#it has knocked countless things off of my counters

[inwayovermyhead]

TIL: electronics are like cats, they're both dramatic little divas who will throw hissy fits just because they feel like it

[meetingthemastermoments]

Part 2

jake x reader

Part 3

warnings: tension, angst, fluff, slow burn, eventual 18+

word count: 2.5K

summary: You move into a new apartment, with an unexpectedly attractive neighbor.

notes: Okie dokie, here's part 2. This was obviously an idea I had a couple of weeks ago, but life has been fun and chaotic, so here it is now! All my Love, MM

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It’s the 4th of July, which means you have the day off to do literally whatever you want. You lay in bed, eyes still closed, listening to the birds outside your window. You can see the sunlight through your eyelids, filtered in from the blinds. It’s still early, which hopefully means the beach won’t be too busy. You had just gotten a new swimsuit that you were very excited to try out, but the idea of going to the beach alone freaked you out a little. It has been a couple of weeks now since you moved. You have some friends in the area but they’re mostly busy, so you’re stuck with a dilemma. You can either go to the beach alone and deal with the countless friend groups and families laughing and having fun together or… you can see if Jake wants to come. 

It had been a couple of days since you ran into each other in the basement. You two had been living your separate lives. You heard when he was home, walking around his floor, playing his guitar, watching tv, hanging out with his friends, as you’re sure he heard you. The comfort of knowing someone else was in the house made living on your own easier, even if it was on a different floor. Maybe this can be your chance to get to know him better. Maybe even become friends. A new friend, now that would be nice.  

You stretch your arms above your head and hoist yourself out of bed. This’ll be a fun day no matter what. You grab your phone on the way to the kitchen and text Jake.

Y/N: Hey, any fun 4th of July plans?

You continue on with your morning routine, making breakfast and starting to pack some essentials for your day at the beach. Drinks, snacks, sunscreen. You hear Jake strumming his guitar lazily as you move about your apartment, stopping momentarily. Your phone buzzes on the counter. 

Jake: Not at the moment. What’s up?

Y/N: Want to go to the beach?

Jake: What time??

Y/N: Like, 20 minutes? Come on up when you’re ready.

Jake: Awesome.

Well, that was easy. You had assumed Jake would have other plans. He always seemed to have a stream of people coming in and out of his apartment. You’re surprised he answered at all, let alone said he would come! This’ll be fun. You go to change into your swimsuit, throwing loose-fitting clothes on overtop. As you slide into your sandals and pack your book into your beach bag, you heard a knock on your back door. 

You casually walk over, opening the door for your neighbor. In front of you stood Jake wearing a fun American flag sailor cap, a short sleeve button-down shirt that was mostly open except for the bottom two buttons, pattern swim trunks, and old birks. You just stood there for a second, taking him in. 

“Hey,” He gave you a smile, “Is the hat too much?” Looking slightly out of place, he fidgets with the guitar on his back and tugs at the cap on his head. 

“No! It’s hilarious! Come on in, I’m just finishing up,” Jake follows you into your kitchen, watching you grab the rest of your things and finish packing up your cooler. Going into the fridge you feel Jake watching you as you reach for the drinks. You turn to put them into the cooler and make eye contact. He averts his eyes, pretending to be scanning the kitchen.

“I brought a couple of snacks and drinks, if you have any more room in there,” Jake comes up next to you, throwing his backpack on the counter. 

“Ya, of course. There’s still room,” You agree as he pulls out a couple of White Claws, a pack of gummy worms, and a bag of chips. He reaches across you to fit it in the cooler along with your things. The air feels thick, but you must be imagining it. 

“Okie dokie! Let’s hit the road!” He smiles, picking up the cooler before you can protest and walks towards the front door. You stand there for a second watching him walk out of your apartment. You shake your head a bit to clear it. Friends. You’re trying to make friends. 

…

As you drive to the beach, Jake gleefully chats with you. You laugh and smile along as he tells you all about his brothers and the little band they’ve started together. You learn he has an older twin named Josh and a younger brother named Sam. The fourth member of the band is their friend, Daniel. Jake says he is just like a little brother and they all always hang out together. Those must have been the people you see coming in and out all the time. 

“Okay so wait!” You laugh, wiping a tear from your eye, “You’re telling me he ‘fell’ through the screen door because you quote ‘bumped him too hard’? YA, very likely!” 

Jake is smiling from ear to ear, “No, I swear to god! It was fully his fault. I would NEVER do something like that!” He watches your reaction as you continue to wipe your tears. 

“You two sound like a handful!” Your eyes are on the road, but you can feel him smiling at you. You wonder what it would feel like to have his eyes on you like that all the time. Nope! Friends y/n, friends!

…

You two get to the beach a little after 9. There are still a number of spots in the parking lot left, but you can see that it’s going to be a busy day. You unload the car, grab all your bags and towels, and proceed to trudge out onto the sand. 

The water on the lake is beautiful today. A lovely deep blue. The air is hot and muggy but has a slight breeze, which cuts through the heat every so often. Families and friends play in the waves and chatter around you. Jake finds you a perfect spot to sit, a little further off from the crowd. He unfurls the blanket he’s brought and you watch as his exposed chest moves under his open button-up. How can he look so soft and so sculpted at the same time? He makes eye contact with you cocking an eyebrow and giving you a half smirk. You look down cheeks turning red, as you continue to unpack your bag, grabbing your book and sunscreen. 

 Jake plops down next to you on the blanket, swinging his guitar off his back. You start to apply your sunscreen. Jake watches, eyebrows knitted together in thought. As you continue to apply sunscreen to your arms and legs, Jake picks up the bottle and squeezes some into his hand. “May I?” He asks as he gestures to your back, looking slightly sheepish. 

“Sure, thank you” You agree shyly as he shifts so he’s sitting slightly behind you. The first touch of his hands makes you jump.

“Sorry! It’s a little cold” He grimaces, as he starts to rub the lotion into your back. 

You focus on your breathing as he continues to cover your back. The calluses on his fingers, the smoothness of his palm, how gentle he’s being. Jesus Christ, knock it off! You’re trying to be making friends here, thinking like that won’t get you anywhere. You look out across the water as he travels lower down your back, freezing as he moves your straps, so as to not miss any spots. 

“Ta-da!” Jake exclaims, patting your shoulders platonically, before moving back to his spot next to you. He wipes the rest of the sunscreen on his chest and arms before grabbing for his guitar. 

“Thanks” You smile over at him. He looks proud of himself as he pulls his guitar over his lap and starts to strum. You Grab your book and flip onto your stomach, enjoying the soft strumming of Jake's guitar and listening to the waves and the birds. 

An hour or so passes as Jake continues to play lazily and you finish the chapter you’re on. You look over, watching his face. His eyes were slightly unfocused, gazing at some unknown location far off in the distance. His mouth was turned up in a lazy smile. His shirt was now fully off, and as your eyes scan down his body you start to notice more of his figure. He is built in a relaxed way. You can tell he’s strong. His arms are defined and his muscles flex along with his playing. He barely bobs his head to the beat of his unknown tune. You clear your throat quietly and his eyes shoot to yours, his smile growing as he sees you already watching him.

“What’s up?” He asks never stopping his tune.  

“You’re pretty good. Has anyone ever told you that?” You’re being genuine. You don’t think you’ve heard anyone so flawlessly continue a melody.

Jake blushes, momentarily tripping up his melody. “Thank you. I’ve been playing for a little while now.” He smirks a little but doesn’t keep eye contact.

“Oh ya? For how long?” 

“I mean since I can remember. My family is big into music. My dad has a band, so my brothers and I started one back in high school.” He looks a little nervous as he tells you that last part. “We actually play at some dive bars around town, if you ever want to swing by.”

“I would love to!” You give him a reassuring smile. You’re intrigued by the type of music his band might play. Based on the melodies he’s been playing around you, you’re assuming some type of folk or jazz music. 

Jake looks over at you excitedly, “Really?! We have a show again this weekend in the flats if you want to swing by!” He’s practically bouncing in his seat next to you. 

“Yes! I’ll be there. Just tell me the time and I’ll head over!” You laugh at him as his smile widens. You’re sure if he smiled any harder he’d start shining. 

…

After a couple of hours, you and Jake are laughing and chatting like old friends. You learn that he loves pirates and has a passion for film, which he shares with his brother. He learns that you are also from Michigan, and your extended relatives live around where he’s from. “That’s so fucking cool! I wonder why we never saw each other growing up!” 

