 😏

Organizes meetings with different campus associations and demands equality for students.

Spends her free time surfing the net for clothes or keeping an eye out for a potential new bae.

Is probably the best at studying. She earns the best grades let’s be honest.

Will not hesitate to call a bitch out. She may not throw hands but she’ll throw words that can cut you like a knife.

Works for the campus paper, spilling all the tea on campus life. Her brothers often reluctantly agree to be her mock interview subjects for a range of assignments.

She breaks necks when walking around campus, everyone moves out of their way for her.

She’s a bad bitch.

Finn Shelby:

Major: Photography Minor: English

He hates how violent his brothers are but would 10/10 back them up if needed.

Often asks Ada for advice on studying and girls.

Doesn’t like the frat boy scene like John, but goes to the parties anyways with his best friends Isiah and Bonnie.

He’s a freshman and you can tell. He still has a glimmer of life in his eyes and a pep in his step as he walks around campus.

When he’s not taking pictures for class, he’s taking pictures of his girlfriend.

She’s his muse even when doing the simplest of things like sitting in a chair or reading one of his English books.

Each week he’d surprise her with a picture he took when she wasn’t looking, telling her how beautiful she is.

He may not look strong, but after many nights at the boxing ring with Arthur, he knew how to throw a punch.

He almost flunked his studies a couple times, getting too caught up in partying or being with his girl, but Ada and his Aunt Polly set him straight.

Voted by his family as most likely to not get arrested or suspended from college.

He’d have deep conversations with his friends, often confusing them because it was just that deep.

In his spare time he’d go boxing with Arthur or would try to help Tommy with his essays, but Tommy would get frustrated and tell him to fuck off within the first 10 minutes.

Polly Gray:

Profession: Business Management Professor Side Job: Managing the blinder business with Tommy

When she’s not teaching class, she’s managing the blinder business that was left to her and Tommy to tackle. This also means covering up any suspicions that arise on campus. She has her hands full.

She’s Tommy’s only shred of common sense some days when he gets too stressed out from his 10,000 majors and minors, or wants to plan to overthrow the university.

Will not hesitate to slap someone, preferably her unruly nephews.

Anyone can lie to her but the truth always falls through the cracks, and when she finds out, you’d pray you faced the devil instead.

In her spare time she reads tea leaves and prays for the corrupt souls of her son and his cousins. She really just begs to god that they can come together for once to get the business in line, but even that may be asking too much.

Knows a snake when she sees one. *cough* *cough* Grace the barista.

She’s the first one to tell someone I told ya so, especially her students when they flunk her tests because they decided to get drunk the night before.

When she’s not yelling at her nephews or grading papers, she can be seen at the local bar chatting up coworkers and old flames, hoping to find “the one” eventually. She ends up having a “thing” for the quirky Philosophy professor though. He’s kind of shady cuz she finds out he’s in a similar business on the side, but it only makes her like him more. She craves the danger.

They later end up in a whirlwind romance similar to John and Esme, and everyone loves that for them.

She can also be seen with her head in her hands when trying to persuade Tommy to use technology.

“What is copy and paste Pol? Can’t I just write it down? What’s up with all these gadgets aye?”

“If you want your hand to fall off and to make me lose my mind, then yes, write it down. Grading is bloody hard enough as it is, let alone grading your papers. You’re just like your father ya know, always doing things the hard way.”

Tells Gina off when she gets the chance just like she did Grace. She didn’t shoot her like Linda though, she just hurt some feelings.

May have aided in Grace’s “sudden” departure…maybe…just a little bit.

Secretly ships Tommy with a woman named Lizzie who had been her assistant at her office. She knew she could trust her more, at least.

Despite her harshness, she’s just trying to keep her family from completely fucking up their lives.

Michael Gray:

Major: Accounting Minor: Business Management

Like Tommy, he doesn’t get the hype of fraternities so he just hangs out with his cousins or his small circle of friends, they aren’t saints though.

His mom, Polly is his business management professor. She always calls on him and gives him a hard time when he spaces out in class.

Is often seen around campus with a few friends or his girlfriend Gina who he met in business class. They’re sickening and it was like a whirlwind romance tbh.

He usually finds himself cleaning up his cousin’s messes when it comes to fighting, but if he has to throw some punches he will.

He’s not as impulsive when it comes to matters of business, but where matters of the heart are concerned that’s another story.