“I don’t know. I mean, I’d only be there for holidays and a couple of weeks during the summer. I’m sure we saw each other but didn’t know it!” You’re sure he must have been visiting his own family and doing fun things away from Frankenmuth any chance he got. But, you know a large reason he probably never saw you was because you were shy. You always locked yourself up on your grandparent's property, playing on the quads, exploring the woods, and watching movies with your cousins. You rarely went into town, and if you did it was only to go to the waterpark at Zehnder’s or to one of the bowling alleys nearby. 

As the sun dips down in the sky, you collectively decide you’ve probably had enough sun for today. You pack up your things and walk back to the car, tired from the sun and happy from the great day. As you drive home Jake grabs the aux and starts playing you songs he thinks you would enjoy, explaining each ones meaning. Testing the water to see what you like a don’t like. You make it back to the house and unpack your things,

“Thanks for hanging out today Jake, I had a really good time.” You smile brightly as you walk towards the house. 

“Of course! Me too,” Jake pauses “Would you… would you want to play a game or something? We can just keep hangin out until the fireworks this evening.” He looks at you nervously.

“I would love to! I just assumed you had other people to go with.” You look a little confused but you’re happy for the extended company. The idea of chilling with Jake for the rest of the evening is nice. You are a little tired though. “Cool, well I’m going to take a shower real quick, but you can come on up whenever you’re ready. I have some board games in the living room that you are more than welcome to look through while I get cleaned up.”

“Sounds good! I was gonna jump in the shower quick too, so you have some time.” Jake gives you a little eyebrow wiggle before heading to his door. 

…

Jake POV

Here’s the thing. Jake did have plans today. He was actually waiting for Josh to pick him up. But, when his cute new neighbor sent him a text asking if he was busy, he immediately said yes. After their first interaction in the basement, Jake had been itching to figure out some way, any way, to get to know you better. He had been coming home early to try and catch you as you were getting your mail. He purposefully told you to only use one set of garbage cans (he claimed it was for convenience) but he hoped he would run into you while you were bringing your trash down. 

The entire day Jake had been sneaking glances at you, watching your quirks and mannerisms. How you scrunched up your nose when you got to a part in your book you didn’t like. How you methodically reapplied your sunscreen. Every time he saw you catch him staring he would look out into the horizon, pretending to be somewhere else, but he was thinking of you. He took every opportunity to make you laugh. He had never heard such a beautiful sound. If he could bottle it up and keep it forever he would. 

The drive back home had been torture. The car had been filled with your scent, increased tenfold by the smell of lake, sunscreen, and heat that radiated off of you. You had loved every song he had played for you, becoming more animated at the songs you had known and getting excited at new songs he was helping you discover. How could he not want to hang out more with someone who had a fantastic ear? As you two reached the house, he had become more and more anxious as he realized the day was ending, so he said something not even he was prepared for. He asked you to continue hanging out. And when you said yes, he was more than excited. 

Jake didn’t want to admit it to himself, but he had taken a special interest in you. The house was old and had its quirks, but that meant that he could also hear a lot more than normal. Every so often he could hear you humming or singing to yourself while you made dinner. Sometimes he could hear you loudly laugh at a show you were watching. And once or twice he had heard other things… Jake was just happy to have an excuse to spend time with you today. And now! Now. All he could think about was you showering right above him. 

[delopsia]

The first thing you and Bob learn about Rhett is that he's a fancy dress and a fairy Godmother away from being a damn Disney Princess.

And the night that you met him and Bob was your first warning sign.

The three of you were curled into the back of his truck, sipping on drinks and fighting through a bout of uncomfortable silence, when all of a sudden, a bird landed on Rhett's boot. A little house finch, eyeing up the handful of sunflower seeds in his hand.

And out went Rhett's big hand, dirty palm full of more seeds than that little finch could possibly need. "D'ya think I can convince 'em to come home with me?"

Your head cocked to the side as you watched the bird hop right into his hand. Fearless. "That might cost you a lot of seeds."

"Are birds your favorite animal?" Bob had hummed. Some deep rumbling of words that had no right to sound as wonderful as they did.

"Nah," Rhett's head shook a little too fast, sending the bird fleeing to the safety of the roof of his truck. "don't think I got a favorite, actually."

For the longest time, you couldn't wrap your mind around why that was.

He's late to your second date because he's chased a stray kitten up a tree. Walks in the front door with his hair sticking out in every direction; doesn't realize that he's lost his hat because he's too busy apologizing for being so late. Midway through your meal, a little orange head pops out the neck of his shirt, defiantly yelling for a bite of Bob's raisin bread.

And that is how you meet Raisin.

Short for Raisin' Hell.

Raisin' Hell gets up on the kitchen counter two nights later and knocks several of Cecelia's beloved fine china onto the floor.

You'll never forget how Cecelia's voice traveled through the phone. "If y'dont get rid of that damn cat, then I will!"

Fortunately, Bob's friend Natasha is so enthralled with the story that she makes a pitstop in Wyoming to pick up the little ball of fluff. Justifying the adoption with a, "What can I say? The kitten has good taste!"

Coincidentally, a week later, Bob mentions his buddy Jake sneezing and complaining of a cat allegery.

Then, one day, Rhett drops off the face of the Earth shortly after telling you that he's heading to a livestock auction. You and Bob already know that he's out to fetch a pair of donkeys because they've recently developed a hell of a coyote problem. Yet, you're already making bets on what extra animal is going to come with the donkeys.

He wakes you both up the next morning, begging you to join the video call the second you get the chance.

"Look!" Giddy, as he triumphantly points to the little figure in the pasture, "I found a mini version of my horse!"

And it's a little black Shetland pony, a senior who has been retired to the pasture life. Affectionately named Fred by the previous owner. He came as a package deal with two donkeys, Zig and Zag. Royal is livid about the extra mouth to feed, but Amy is already attached.

Fred lives a good two years out in the pasture before old age takes him on a cozy autumn afternoon. He's buried out by an Oak tree in the South pasture, and a lock of his mane forever rests in Rhett's old wooden chest. Right next to the urn of a childhood dog named Rascal and the manes of his first two horses, Winnie and Coal.

Rhett's buddy Archie wakes you with a text one summer night, demanding that you get a handle on your cowboy. And you don't know why until Bob calls later that morning, asking if you've heard about the turkey.

How Rhett got shitfaced and acquired a whole, live turkey is anyone's guess.

Teddy the Turkey doesn't ever really leave the ranch. Maybe out of fear of Thanksgiving, being wrangled by another drunk cowboy, or just plain acceptance of his situation. Hell, it could be all of the above.

It must be a drunk thing because Cecelia tells you that he's come home with all sorts of things, from a family of bunnies to countless opossums. Every dog on the ranch has made its way there due to Rhett.

Then comes the move, and for the longest time, you expect for Rhett to come in with an armload of puppies and kittens. If he's even so much as a minute late, you're suspicious until he rolls in the front door, certain that some little critter is going to be in tow.

But he doesn't bring home a damn thing.

One afternoon, your phone lights up with a black-and-white photo. An ultrasound of...something.

Bob's name flashes across the screen next. Who's ultrasound pictures did you steal?

Then comes Rhett one more time. Someone's gelding wasn't a fucking gelding.

Rhett's mare being pregnant was not on anyone's bucket list for the year. But he loves that horse to absolute pieces, and it comes as no surprise that he's already looking forward to having a second pair of legs running around.

Archie offers to buy the little foal off of him.

Rhett almost eats him alive.

You suppose you shouldn't be surprised about that, either.

The vet says that Isabela can be ridden for a few more months, but Rhett's so concerned about accidentally hurting her and her baby that rides stop the same day. For the foreseeable future, Isabela's adventures are limited to long walks through the trails on the ranch he works on.

But having his only horse out of commission means that Rhett's cowboy career just got a little tougher.

Enter Sparrow, a bay quarter horse whom Rhett leases from a friend.

At least he leases Sparrow for the first month and then decides that Sparrow is the new member of the family. Which works out better than planned because on the months that he's off from a deployment, Bob loves to spend Sunday afternoons taking Sparrow out on trail rides.

Maeve is born a little under nine and a half months later. A black filly with a white blaze running down her forehead and an attitude bigger than she is. From the moment she's up on her feet, she's trying to buck and kick Bob, furious that he's trying to scratch her little hip. It'll be a few years before she can be ridden, but you already know that Rhett will have his hands full.

Maeve gets everything. Blankets, custom halters, handmade treats, morning and afternoon pets, hell, Rhett even figures out Instagram for her. You name it, she gets it. And not only is she the diva of the town, but when she gets older, she's one of the best horses in the area.

Never quite loses the attitude, though.

The first spring after Bob officially leaves the Navy, he decides to get chickens. Builds the coop himself and all. It's been on his bucket list for the better half of a decade now, and he's finally got the time to take care of them. He buys four Buff Orpingtons, but the girl at the feed store must have gotten confused because he comes home to find that he has three Orpingtons and a Silkie.

He goes back to get an extra Silkie so that the little dude doesn't feel like an outcast.

Rhett hates them.

"All those fuckers do is peck the shit outta me!"

"Because they're chickens, Rhett! They're gonna peck things!"

You fully expect him to come around and warm up to them eventually, but it never happens. A year passes, and Rhett's still side-eyeing the collection of poultry on the side of the house. Entering the coop only when you politely ask him to fetch you a few eggs, and even then, he furrows his eyebrows and grumbles beneath his breath.

Then there's one afternoon when Bob comes home from a meeting to a suspicious bowl on the counter.

A chirping bowl.

A bowl of newly hatched button quail.

"Yeah, I stuck 'em in there 'till I could find a place to put 'em," Rhett says when he meanders back into the kitchen, slightly larger box in hand.

You're the next to stumble into this situation, sleepy-eyed and rubbing at your cheek, halfway down the stairs. Aren't quite sure what is going on; all you know is that you've walked into a standoff, and something is wandering around by the sofa.

Something yellow.

A...tiny chicken?

Even as you scoop it up, it doesn't seem real. So incredibly small that it's closer to a toy than a living, breathing animal.

"What's this?" You yawn, holding your hand out, tiny bird on full display.

Little do you know, in your halfawake state, that some new members have joined your busy little family. Even if those family members were found at a gas station for twenty-five cents per dozen.

The coffee maker has just finished bubbling when it hits you.

Rhett doesn't have a favorite animal because every animal is his favorite animal, and he wants to take them all home with him.

Except for chickens. 

[kazcreates]

Simple Solutions

Summary: A glimpse into a soft morning in the Rietveld-Fahey-Ghafa household, and a show of how partners complete each other.

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54864406

“Damn it!” Kaz shouted, loud enough to startle his partners who were lounging in the living room. 

Before Jesper and Wylan could challenge each other to Rock, Paper, Scissors to decide who was to get up, Inej slipped from the nest of blankets that she and her partners had bundled together on the couch. Her feather-light footsteps made no sound, and yet she knew Kaz could sense her presence as she slipped into the kitchen.

He was leaning over the counter, propped up on his elbows, his face in his hands. She worried for a moment that he might have hurt himself, then she saw it.

Small droplets of waffle batter surrounded the large red bowl that Kaz had been using to mix it all up in. Inside said bowl, half-submerged in sticky batter, were Kaz’s glasses.

His eyesight had been getting worse over the years, too many knocks to the head during countless brawls and jobs gone sideways. It had taken quite a bit of convincing before they finally got him to visit the optometrist and had gone home with a pair of corrective lenses set in thin black frames.

“Damned things keep falling off and now look,” Kaz grumbled, rubbing his face roughly with the palms of his hands. He glared at the batter-caked glasses as Inej plucked them out of the bowl. One of the most feared men in half the countries in the world, at war with a pair of spectacles.

Inej couldn’t fight the smile that pulled at her lips. 

“Don’t laugh,” Kaz whined, burying his face in his hands again. There was no commanding in his voice, this wasn’t the feared Dirtyhands giving an order. This was an embarrassed Kaz Rietveld begging his wife not to make fun of him. “It’s bad enough that we missed Jesper’s birthday because of my surgery. I just wanted to make a nice breakfast for all of us.”

“Breakfast isn’t ruined, you know,” Inej chided him gently. She reached for the towel which hung on the stove handle, and dampened it beneath the faucet.

“And if I may, it’s not your fault we missed my birthday. I have the memory of a goldfish,” Jesper piped up, moving from the doorway and moving up behind Kaz, snaking his arms around his waist. “I’m not holding it against any of you. Especially not you. You needed that surgery.”

“My leg has been messed up for 13 years, it could’ve waited another day,” Kaz said, his voice low and gravelly with contentment, as Jesper nuzzled his head into Kaz’s shoulder.

“Speaking of which, have you had your medication?” Wylan called from the living room.

“If you’re going to eavesdrop, my dear merchling, you may as well join us!” Jesper called back, clasping a hand over Kaz’s ear as not to yell directly into it. 

“If you insist,” Wylan sighed dramatically, sweeping into the kitchen with a blanket wrapped snugly around his shoulders. He’d picked up on Jesper’s theatrics over the years.

“How is your leg doing, Kaz?” Inej asked, giving the glasses a final wipe with the rag. 

“It doesn’t hurt so bad this morning. In fact, I think this is the best it’s felt in months,” Kaz admitted, melting a little as Jesper pressed kisses to the side of his neck.

“I’m glad,” Wylan said, folding his blanket over the back of one of the chairs at the dining table. He rolled up his sleeves and went about finishing the breakfast that Kaz had started, hushing him when he began to protest.

“You should probably get off your feet either way, darling,” Jesper said, and, without warning, swept Kaz off of his feet, narrowing avoiding knocking into Inej. 

Kaz rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything more. He was getting better at allowing himself to be taken care of. And with all of the progress that he’d made in touch over the past decade, he had no objections with being as close to his partners as he could get.

Jesper set him down carefully in one of the dining chairs, and then stepped back, like an artist admiring his work. “Hmm… something’s missing,” he said, tapping a finger against his chin. “Ah! Inej, give me those glasses.”

Inej handed over the freshly cleaned glasses.

Jesper took them carefully, and placed his hands over the hinges. The screws tightened, making the arms more rigid. Then he ran his hands along the plastic, molding it beneath his fingers. When he was finished, he set them gently against Kaz’s nose, tucking the arms over his ears. 

“There. Perfection,” Jesper grinned, placing a kiss against Kaz’s forehead, before ruffling his hair just to annoy him.

“It’s getting long,” Inej noted, twirling a strand of Kaz’s hair so that it stood almost directly up on his head. 

He pressed it back down against his head. She was right though. The sides had grown out enough to curl around his ears, and the top was long enough to fall into his eyes if he didn’t brush it back. He hadn’t ever let it get this long since he was a child.

“You’re starting to look like a farm boy again,” Jesper teased. “It’s a good look on you.”

Kaz shook his head, but he was smiling.

These were the moments that had made ever moment of pain and agony worth it. Healing had been a hell of a process, and he wasn’t near finished with it. But he’s grown a lot since he was seventeen. He hoped to grow some more, with his Crows right by his side. 

Wylan set the first plate of waffles down on the table in front of him. 

“Candles?” Kaz asked, trying to focus on speech as Inej braided the longer strands of his hair. 

“Gasp, birthday waffles? You shouldn’t have,” Jesper again with the theatrics. He fetched the candles from a drawer and placed them into the fluffy center of the stack of waffles.

An off-key rendition of happy birthday began and ended in a fit of laughter. 

The Rietveld home full of love and life once again.