When the blinders and Polly were all at her house for dinner one night he announced he was going to marry Gina. Arthur and John laughed and Tommy smirked slightly, still butt-hurt after his Grace left him for little-to-no reason. Ada grinned and bared the news whilst Polly nearly smacked him on the head.

People didn’t dare mess with him, and that went for all his cousins as well.

He spent a majority of his days in class crunching numbers, and most his nights out with the boys getting drunk or fuckin’ with Gina.

Because his mom held him accountable, his grades rivaled Ada’s causing them to get into some friendly competition at times.

He’s cunning like Tommy though. He got into many a screaming match with the older blinder after trying to take over his position in the family business. It ended in some black eyes and Polly smacking both of them with her newspaper. He knew better than to mess with the devil himself.

Despite the tensions between the cousins at times, he’s always the one they go to when they can’t figure out their math homework, and he’d always have to meet one of them in the library at 3 am to smuggle in some cocaine and a drink to keep them studying.

[sporksaber]

Ok, I love the role swap concept with zuko and azula, but I feel like they switch their abilities and personalities a bit too and I think itd be more fun without that. Where Azula is an antisocial and unstable genius who wants to gain power and zuko still struggles with being the less powerful and extremely empathetic sibling. So here's how I'd do it.

(Note, this is just for fun. I'm not saying anyone else's version is bad. But I've though about this so much and need it out of my head before I go off cuz make a whole comic and I do not have the time, i need to work.)

First off, Azula wouldn't call out in concern for the men like how zuko did. In my version she's allowed into the meeting because of the aptitude for strategy shes shown. She speaks up because it's an inefficient plan that uses up too many resources when there are other options. This enrages her father and leads to the agni kai. Azula is terrified and feels betrayed but has no idea how to handle any of it. She fights back during the agni kai, but in her panic she sets off a bolt of lightning. Ozai finishes the match and severely burns on her lower back. Azula is banished for her use of lightning on the fire lord (bc ozai fears she will no longer be easy to manipulate and might plot his death) and is forced to leave the next morning.

Some things to note: azula is eleven at this point. I changed the placement of the scar bc I think zuko's is very symbolic in a way that doesnt suit azula. Zuko's scar being over his eye and close to the light chakra shows the way his view of the fire nation and honour obscures his vision and how he is unaware of the truth of the world under fire nation rule. I set azula's over her spine because that chakra is based on survival and blocked by fear. It also represents trust which will fit into her arc with the gaang. Finally, she doesnt have Iroh to guide her. One of the things that bothered me was Iroh writing her off as evil despite her being a mentally unstable child. She did have to be defeated, but the way he talked about it was too dismissive. (Personally I think he was projecting his views of his brother and his perceived failures with him onto her.) Azula isnt sent to capture the avatar so she isnt given soldiers. She's completely alone without an advisor to look to or keep her calm.

Azula is given a manned ship with a disgraced soldier and an attendant when she leaves. The way I see it the soldiers zuko had were probably more irohs than his. The soldier is relieved to not be executed but hates being demoted to playing babysitter to a child at sea. The attendant views it as a punishment and hates Azula for it. Eventually the attendant will betray her and be killed for it. Azula never trusted the soldier and he eventually leaves to start a family in an earth kingdom colony. Azula doesnt miss him, he was no longer useful. The loneliness does get to her though.

Azula is obsessed with getting the underhand, so she had been successfully building connections and planting spies where needed.

(Zuko has been acting as a respectable crowned prince. He holds a zealous loyalty to his nation and father. He still faulters as Iroh tries to steer him from tyranny, but his sights are set on his father's approval and that alone. Afterall, if his prodigy could be discarded who's to say what would happen to him if he failed?)

This brings us to the start of the series. Like Zuko Azula witnesses the trap on the old fire nation battle ship go off. She investigates and finds that an air bending avatar is living at the south pole village. She decides she wants to speak with him.

Azula didn't believe the avatar existed before this point. Hiding didnt add up to her knowledge of the morality of airbenders, so she assumed the air nation avatar from the start of the war would be dead. She would know if one had appeared in the water tribe, as the south had all its benders killed and the north was compacted so close together it would be impossible to hide. Earth would be harder, but they were most likely to fight back and out act. And if in ba sing se they'd be used as a weapon or gotten rid of to preserve the peace of the city. Once the culcle progressed to the fire nation it would either be used to take over the other nations or enf the cycle for good. After all, there hasn't been an air bender for a hundred years even if the rumors of some acolytes surviving were truthful.