[yeoyeos]

His stage [C.J.H.] smut

warnings:masturbation,vibrator is used,f!reader,oral m!receiving,oral f!receiving,name calling[slut,baby,daddy,toy,sir,cub,darling,sugar],breeding is mentioned,handcuffs,he uses a paddle with his name on it,overstimulation,impact play,dacryphilia

lmk if i missed anything

a/n: this was supposed to be a short drabble inspired by this but i kinda got carried away💀[4.6k words]

･ﾟ✧ﾟ･･ﾟ✦ﾟ･･ﾟ✧ﾟ･･ﾟ✦ﾟ･･ﾟ✧ﾟ･･ﾟ✦ﾟ･･ﾟ✧ﾟ･･ﾟ✦ﾟ･･ﾟ✧ﾟ･･ﾟ✦ﾟ･･ﾟ✧ﾟ･･ﾟ✦ﾟ･･ﾟ✧ﾟ･･ﾟ✦ﾟ･

you sat in awe as you observed your boyfriend, you would usually sit there calmly and watch him but this time was slightly different, his stage presence drastically different from his usual personality

jongho was naturally the sweetest, most kind person you knew, always smiling and cheery and so so funny, but this new jongho was someone completely different. he had a smouldering look on his face and even through all the clothes you could see his muscles tensing. his hair was barely moving giving you a full view of his face and forehead shining in a layer of sweat. he glowed bright through the darkness on that stage

the music made him an entirely different person who you know can rail you into next week friday. he looked so dominant, and you didn't miss him glancing at you while sticking his tongue out. your thighs rubbed together as you thought of the countless things he could do to you with that talented tongue of his

by the time they were almost done with their performance you'd already run off to the bathroom to relieve yourself of the wetness between your legs. the bathroom is close to their dressing room at the end of the hallway so no one ever really goes there, perfect place for you to do what you needed to do and (hopefully) get back before jongho finds you

jongho has a strict rule about you not touching yourself without his permission but sometimes you don't follow it, and this is one of those times. he's just too hot there's no way you can wait!!

you ran into the bathroom and locked the door, not giving a fuck if anyone wanted in, you checked all the stalls to make sure they were empty before hiking a leg up on the bathroom counter. quickly, your hand reached into your pants, rubbing your clit over your underwear adding just enough pressure to have you soaked, knowing that that's what jongho would do

feeling the wet patch on your underwear turned you on even more, thinking about all the dirty words jongho would whisper to you about being so needy and how sexy he looked on stage, you couldn't take it anymore. you pulled your pants and underwear off and slipped a finger inside yourself, the moan and let out at finally being slightly full was embarrassing but you couldn't bring yourself to stop them. you thrusted them in and out until you felt yourself about to cum

it's so so so close you can feel it, your back arched off the wall you leaned against as you were about to cum but harsh knocking on the metal door next to you scared you out of it, the mourning of your orgasm was short lived when you heard talking from the other side of the door "baby are you in there?"

s h i t

you panicked, trying to compile yourself as best as you could before opening the door. "heyyyyy jjongie" fuck, even your greeting sounded suspicious. he looked at you up and down sceptically, "are you okay baby? i was looking for you when i got off stage but couldn't find you, didn't you pee before we went on? why are you here?" the sudden interrogation caught you off guard, making it a true struggle to come up with a good answer. as you were about about come up with some bullshit reason he stopped you in your tracks

"you know, i couldn't belive it when i heard moaning coming from the other side of this door, no less that it was locked-" you froze, 'fuck' you thought to yourself, you knew you should've tried to conceal your moans

"it's weird because barely anyone comes to this side of the building when we're here, so i wondered who those moans could belong to, certainly not my girlfriend who disappeared suddenly...right?" he walked in slowly, closing and locking the door behind him and backing you up onto the bathroom counter

"but surprise surprise, i knock, and guess who answers?" he pauses to wrap his hand around your neck, adding a slight pressure that was enough to make you soaked, "my sluttly little girlfriend who apparently couldn't wait until i was done performing to relieve herself" he turned you around to face the mirror

there both of you stood. one of his hands around your neck and the other pulling your pants down, he hiked your left leg up on the counter and moved his hands across the inside of your thighs, pinching and slapping them ever so often while leaving hickeys on your neck. you felt so needy, you just needed to be touched by him, and he sensed it.

he pushed your hip toward the edge of the counter top and stopped his kisses right below your ear to whisper, "hump it" . the demand caught you by surprise but you obeyed nonetheless, you slowly began grinding your panty-clad cunt against the edge of the bathroom sink. it felt better than you thought it would so you slowly you picked up pace, leaning onto jongho for support and grabbing the long coat he wore

"you touched yourself because of my performance, didn't you pretty one?" you nodded, not being able to respond when you were so close to achieving our high. "saw me doing my thing and thought of me fucking you like that?" your moans resonated in the bathroom as you almost lost it due to his words

you looked at him through the mirror and his face was completely emotionless, he just looked at you with that stern look he displays while performing which managed to turn you on more. you arched your back, rubbing yourself against the hard edge with much more vigour until you were pulled away.

you were extremely frustrated by that but you didn't let it show, in fear that your punishment would get worse. he pulled out of his pocket the small silver vibrator that you bought no less than 2 weeks ago. "you will put this inside you and wait until i'm done changing to take it out. i control the settings and no matter what you will not cum do you understand?" you slowly nodded, not being able to process the more-dominant-than-usual jongho in front of you. he raised his eyebrow at your response and you quickly caught on to what he wanted

"yes sir, i understand" he smiled softly and kissed your cheek, right before slipping it inside you, the stretch felt so good, much better than your fingers but not better than jongho's either. he pulled out his phone from his other pocket and moments later you felt a small vibration which caught you off guard. jongho chuckled lightly at the soft moan you let out due to suddenness of the vibration

"remember darling, no noises either" he said as he kissed your cheek lightly and made his way to the door. you pulled your pants up, unlocked the door and walked out the bathroom first.

as you walked in front of him down the barren hallway, you wondered how the fuck you were doing to conceal the fact that there's a vibrator in your pussy who's vibration could spring up in power at any moment

you sat on the couch while jongho went into one of the private dressing rooms to change. usually while he does this, one of the boys would gold a conversation with you until it's time to leave, but you didn't want to risk being caught so you lay down on the couch and tried to pretend like you were sleeping.

it was an awful attempt because you're squirming like you needed to pee, but no one bothered you for the excruciatingly long 5 minutes it took for jongho to change his clothes. when you heard the door to the dressing room open you 'woke up' and looked at your boyfriend

jongho came out in a white tee and black jean shorts, and it amazed you that no matter what he wore he always managed to look stunning. he walked toward you, bags in hand, as everyone was prepared to leave but jongho told them he'd be a minute so they all waited for us outside.

as soon as everyone left, you finally relaxed and let out a heavy moan that you've been holding in the entire time. jongho took this opportunity to pull your pants and underwear off and take the vibrator out. you sighed in relief as you wouldn't be forced to hold in your orgasm anymore

he licked all your juices off the vibrator and hummed contently. he then kneeled down to lick your clit and pussy that was covered in your glistening slick. your head fell back in pleasure as jongho skillfully licked you clean, it wasn't enough to make you cum but it was stimulation and you would happily take anything jongho provided.

it felt so good, you started grinding yourself on his face, being greedy with your new found pleasure. but that was a clear mistake because he immediately stopped, "bad girl" he uttered and you opted to not make any noise of disappointment in case that was added to the list of things you did wrong today.

jongho pulled your pants and panties up and grabbed both of your bags, "come on precious, the others are waiting for us" you wished you could disobey but those sweet names he called you kept you submissive for him. you nodded and followed him to the exit where the others were standing

as we approached, the sound of heavy rainfall got louder and louder. "we're waiting on manager-nim to drive by-" "we're gonna run in one by one", wooyoung started and hongjoong finished. 'oh great, another thing standing in the way of getting the best dick down of my life' you thought to yourself tapping your foot on the ground impatiently.

while looking outside at the pouring rain you felt jongho's hand grab your ass "hope you're ready for the bumpy ride" he spoke quietly in your ears. confusion struck your features as you looked at him inquisitively, but he was already looking away. you were in deep thought about what he could have meant until you saw the black van approach the exit to the building

'there's no room' you thought, there's not enough room for all of you to fit, most of the boys had to squish to fit in their van, which meant you had to sit on jongho's lap. millions of thoughts of what he was going to do in there swarmed and took over your entire mind. 'maybe he'd fuck you! no he'd never do that, maybe he'd put the vibrator in you! but then why would he take it out?'

all sort of scenarios found their way in your imagination, separating you from reality. you were finally pulled back by jongho telling you that it's your turn to run through the pouring rainfall

you ran slightly behind jongho, knowing you'd have to go in after him anyway. once inside and bags stored under the seat, their manager started driving to each member's destination. it was friday which meant jongho was coming to your house for the weekend. so you'd both be the first ones to get dropped off. thankfully, because you weren't sure how much longer you could wait

you look out the window to stare at the rain so you can distract yourself, feeling the slight calmness you always felt when rain fell, despite the uncomfortable feeling of the stickiness in your underwear. and now that you thought about it, you became hyper aware of it. the uncomfortable feeling led you to stir around in jongho's lap a little bit. not thinking anything of it until his hand held onto your waist tightly.

you felt yourself automatically straighten your back as he touched you low down on your waist. his hands kept travelling lower and lower until he got to the hem of your pants where his hands planted themselves for a good couple of seconds.

you barely even registered the the fact jongho slipped his hands past your pants and underwear until you felt him rub your clit in soft, slow, circles

you struggled to keep your composure as jongho increased his speed more and more with every passing second. you were squirming on top of him in a very obvious way but you were hoping that no one saw, your destination was only 3 more minutes away so you just had to hold off until then

hongjoong sat next to you fast asleep so at least he won't notice if your squirming, but everyone else might. not only because you're at the front but because you're really struggling to hold back your moans

slowly but surely your resolve was breaking, but what assured your demise were the words that jongho uttered. "don't cum or else i will break you" and that was the end of your survival. you managed to not let a peep escape but your back slightly arched as you came for the first time that night. it felt so good but you knew jongho felt your cum flood his hand

before he could say anything their manager spoke up, "we're here" you looked up as if you got caught and jongho didn't even bother to move his hand. you were sure that he saw what you two were doing but you ignored that and thanked him while rushing to get out of the van

you said your goodbyes to the rest of the boys, took your bags and walked out the van, forcefully making jongho's hand leave your soaked cunt. the rain calmed down for the time being so you took the opportunity to walk briskly to the door. not waiting for jongho to appear behind you, you swiftly unlocked your front door and ran inside, resting your bags in whichever place you found first

soon he accompanied you inside putting his bags next to yours while you stood there, waiting for him to slam you on the wall or tell you to strip immediately but...nothing

he put all the bags down and walked to the bathroom in silence. complete silence. and that wasn't a good sign. jongho only went silent on you once and you were VERY sore the next day

you went to the bedroom and sat on the bed. waiting for your cue, you knew you'd get it soon.

"y/n!" you heard coming from the direction of the bathroom, that was your cue so you got up and walked straight to the bathroom, peeping your head inside. the shower was already on and he was already in. "yes jongho?" your voice sounded obviously shaky but you ignored that

"undress and come in"

without hesitation, you took all your clothes off and stepped into the shower with jongho. you looked up at him, towering over you with lust clouding his eyes and for the first time that night he kissed you

it felt like pure bliss

you held onto his shoulders and he let you, so you deepened the kiss. he wrapped his arms around you and pressed himself against you, your tits pressed against his muscular chest, kissing each other like it was your last night alive.

soon he pulled away, and out of habit you chased after him but he held you back. he placed your hands behind your back and you got the hint that he wanted them to stay there. he gripped your hair tightly and forced you to look him in his eyes.

"suck" was all he said before he pushed you to your knees. you felt warm water cascade down your back and although you knew this was wasting water, you couldn't bring yourself to care as you had more important business to attend to. as you got on your knees, your face was placed right in front of his glorious cock.

you licked your lips and immediately got to work placing kisses on his head. you kissed and kitten licked the tip until he pulled your hair harshly. "i have no time for games" you whimpered at his statement and without stalling, stuffed his girth into your mouth and sucked like your life depended on it

it was a tight fit but you did it nonetheless as sucking him off was your favourite pastime. he always rewarded you when you made him cum down your throat with your good cock sucking skills, no matter how little. so you ran your tongue along the veins on his cock and sucked his balls until be lost all controll and started fucking your mouth

you moaned at the feeling of him pulling your hair and forcing his cock down your throat, you'd cum on the spot if you could. jongho kept fucking your throat harder and harder. the longer he went on the more noises escaped him, small groans and mumbles that drove you crazy

you felt his dick twitch on your tongue and you knew he was about to cum, you were about to make sure that his load would go straight down your throat but he pulled out and used his tight grip on your hair to pull you up. you stared at him with glossed over eyes and spit all over your swollen lips

"such a good slut sucking my dick for me, but it's time for your punishment baby" he said lowly, his deep voice sent chills all over your body. he let go of your hair and turned off the shower, leaving the bathroom immediately and of course like his little lap dog, you followed.

as he went into the special drawer where he keeps all your toys, you stood by the bed patiently waiting to see what he pulls out and what orders he has for you. soon he turns around with his big wooden paddle that has 'jongho's' imprinted on it and handcuffs

your knees had gone weak thinking of what he had in store for you as he'll surely leave you a fucked out mess. "on your stomach" he demanded and you obeyed, laying down with your feet near the edge of the bed where he pointed for you to lie. jongho walked to the side of the bed and handcuffed your hands behind your back and resumed his position behind you

you have no clue when he's going to spank you but you patiently wait for the sudden sensation of the large wooden paddle against your ass

soon you heard a loud smack and felt a pinch on your left ass cheek, your whimper filled the quiet room as jongho caressed the spot he just hit. "tell me everything bad you did today"

'shit, he's gonna make this hard on me' you thought, you then started reciting everything you did today that would soon earn you your punishment

"i touched myself without sir's permission, i grinded myself on sir's face when i wasn't supposed to and i came without sir's permission" you recited for him "and how many spanks do you think you should receive?" you thought for a moment, knowing your answer would just make him more upset but you said it anyway, "ten" you answered truthfully and quietly

another hard spank, "wrong answer slut" he hit your ass with his hand this time, groping it. you can feel his huge hand soothing the stinging sensation but adding onto the pleasure. "the correct answer is 15 and you're going to count every single one of them followed by an "i'm sorry sir" do you understand?"

you full on moaned as he said this, "yes sir, i understand" you could feel him smirking as he leaned down to pepper kisses on your ass cheeks which you're sure was red by now and soon he continued spanking you with the huge paddle "one, i'm sorry sir"

he chuckled, the sadist in him loving the pain and pleasure only he is in control of giving you. he hit you again, harder, and you squealed a little, "two, im sorry sir" this went on for a while. sometimes you almost forgot to count but caught yourself last minute so you wouldn't get extra punishment

but it paid off in the end when he finally undid your cuffs. he left soft kisses on your ass that was so contradictory to his persona at the moment. "you look so pretty with my name on your ass darling" he said as he continued leaving kisses on your ass

but jongho, as with everyone, had his breaking point. instead of waiting any longer, he flipped you around and immediately tackled you with a strong and passionate kiss while rolling your hardened nipple in his hand. you moaned into the kiss, silently begging for more until he gave it to you

he left a trail of licks and love bites from your neck to your abdomen until he reached his destination. your dripping wet pussy. he took a moment to take in your scent before spreading your lips, you felt him exhale which sent shivers down your spine right before he delivered the first lick to your awaiting, needy cunt

"be a good toy and stay still while i enjoy your taste" jongho uttered, barely finishing his sentence before he latched himself onto your clit, sucking like he had no other option. your hands flew to his hair, tugging it and moaning his name which he didn't take very lightly.

his hand arose and slapped your right breast as he continued the assault on your clit. you relished the feeling of his mouth and hands on you, taking you into otherworldly pleasure until your sensation was heightened. jongho entered two fingers without warning and trusted them deep inside you.

you held his wrist and arched your back, the pleasure of fingers inside you and his mouth biting and sucking your clit was becoming too much. "sir- please, need- fuck. need y-you" you managed to say, working hard on forming that sentence only for jongho to deny you

he slapped your thigh harshly, "i'll make your punishment longer if you don't take what you get" he said. looking at you with all the lust he had inside him while maintaining the pace of his fingers that were moving in and out of you. the squelching sounds of your pussy only adding to the experience

you were about to cum, you knew it. your clit was sensitive and your pussy squeezed his fingers. you badly needed your release but no matter how much you beg jongho would not give it to you. at the last minute, when you were about to have a mind blowing orgasm he pulled his fingers out

you felt tears escape your eyes at the loss of your release which jongho found much joy in. he passed a finger on your cheek to wipe your tears, licking them off his fingers in the process, "you look so pretty crying for me darling"

he then kneeled between our legs, resting his cock right on top of your sopping wet cunt, but he never put it in. he instead rubbed his cock on your pussy lips, going at a slow pace at first but picking up the pace eventually.

he grabbed your legs, placing your thighs together with his strong grip as he fucked himself between them. he threw his head back and moaned for the first time that night, the feeling of him being so close to you yet so far from fucking you drove you mad.