Azula kidnaps aang with far more ease than she should of been able to. Once he stops struggling she calmly offers him tea and promises to release him once their discussion is finished. He takes the tea and drinks it without question and besides a wary glare shows no more hostility. She thought him a fool, the tea could have easily been poisoned and promised are nothing but words. His naivete makes her job easier though.

She finds out that he was suspended frozen in the avatar state the last 100 years. And so, Azula informs him of the war and the fire nations crimes, advising him to master the elements if he wants to prevent all his new friends and the avatar cycle from certain destruction. Aang is conflicted, he never asked for any of this. Azula just gives a bitter smile. "The hands of fate were never designed to take requests, they move without regard to any life dependent on it. Dont waste your breath when there is nothing you can do."

Azula wants to see Ozai fail. If helping the avatar is what it takes then so be it. When his friends appear to save him she let's them leave without a fight. Theyll be useful in the future.

As the gaang's travels kick off she sets out to find out if the rumours about the acolytes are true. In this she finds a traveling circus. The youngest daughter and an old friend of hers was eager to escape and found Azula's life exciting. She didn't hesitate after being invited along, insisting that traveling would be easy for her and that she'd pull her own weight.

She encounters the gaang a few times as time goes by. The relationship is reluctant on the water tribe siblings part, they dont trust her and hold a decent amount of fear towards her. Her cold and calculating demeanor was unsettling, but the unhinged way she fought was terrifying. Her form was perfect and her attacks were precise, but the bigger the fight the more lost she became as she laughed and shrieked and occasionally snapped at someone who didnt seem to be there. The only worse reaction was when she zeroed in on one opponent, picking them apart both mentally and physically as she drove them to the ground. )

Things that'll happen as I move through an episode list:

Azula doesn't have her ship attacked do she diesnt run into zhao while doing repairs, instead going straight to ty lee.

Azula learns that the gaang is on kyoshi island and heads ther after them. She has been keeping track of the avatar as they move. Ty lee gets along well with the kyoshi warriors while azula buts heads with them. They dont want her there and azula hates it when people get in the way. Zhao appears to try to capture aang and Azula dips at the same time as the gaang. She tells ty lee she can stay but she insists on sticking with azula. This puts her on edge.

Ty lee gets captured by earth benders, when she escapes on her own she cements her usefulness to Azula.

They run into zhao trying to capture the avatar and azula tells him she'll capture him first. They both attack aang during the solstice, though azula's attacks are all purposefully set to miss and trip up zhao as much as possible. Aang is the best way to prove her father wrong and she's not going to lose that.

They rob the pirates that try to capture the avatar. Azula needs the resources and it gives her leverage over the gaang.

After almost killing ty lee for scaring her by popping up behind her Azula tells her why she was banished. (In more of a "my own mother thought I was a monster" way than an opening up about trauma way.)

Azula learns that zhao has captured aang and frees him. She then sets to reworking her information network as not all of them are scared enough of her to not fail her. She remedies it quickly.

Azula learns that zhao is plotting her assassination and decides it's the perfect moment to fake her death.

Azula enters the north pole to defeat zhao and gain any information she can. Ty lee rades a library during the confrontation. Zhao is surprised and infuriated to see her alive, Azula smiles as she sends him to his death knowing that she is not only helping the avatar but also that he gave her a perfect way to hide from the fire nation. (When news of his sisters death reaches hum, Zuko doesnt know what to think. She was always cruel to him, but she was still his little sister.)

The crown prince of the fire nation is sent to capture the avatar. Azula follows him as he begins his search. (Zuko begins to think he's going insane as he keeps catching glimpses of his recently deceased sister out of the corner of his eye.)

Ty lee keeps running into a girl she slowly befriends. She's gloomy and sarcastic and ty lee thinks Azula would like her. (Zuko's fiance Mai tells him that she thinks his sister is still alive.)

As Azula notices ty lee become more and more distracted as she absorbed herself into the cultures that surround them she decides it's best for them to split up. Ty lee diesnt agree, but Azula leaves anyway. She has work to do.