your incessant begs and pleads finally got to him and he gave you what you've been craving "okay sugar, you can have what you want, but you cum when i say you can" you nodded and answered with the preppiest "yes sir" you could, finally happy to be receiving the pleasure you've been desiring all day

he spread your legs as wide as he could while holding his cock, rubbing it against your entrance. spreading more of your juices on his dick, he slowly thrusted his thick, long member inside you.

you exhaled a long, content sigh at the sensation of feeling full to the brim with cock. you knew better than to start moving on your own so you let him do it at his own rate.

he started thrusting at such an intimate pace that everything moved in slow motion, he situated his hand around your neck, squeezing tightly and pulled out of you almost all the way. without a warning he slammed into your cunt, making you let out the most porn-star-like moan you've ever heard

your mouth hung open as he suddenly rammed into you without hesitance with such vigour your brain couldn't process it, he did it just like he does on stage, this time fueled by lust and desire. you left scratches on his arms, finally being able to roam your hands all over him as you shook and screamed his name, no words being able to escape either of you as he hit spots inside of you you didn't even know existed.

all you could do was mumble incoherent sentences about how badly you wanted him to breed you and make you his. he pulled out fully and spun you around. letting you fall onto the bed face first before holding your legs open and continuing his merciless fucking

"inside, please sir, only yours" were the words you worked so hard to form but they managed to get the idea across. "you want sir to breed his little cub huh?? use you as my personal little cum bucket to get you pregnant" your pussy tightened at his words which didn't go unnoticed by the man on top of you

"like the idea of sir getting you pregnant huh? gonna have to start calling me daddy from now on because i'm gonna breed you everyday" the way he spoke to you woke a certain feeling inside you that you couldn't express, but you knew you loved

you felt your climax approaching, screaming for jongho to let you cum and impatiently awaiting his answer."wait for me little toy" escaped his lips, both of you gasping and clawing at each other, working hard toward that final climax. he held your hips in a way that would leave you covered in love marks and bruises for days.

you, being the toy he simply uses to make himself cum, just lay there on your stomach taking what he gives you just the way you like it. "fuck baby, gonna cum" his pace getting harsher and harsher, making you near your climax as well "fuck baby, gonna fill this tight hole then you're gonna cum for me yeah?" you nodded, not being able to think anymore, truly being fucked stupid

soon you felt him empty himself in you, filling you with his load of cum which in turn made you reach your orgasm. both of your eyes rolling back, moaning loudly and being in pure ecstasy

he fell to your side, trying to catch his breath, "are you okay doll?" he asked, reverting to the sweet and soft jongho you know. head still blank from your high, you nodded and rolled over to him. both of you were spent and you felt his cum beginning to leak out of you. "you know, if you really want to get me pregnant" you reached over to bite his ear lobe softly "you should find a way to keep this cum in me....daddy" despite using all your energy you wanted more and so did he "don't mind if i do baby"

･ﾟ✧ﾟ･･ﾟ✦ﾟ･･ﾟ✧ﾟ･･ﾟ✦ﾟ･･ﾟ✧ﾟ･･ﾟ✦ﾟ･･ﾟ✧ﾟ･･ﾟ✦ﾟ･･ﾟ✧ﾟ･･ﾟ✦ﾟ･･ﾟ✧ﾟ･･ﾟ✦ﾟ･･ﾟ✧ﾟ･･ﾟ✦ﾟ･

ateez masterlist

masterlist

a/n pt.2: this is the only time my brain would ever be able to write this much at once😭

[angry-geese]

Lost and Losing It

Eddie Munson x Reader

Warnings: none! Sfw. Angst with a happy ending, first kiss, friends to lovers, probably some secondhand embarrassment. Gn!reader

Word count: 1.8k

Synopsis:

"what the hell are you still doing in Hawkins?" Eddie asks.

"we were supposed to get out of here, remember?" You ask. "You and I were gonna go to California to make it big. But you're still in school and I'm still stuck working the same shitty warehouse job!"

He recalls how eerily similar your conversation sounds to an argument you had months back. That ended badly. You didn't talk to him for a week. Even after you made up, things weren't ever quite the same. You buried yourself in work. And Eddie...

Perhaps you've changed a lot. Perhaps Eddie hasn't changed at all.

When Eddie hears a car pulling up the gravel road to his uncle’s trailer, he writes it off as one of his neighbors. The microwave dings, signaling his Cup O Noodles is ready. The first time he hears a knock at the door, he ignores it. It must be Mrs. Morgan asking for salt again. Whoever it is at the door must be in a hurry, he thinks, because a moment later they knock again. This time it's far louder. 

Muttering a few choice expletives, he abandons his ramen for the door. He figures whichever door to door salesman it is, will go away the moment he answers. One of the last people he expects to see standing on his doorstep, is you.

You’re still dressed in your work uniform: black Carhartts, a long sleeve shirt under a red polo with the company name sewn into the sleeve. There's a book in your hands: Dungeon Masters Guide. You offer it to him sheepishly. Several yellow post-its stick out of the book. He catches a glimpse of your neat handwriting on one.

“I wasn't feeling well so Mr. Matthews let me leave work a bit early.” You say. “I came by to drop off your book.”

A pencil sticks out from behind his ear. His hair is tied back. He has a safety pin in the piercing you once did years ago. The top few buttons of his shirt have come undone, revealing a new tattoo. It's fresh. The skin around it is still red, and irritated.

“Do you want to come hang for a bit?” He asks. “It's just… it's been awhile since I last saw you.”

You wring your hands. “I'm sorry.” You say. “I've been so busy with work. And my dad—he's sick again. The doctors are saying it's pneumonia this time.”

You look tired, he notes. Really tired.

It's as if the span of a few months has aged you ten years. You're no longer the same person he saw at school all those years ago. You've changed. Perhaps he hasn't changed at all.

“I get it.” He says. “Sometimes I forget you’ve technically got bills and stuff now.”

You laugh. “Yeah. I guess I’m supposed to be a responsible adult now.”

“Want a beer?” He asks. Light floods the kitchen as he cracks the door to the fridge open.

“Sure.” You say. “I can't drink too much, though. I drove here and my dad will have my ass if he catches me coming home plastered again.”

The bottles clink together as he holds them both in one hand. Using a lighter, he pries the caps off. “How’s he doing?” Eddie asks. “Your dad, I mean.”

“I dunno,” you say. “He's not getting worse but… he keeps talking about some malaria medication they gave him before he left for the war. He's saying that's what made him sick,

“It's just… not like him,” you continue. “I don't think he's lying, but it sounds so absurd.”

“It's not like that's the first, or last time the US government has experimented on its citizens.” He says. “Just look at MK Ultra.”

“That's not comforting at all.” You say, laughing softly.

The cushion beside you dips as he sits. He frees the pencil from behind his ear, tossing it aside. Your eyes fall to the rack of mugs hung above the counter. Such a familiar place, and yet you feel like a stranger here. You can hardly count all the evenings you've spent here, playing dnd, and being a general terror to the neighborhood. The countless summers you’d swim in the quarry, drunk, half naked, and freezing to death come sunset.

The silence that settles over the room isn't one you can call comfortable. Eddie twists one of his rings between his forefinger and thumb. His knee bounces anxiously. You bring the beer to your lips and take a sip. It feels as if you have to swallow twice for it to finally go down.

“Rick’s back?” You ask. “Thought he was still in jail.”

“He's on parole right now.” Eddie says. “Why? You looking to buy something?”

“Not really,” you say. “Just bein’ nosy.”

Your weak attempt at small talk has fallen flat on its face. He seems to take a sudden interest in picking at his nails. The black polish on them is badly chipped. They look to have been bitten down to the nail beds. 

"What the hell are you still doing in Hawkins?" Eddie asks.

Something akin to anger flares up in your chest. You recall how eerily similar this conversation is to an argument you had months back. That ended badly. You didn't talk to him for a week. Even after you made up, things weren't ever quite the same. You buried yourself in work. And Eddie…

“We were supposed to get out of here, remember?” You ask. “You and I were gonna go to California to make it big. I'd be a published author and your band was supposed to be making it big out West. But you're still in school, and I'm still stuck working the same shitty warehouse job!”

Perhaps you’ve changed a lot. Perhaps Eddie hasn't changed at all.

“86 is gonna be my year.” He says.

“That's what you said last year.” You say. “You were supposed to walk with me at graduation. And we were supposed to flip Principal Higgins the bird as we walked on that stage!”

“You still flipped him off.” Eddie says. His face is close enough to yours that you can feel his breath against your skin. He smiles, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

“God you should have seen the look on his face,” you say. “What are they gonna do though, suspend me? I left that shithole behind,

“I do miss Hellfire, though. We should run another campaign this summer.”

Your dad always figured you were fine playing dnd. He thought you may run into some real weirdos while playing it, but he wasn't opposed to you doing so.

You suppose he wasn't entirely wrong about the weirdos part. Not that you mind. You find them to be plenty better company than most people.

“I don't care if I have to wait another year,” you say. “We’re getting out of here.”

“Trust me, I am army crawling my way to a passing grade in Econ.” He says.

Eddie Munson is not dumb. You always figured that if things were different—if even a little—that he would be out of there by now. He's bright. Christ—he reads more than you—more than most people you know. He’s a talented DM, and an even better storyteller. 

Sometimes you think things aren't made for people like him. Or you, for that matter.

The first year and a half of highschool went well. After spring break of sophomore year, everything went to shit. You're not certain why it did. Maybe people are right when they say Hawkins is cursed. But you’re not religious, nor are you superstitious. And all those stories about something being buried beneath this town are just that: stories.

Eddie was always there to remind you that things didn't have to suck. And when you were around him, they didn't. 

Eddie thinks he should pinch himself. He's dreaming. He must be dreaming. You… in his house… with his uncle at work. It's just too… perfect. 

Getting you alone was always difficult to do, especially as you got older. Hellfire wasn't the place for it. Class wasn't. And after you graduated, most of your free time was spent working. The few times he tried to stop by your house, he didn't get any further than talking with your father. Usually you were at work. When you weren't, the conversations you had were often brief, and one sided.

Eddie has thought long and hard about how this conversation would go. How he would apologize, or maybe you would. Maybe you were still mad at him. Or maybe time had simply pushed you two apart, creating a rift that would never truly heal.

Your hand presses against his knee to prevent it from bouncing. Eddie hadn't even realized he was doing it.

His heart leaps into his throat. Eddie’s hand wraps around yours, as if to move it, yet simply stops there.

“Sorry you were just… I was…” You stammer out a few more fragments of a sentence before finally saying: “wanna watch a movie?”

“Yeah,” he says, “sure, sure.” Although his head is turned away, you can see the redness that creeps up his cheeks.

You fumble for the remote, switching the TV on. Nightmare on Elm Street. The movie looks to be about halfway over.

“I missed hanging out with you.” He says quietly.

“I missed you too—hanging you with you, I mean.” You say. “God it's been so weird without you around. Even my dad has been asking where you were and he…”

“Can't stand me?”

“Nah,” you say. “I think you’ve grown on him.”

Eddie has finally noticed how close your faces have gotten. Your free hand has moved to cover his, and he prays you won't notice how badly his palms are sweating.

“Can I… do you want to…” You pause for a moment, seemingly collecting yourself. “Can I kiss you?”

“You can.” He says, with no hesitation. His pointer finger and thumb dig into the flesh of his arm, and he feels the sharp sting of it. He’s not dreaming…

Your lips press against his gently, but with a certain neediness behind them. You taste faintly like coffee, and his stubble scratches your skin. Something burns in his chest, and it's not from the alcohol. 

Eddie thinks that if he died now, he would die a happy man. 

Your lips part from his with a soft smack. His eyes don't open until your hands move to cup his cheeks, guiding him to look at you.

“Kiss me again,” you say. “Please.” 

You must not know how long he’s been waiting to hear those words.

This time, he leans in first. His hair tickles your neck as he nips at your bottom lip. You are expecting his hands to find your waist; you aren't expecting his tongue to enter your mouth.

The front door slides open and in steps Wayne Munson. He kicks the toe of his boot against the front step, knocking the dirt off them, before discarding his Georgia Loggers at the door.

“Mr. Munson,” you say, shuffling away from Eddie. “You’re home early!”

Wayne greets you with a nod, and a grunt, before settling into his recliner. He gets up once to grab the remote, switching to the nightly news. Within a matter of minutes, Eddie’s uncle goes from wide awake, to dozing off, occasionally waking himself up with his own snores.

“Why don't we go hang out in your room?” You ask.

“Sounds like a good idea.” He says.

[softquietsteadylove]

4th

He felt more guilty about it and was more eager to leave her alone but it was Thena who felt familiar and comfortable with him. She came to the shop the next day but it was closed, Gilgamesh was just watching her, hiding somewhere and debating himself if he'll go out and see her...and he did. She was happy to see him and she ordered the same thing that she orders everytime. After that he realized that she needs him, she has no one in her life but him. So he decided to stay for her thinking that it won't be bad to be a baddass gangster pretending to be a sweet coffee shop owner.

I'm sorry it has 4 parts😭 thank you so much!!!! I owe you my life, really.

Gil looks up as he hears a knock on the front window. He isn't open yet, and he's ready to tell whomever that. Then he sees who it is, walking over to open the door with a smile, "Thena."

"Hi," she smiles back, stepping in demurely as he opens the door just for her and then locks it again. "Sorry to come in early."

He shakes his head, sliding his trays of pastries into the case lengthwise, "for you?--come in anytime."

Thena shifts on her feet, toying with the strap of her purse. She looks just like she did when he first met her for the second time. "I just...I wanted to tell you I had a lovely time, last night."

His heart swells in his chest.

He's had this idea that he shouldn't have anything to do with her. It's too dangerous, he wants to protect her etc. And those things are true. But then he thinks about the lost look on her face, the first time she ordered a cappuccino off him (and every time after). He thinks about how he bought online masterclasses on baking and barista-ing so he could run a proper cafe, just so Thena would have a place that makes it just how she likes.

He thinks about how he doesn't seem entirely able to go on with his life if she's not in it.

He didn't think she remembered anything about the crash, he has to admit. But he still doesn't know if her memories will actually come back or not. And if they don't...he doesn't think he cares. He'll take care of her, make sure she's safe. He'll be whatever she needs him to be.

Thena tilts her head as he slides the pastry case door closed and walks over to her. Her eyes flutter as he steps right into her space and just barely touches his lips to her cheek.

"I did too," he says easily, and it's entirely true. It was the first date he'd wanted to have with her nearly a year ago now, after all. And she'll remember this one.

Thena looks down at the white heels on her feet. "If you're free, this weekend maybe-"

"Sounds great!"

Thena lets out a laugh, watching him as he continues to set up for business, "I haven't told you what it is, yet!"

"Doesn't matter," he excuses easily, and walks over to lean against the counter. She leans closer too. "Anything with you is perfect to me."

"Do you say that to all your customers?" she smirks at him, and it reminds him of Thena the museum tour guide.

He could easily tell her that none of his customers are as pretty as her, because they're not. "Y'know, I think you'd be surprised to find that I don't talk to any of my customers as much as I talk to you."

He sees Thena's eyes drift down to his lips, and his eyes do the same. He's thought about this--he's thought about it countless times before. He's also worried about what to do when the opportunity finally did arise.

He still worries about Thena. He still worries about if he can really settle into being a cafe owner after the life he's had. But most of all, he wonders if he can really say he has any right to be with her when he's caused the greatest trauma of her life.

Thena leans up, touching her lips to his gently.

Gil kisses her back. He holds her cheek and tilts his head into it, because he's wanted to kiss her for more than a year. He has loved her for more than a year now, no matter how unfair that is. He has things to tell her, things to make up for. But he'll be there for it all.

Gil threads their fingers together as they pull out of the kiss. He looks into those green eyes, same as they were when he first met her - both times - and knows that he can't walk away from her. He tried and failed once already. And he doesn't intend on abandoning her again.

"Well," Thena murmurs, eyes drifting away from his with a nervous but pleased smile on those lips. "I should let you open for the day."

"Just before you do," Gil says softly, opening up the counter to pull her over to their little table. He pulls her chair out for her and everything, sitting across from her like he's done plenty of times before.

Thena furrows her brows as he sits down heavily, frowning. "Gil?"

"You were honest with me last night," he whispers, pulling her hands into his, "and now I want to do the same. The truth is...there's a reason I knew it was your birthday, Bookworm."