While traveling alone Azula cant escape the thoughts of her mother. Of her fathers betrayal. Of the life she lost because the idiot elders had no grip on proper strategy that even a child could create. She meets a boy that reminds her far too much of zuko with a mother far to similar to theirs. When she sends the bandits controlling the town running she knows it's more than just controlling a territory that compelled her. But at the same time she doubts not following through on the whim would have bothered her.

Ty lee meets toph and chat for a bit. Ty lee tells her about azula and how she left. When toph tells her she should forget her she insists that azula didnt really ditch her and that they're still friends. They talk about their friends and childhood.

Ty lee finds Azula and immidiently jumps at her, which she does not enjoy. Ty lee insists that she still wants to travel with her and Axula sighs as she let's her tag along to the next location, ba sing se.

Azula slips through guards and protocols as she tries to gain any information she can to help her once they reach the city. Ty lee befriends a guy named jet and his group, the freedom fighters. When he tries to get more than friendship she turns him down and it becomes much more awkward.

Ty lee becomes a street performer and chames everyone she meets as Azula researches the dai lee and how they keep control. After lashing out in frustration ty lee drags her out to enjoy the city's night life.

Azula learns of the presence of the avatar and location of appa. She frees him and sets to work taking control of the dai lee. She let's herself be briefly captured but her plan shifts when katara is thrown in with her. Katara is pissed just being around her and azula plays up a cool kind of annoyance. Katara briefly catches sight of the burns on Azula's back and offers to heal her, only for Azula to freak out and yell at her to stay away, backing against a far wall in a fighting stance. They are saved by the rest if the gaang and ty lee shortly after.

Azula goes back to try and salvage her plan only to be caught off guard by the appearance of her brother and his offer to return to the fire nation. Not willing to lose all possible advantages, she agrees. They battle the gaang, and when they are almost captured azula sends a bolt of lightning at aang, causing them to retreat. Katara can heal him more easily than she can maneuver them out of an execution.

Azula returns to the fire nation with her brother, mai and ty lee, starting the beginning of a large power play between her and her father. They are sent to lo and li beach house. The relationship between the siblings is tense, zuko has always been the child born with nothing who gained everything when his blessed at birth sister lost it all. Azula has always been cruel, but he cant help but let his heart catch on the moments when she's not. ("My own mother thought I was a monster, My father thought i was too difficult to keep around" "Don't let their words blind you, you need to be more careful, zuzu." "I learned the hard way to never turn your back to anyone, and the scars will always be there as a reminder if I need it." )

Azula runs into iroh, who is very disapproving of her presence. He warns her to stay away from zuko and to watch herself while at the palace. Later, zuko comes to her asking about their great grandfather. Upon being pressed he admits that he was sent a mysterious letter. He thought she was going to burn it when he handed it to her but instead the heat from the fire revealed a hidden ink. "Honestly brother, did you ever pay attention at all during lessons?" They find a autobiographical scroll of their great grandfathers life and the secret that their other great grandfather was roku. Azula scoffed at the idea of bloodlines deciding fate and quickly left. But Zuko remained conflicted.

During the day of the black sun Azula confronts Ozai. As iroh and Zuko fight the avatar. She learns that her mother left for zuko's sake and that she was never going to be fire lord. Azula tells him she'll be somthing even better and leaves the palace.

Azula and ty lee follow the gaang to the western air temple. Katara immidprntly attacks but is quickly rendered unable to bend by ty lee. Azula tells them that the only way for them to of gotten out was for Aang to be incapacitated, and she knew katara could heal him. Aang decides they can stay but have to stay distanced from everyone else.

Azula tries to teach aang fire bending but is slowly growing sick while aang is barely able to produce a puff of smoke. Unable to sleep and constantly on edge, it soon affects her bending, sending her spiraling as she loses control on the only consistent power she's ever had. Her and aang journey to find the true source of fire bending to try to help their conditions.

Still sick, Azula is itching to do anything away from the temple. Finding sokka trying to reach the boiling rock to find his father, she decides to go with him as she knows the prison well. Sokka declines but she goes anyway. They dont find his father, but they do find suki. Azula formulates a plan but they postpone when sokka's father arrives.

Azula comes up with a new plan, now reluctant to include sokka. He tells her to trust him but she insists she has no reason to. Her sickness has been getting worse and he tells her she needs to trust him, making her angry. Only when he catches her while they're escaping dies she finally begin to accept trusting him, if only slightly.

(While they're away ty lee tries to convince

Azula goes with Katara to find the man who killed her mother. Azula has no concept of why katara is so upset, which causes her to get angry. But azula tracks the man anyway.

Ember island players- azulas character has the scar across her chest. She's absolutely insane and "not entirely inaccurate, but I'd never come up with such a dumb plan." Shes also heavily implied to be more than close to ty lee, which azula has no reaction to even as the others freak out.

I havent decided the ending, zuko will probably turn to the gaang's side. I'll add more later and maybe write or illustrate a bit.

[jpegjade]

Confessions - Spencer Reid

frens and ferns, IM OUT OF SCHOOL FOR A MONTH. so here’s a new fic about something i’ve been struggling with lately...

summary: With emily gone, Spencer is having a hard time coping with her death. After a little prodding, he finds comfort in y/n, who is struggling with their own demons.

gender: neutral (i think. i tried not to point to any gender terms so hopefully i did okay at it bc i dont feel like proofreading.)

Warnings: talk of addiction but nothing more

———

Getting home from a case was always, hard on you. There were days when it was harder to get up in the morning because of the physical and emotional toll the job put on your body. Ever since that un-sub broke your ankle, everything has been even harder.

“Y/L/N, nice to see you back." Morgan said as you exited the elevator.

“You too, D." You said, plastering a fake smile on your face. In truth, you wished that you were off for one more week but the world wasn't that kind to you.

The doors to the elevator were slowly closing when you heard Spencer shuffling quickly toward your direction.

Before you had the chance to throw your arm in the way of the elevator sensors, Spencer's slender body slipped through.

You were a newer member to the team. Well... You were the only new member to the team. Being a replacement for agent Emily Prentiss, the team getting to know you was a process. Derek trained you so he already knew what you were like in action but this was the first case the rest of the team saw you on.

The silence in the elevator was loud and thick with anticipation. Spencer was looking over at you in quick glances when he wasn't staring at his converse.

“You didn't press a number." Spencer said, barely loud enough for you to hear.

"Oh... I guess that explains why if felt like I was going nowhere." You chuckled at your joke and winced when you met Dr. Reid's blank gaze.

"Do you..." He paused.

Spencer shook his head, clearing the thought from his mind. You continued staring but he dropped his gaze back to his shoes as if he hadn't started and dropped a question.

The elevator doors opened, showing an empty garage. The two of you gestured for the other to exit first but you ended up going first.

“Did you want to ask me something. Dr. Reid?" You said, watching him hesitate.

"Spencer." He said, ignoring the question. "My friends call me Spencer."

"I didn't think we were friends yet." You blankly. It wasn't meant to be funny but you couldn't help but smile.

“My team consists of my friends. As you are on my team, we're friends." Spencer's face never changed.

"Okay, Spencer." You looked at him. If you weren't so worried about getting home, you would've indulged in the moment. But all you wanted to do right now was be alone with some pizza and take the edge off from today.

"If that's all..." You tried to close the interaction with him by taking a few steps back but Spencer took just as many slow steps forward.

"Actually," Spencer began, "how do you do it?"

You faked a chuckle. "Do what?"

“Hide your addiction so well." Spencer was so pointblank sometimes.

"What are you talking about?" You tried to control the beads of sweat that threatened to pool.

"Everybody knows.” It's your ankle that started the painkillers and you couldn't stop. It took you away from the pain, the humiliation.

“How could you be so stupid as to get caught? You're even dumber for finding solice in the feeling when you've got all of this support around you? You've got a family who..." Spencer trailed off.

Your head was still reeling from the beginning of his statement. Everyone knew... But how could that be? It wasn't obvious but something was off about the distant look in Spencer's eyes. It was like he wasn't looking or talking to you. The anger laced in his tone wasn't for you...

“Spencer," you took a step towards him, "Are you talking about you?" Spencer stopped talking. You weren't used to seeing him so quiet.

"It's been a while." Spencer looked down at his converse. "Emily was there. When it got bad, I would cuddle up with her cat on her couch and try to forget the thoughts. She wouldn't make me feel like a burden at 2 a.m., when I was screaming myself awake. She always told me to stay as long as I needed, even when I was positive she was fed up with me. I wish I believed her. I wish I stayed." Spencer tapered off into silence, sniffling.

A pipe dripping. Footsteps in the stairwell. A car alarm chirping. All of those things sounded louder than they normally would. This wasn't Spencer cornering you. This was a confused and hurting boy that was begging for help. He just didn't know how to say what he needed right now.

“Do you..." You started but stopped because it didn't feel right.

Where do you start with someone who is just like you: broken, hurting, and alone.

How do you comfort someone without enabling them to do something destructive that might make everything worse?

How do you avoid hurting someone when all you wanted to do was hurt yourself, in a way.

"Do you like pancakes?" You asked, startling him out of his thoughts. "Pancakes? Sure." Spencer slowly lifted his head and shrugged.

You started walking to your car, motioning for Spencer to follow.

The car ride with Spencer was filled with silence. The whole time, you were thinking about ways to explain the situation to Spencer without making it worse. Spencer was trying to decide if talking to you was a good idea after all, considering you were taking him somewhere pancake related.

Pulling up to the run-down diner, you looked over at Spencer, who was staring out the window.

"I promise the pancakes are better than the place looks." You chuckled, getting Spencer's attention.

"I wasn't really worried about the taste of the pancakes..." Spencer trailed off.

"Good, I guess." You said, a little bit defeated.

You and Spencer walked into the diner, where you were greeted by a friendly older woman named Janice. She knew your name by heart, since you were a regular, and she seated you at your normal booth.

"Actually, would you mind seating us at 12? This is Spencer, the guy I've told you about..." You blushed, hoping you said everything low enough for Spencer not to notice. His mind was elsewhere so he wasn't listening as he normally would. A part of you was grateful for that.

Janice did a once-over at Spencer, softly grinning, and brought you to table 12.

Despite the outside looking dingy, the inside of the diner was cleaner than Spencer thought it would be. He wasn't really fond of booths but these weren't the pillow seat booths where children could hide things between the bottom seat and the backrest. This was the plastic seats that hurt your butt after a little while. But what he noticed that was different about the seating at the table was that one half was a booth and the other half consisted of two four-legged chairs.

"I know you don't like the germs in booth seats so I figured this would be a better option." You said, unable to meet his eyes.

Spencer was shocked as you slid into the booth seat, avoiding his eyes. Spencer pulled out his chair, temporarily distracted by the fact that he never mentioned how much he hates booth seats. You paid attention and noticed that about him. What else had you noticed?

"So..." Spencer folded his hands in his lap nervously.

"Let's order and then we'll talk." You said, trying to focus on the task at hand.

Placing your orders, you went with your usual breakfast at midnight and he just ordered the same thing you ordered.

"It'll be good, I promise." You said, giving him a small smile.

"You never answered my question." Spencer said, looking up at you.

"I know." You were getting nervous again. The nerves hadn't stopped since Spencer asked that question in the parking lot but you were trying really hard to find an answer to it.

"How do you do it?" Spencer asked again.

"Spencer, it's not that simple. I can't give you an answer like that over something so complex. Why do you want to know?" You asked, trying to focus on meeting his eyes.

Spencer's gaze was intense when he wanted it to be so you settled for staring at the tip of his nose.

"I'm struggling, y/n. Emily was... She was family to me. If Hotch is the dad, Rossi is the cool uncle, JJ is the mom, Derek is the older brother, and Emily is..." Spencer's voice caught in his throat. "Was the big sister. I lost a sister the day she died and I'm lost without her."

"Spencer, I'm so sorry..." You said, wanting to hug him.

A tear slipped down Spencer's face as you watched him frustratedly wipe it away.

"It's not fair, you know?" Spencer continued. "I survived the worst days of my life. I got to live after experiencing torture and she didn't do anything but fall in love with someone who wasn't..."

There was a moment of silence as you let Spencer get his feelings out. While the two of you said nothing, Janice brought your food and drinks to your table. She must have sensed the tension between you and Spencer because once you thanked her, she didn't hover or make additional conversation.

"It just hurts and I don't... I don't want to feel it. I just want to escape the constant pain and be happy again, just for a little while. It doesn't have to stay forever but I don't want this pain to hurt like this for now." Spencer cut into his pancakes, taking a bite. His face changed into something of contentment.

"I come here when I have a... I guess you could say craving." You started, "Carbs and sugar are good for the itching feeling you get when you really need a fix."

A moment passed as the two of you enjoyed the food in front of you. After downing half of your food, you decided to speak again.

"What's your drug of choice, if you don't mind me asking?" You quietly said, your eyes staying trained on the way your butterknife slowly cut into your pancakes.

"Dilaudid." Spencer was so upfront about it. You thought you would have to pull it out of him but he made your job easier.

"Ah... Opioids are a bitch to kick. Controlled substance so I won't ask how you got it but I understand it's not easy. There was this study we had to do in training. This one agent got captured and tortured and the BAU had to watch as he was drugged, tortured, and almost died... I guess you would know them, right?" You asked, trying to figure out which team member it was.

"That was me." Again, Spencer being upfront.

"Oh...Spencer, I'm so sorry... I didn't know." You were remorseful, you shouldn't have brought it up.

"That's where it began. I begged for him not to do it the first time, not wanting the drugs. But after that? After the torture and pain and... Everything? I craved that release. And even after he died, I just wanted to get away from all of the stress in life. Feel warmth in my veins, mentally zoning out for just long enough to reset my mind and be reminded that there was something good in the world..." Spencer looked over your shoulder but his eyes weren't fixed on a particular spot.

That's the thing about being an addict... You don't realize how much it hurts to be alive until the high sends you crashing back down. And, especially in our line of work, all you want is to stay up for as long as possible because the horrors of reality will tear you apart..." You finished.

Spencer's attention came back to you as you spoke, making you a little uncomfortable. You couldn't meet his eyes.

"I went to a couple meetings in the past." Spencer said, thinking about his experiences there. "I didn't feel like I belonged. I have a good life. Stable job. I'm fortunate enough to have a roof over my head. My mom is taken care of by capable people. I don't have to worry about anything. And the guys there? They're struggling in many cases. They're fighting for the things I take for granted and I didn't know how I could stand to be in the same room with my privileges and pretend like my problem was important..." Spencer trailed off.

"Spencer, your addiction is valid." You were finally able to look him in the eyes and emphasize your point.

"Is it, though?" Spencer stared back at you, a challenging tone laced his voice.

"It's not fun..." You started, unable to look at Spencer any longer. "I don't do it for fun or because I want to stay high. I don't do it for the feeling it gives me. I do it because I feel like I have to."

"What do you mean?" Spencer tilted his head like a puppy who was trying to understand a new word.

"After I broke my ankle, I was prescribed these... Off brand pills. They didn't really help unless I snorted them. And even then, they didn't help my ankle or me. So I found something stronger. A friend of mine is a doctor and when I go to see him, I'm able to... I guess manipulate him into giving me the good stuff, the stuff that makes my thoughts slow down, calms the voice, gives me a sense of peace and not this constant anxiety." You said, hands tapping the table.

"Oh..." Spencer said, taking in what you were saying.

"I'm an addict not for pleasure but for pain. And my struggle is no greater or lesser than yours." You said, fingers still tapping away. "I struggle, like you, except the difference is I'm newer to the team so they don't know what it's like to see me in my chaotic neutral state. What did you do when you had cravings before? You must have been clean for a couple years now, right?"

"I went to Emily... I always went to Emily. I play back these moments when I snapped at her for wanting to help and I wish I just..." Once again, Spencer's voice was caught in his throat.

"She was your safe space when you felt like you couldn't turn to anyone else." You said, understanding. "You don't have to be romantically inclined to have a safe space with someone. It's whomever you find solace in, for any reason under and over the sun."

"I wouldn't feel this way if she were here..." Spencer said, more to himself as if he were trying to be convincing.

"Spencer, you have to be honest with yourself. If it wasn't this, it would be something else. And that something else might not have landed you with someone who was willing to assist you in your recovery to stay clean." You said, finishing your pancakes.

"What?" Spencer did a double take. No one had ever offered to help him. He always had to be the first to make the move but even then, everyone was reluctant to take on the responsibility of Spencer.

"Isn't there an unspoken rule about addicts not being with each other?" Spencer asked, genuinely concerned.

He hoped not because he would love to have someone he could finally confide in, someone who wouldn't make him feel like a burden.

"No, that's about addicts not dating each other. But I think that as friends, we can understand each other in ways others cant. We can fight together. Have you notiiced the craving is gone, for the most part?" You asked, sure that Spencers single slice would be gone in a moment.

"Okay. Deal. We can confide in one another and maybe it'll help us get a grip on reality when we feel ourselves slipping.”

“Okay.”

—

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