[oinkinpigprince]

Hi this is mainly for my friend but I was thinking about some of the one piece characters as cats, I’ve only read to chapter 30 so it’s only Nami, Luffy, Zoro, and Usopp

Luffy the type of cat who can’t swim, but whenever you’re taking bath he’ll jump straight into the water and then act surprised that he’s drowning

Also a very lanky cat, and stretch it’s very hard to pick him up cause of it

He’d also be a calico style cat or a black and white one, and loves running around and slamming into shit.

Would scarf his food down then try to steal everyone else’s, zoro’s kick his ass countless time

Also cat fights are hourly, like clock work Usopp and Luffy are the main antagonists

They also run around @ night knocking shit over and being the loudest POS then conk out all day

Zoro’s the cat that gets out and starts cat fights with the neighbor hood cats, comes back scratched up but soooooo proud of himself

Zoro’s the cat you get @ the shelter who every person told you was gonna be a problem and be hard to take care of and was gonna probably be very aggressive, and they were right but he also licks your nose when you’re laying on the couch so it’s worth it

Zoro also knocks glass specifically off the counter so that’s why you have to buy plastic dishes unless you want the most violent carpet known to man

He’s one of those built ass ugly ass blond cats(/pos) and has green eyes, also I feel like if he didn’t have green hair he’d have that fugly blond military cut hair

Doesn’t let anyone near him, unless it’s his favorite person. But it’s kinda hard to tell who’s his favorite person or he’s the one who lays on you, which is rare

Lays on your neck when you’re asleep and chokes you out, lovingly

Brings you dead birds as a sign of affection

Also watches you piss, just direct eye contact until you’re done

90% of your catch scratches are from him, but it’s like, lovingly

The other 10% are from Nami surprisingly, but that’s because you got too close to her horde of your shit

Steals everything from everyone and keeps it in a specific corner in a room or under your bed if she can

Very sweet but the type to let you pet her then bites immediately after

She has the bastard disease

I mean what do you expect from those gross lil orange cats

I need to stop being so damn mean, I fuckibg love cats wtf

Shes always napping on the stuff you need and looks at you bastardly when you try and gently try and get her off

Then gets offended when you actually do get her off

Kneeds your leg aggressively with the sweetest smile so you don’t do anything about it

She lays in your lap while your work or play games and licks your chin

Also grooms your hair or just licks your bald head if you don’t have any

Namis definitely the type to eat shit she shouldn’t eat

I said she hordes random shit but 90% is like any jewelry you own or shiny shit and old socks

Has eaten said jewelry and you’ve taken her to the pet ER numerous times for it, and she always has this shit eating grin on her face when you take her home

Usopp you found suck in your fence on a rainy day, you had to call a fire man to get him out and he’s been your problem everyday

Him and luffy have 4 brain cells combined, and luffy does not like sharing

Usopp gets trapped in everything and waits for you to come bail him out by meowing/screaming

He’s super cuddly though and very playful, he likes to act big and scary but one sudden move and he’s sprinting out pissing himself

Scared of everything new, then once he gets familiar it’s suddenly his favorite thing in the world

Also gets into fights like zoro but always looses and comes back crying and sad

He has big dog syndrome but for cats, he thinks he can fight pit bulls 9x his size but then runs away screaming the moment they move

But will still try and fight you

Gets into everything too somehow, then can’t get out??

Actually love water and will regularly hop in the tub w/ you and swim around

I feel like he could be a leash cat, walk him around on a leash

He’s a turtle shell cat btw, vry important

Runs around at ungodly hours of the night and jumps on you while you’re sleeping

But gets pissy if you wake him up

Prolly the best one to cuddle with, he’ll lay on your chest and purr while you two watch a movie

Walks on your keyboard while you’re typing though, bastard man

Licks everything too, everything he can get his spiky little tongue

Like zoro he’ll bring you stuff from his ‘hunt’ but it’s just leaves and sticks, you appreciate them anyways cause he got them FOR YOU

Does those very unimpressive jumps, falls a lot tbh

Loves playing w/ toys and his is the only reason you buy them, his favorite ones are the ones shaped like animals, especially birds

Jumps when he sees cucumbers & pickles

Fights w/ Nami a lot but that’s cause she takes his favorite toys into her stash and he wants them back and the two just growl and hiss at each other til they start fighting

Him and luffy get into a lot of trouble and have broken so many household appliances

Sleeps on freshly clean laundry and refuses to get up to let you fold and put it away

Don’t worry about him getting locked in the dryer he’s too scared to even go in there

Loves to drink out of the toilet like a dirty gremlin, every time you scold him he just has a blank stare on his face like •_____•

He’ll climb up your pant leg just to get your attention like kittens

He’s an attention whore

This was fun, I hope you like it calico :))

[vivalaplxto]

Ships: Kunikidazai

Genre: hurt/comfort

Summary: Dazai has been having an especially bad day, seemingly out of nowhere. Kunikida gets an itching feeling that he needs to keep a keen eye on him. He turns out to be right.

Warnings: self-harm, fixation on sharp objects, getting caught relapsing, mention of past attempted suicides. Oh, yeah, blood. Send me a dm if I missed any, I don't check my inbox like ever.

Something was not quite right in the Agency office today, it was obvious. Dazai was more distracted than ever and not even Kenji could manage to cheer him up.

"Kunikida-kun..." Atsushi muttered, "Dazai hasn't gotten on your nerves today."

Kunikida couldn't bring himself to do his work, either; it seemed when Dazai wasn't being quite himself, nobody could shake off the feeling of worry. It was so strong it prevented even Kunikida from carrying out his schedule— which was rare for him. The blonde sighed and dropped his pen as he rose from his chair, "get back to work, kid, I'll check on him. Where is he?"

"He was in the cafe earlier, I'm not sure if he—"

He needed no more information than that before he was speed-walking towards the door, closing it behind him louder than he had intended. Whatever, his own actions weren't what mattered at the moment.

———

The chime of the doorbell caught the ginger maid's attention, and she seemed to know what the man was here for. "Dazai, right?"

"Yes, he's not here. Where did he go off to?" the desperation was evident in his tone. This man was hellbent on making sure his coworker was alright, and he seemed slightly more worried than he was letting on. God only knows the kinds of things he had been through with the brunette over two years of partnership.

Lucy continued sweeping behind the counter, not looking up to face Kunikida, "don't know, but check his place. I'm sure you have his spare keys and I don't like how he looked at the glass I dropped earlier."

Kunikida was almost certain they were both thinking the same thing, and thanked her before running out the door. Lucy chuckled at that; he was so concerned he didn't even bother keeping composure. That's a man who cares, for sure.

———

He'd been knocking at Dazai's apartment door and shouting for him for a few minutes now. Was he even here?

Having no other choice, he let himself in. Surely enough, not a sign of Dazai. Not in his bedroom, not in the kitchen, nowhere. It was getting late, and he hadn't been in his apartment... Where else could he be at this time?

The lake. Of course, the lake, the place he'd dragged him from countless times before.

———

It was quiet, and the sunset breeze was just right under the bridge. Dazai had been pacing along the walkway beneath it for some time, at least two hours now. He'd waited until it was quiet, and he was sure nobody would be around to stop him.

He took a deep breath as he unraveled the bandages around the arm with the least cuts and pressed a razor against a clean spot.

One slash, then another, then one more. He hissed each time, but watching the cuts bleed satisfied him. He bled, and it was a sign of his mortality. He was very much human.

"Dazai! What on Earth are you doing here this late?!"

Shit... so much for planning.

The brunette hurriedly shoved the bloodied razor into his coat pocket and hastily wrapped his arm back up in attempt to hide it, but it was too late. Kunikida had seen his mannerisms just then, and he knew him better than anyone. He'd seen his scars before, though only briefly.

Kunikida's hand was on his shoulder sternly, "Dazai, did you think I wouldn't come looking for you?"

"Why do you care, anyways?"

Kunikida huffed and loosened his grip slightly, "Dazai, look at me. Look me in the eyes, because I speak this with honesty," Kunikida waited until his partner did so, "you are just as human as anyone else, and you have days like these where you don't feel it, but it's true. And cutting yourself is not a good way to remind yourself of your mortality!"

The taller man let out a sigh of relief, removing his hand from Dazai's shoulder and reaching for his book, tearing a page from it and activating his ability to acquire a handkerchief.

"Dazai, your arm, if you will?"

Said brunette stood still for a moment. There's better ways to feel human? Kunikida... taking care of him? Surely he was still alive, right? He didn't die, he's sure of that.

"You... Had a handkerchief at the ready? For me?" Dazai smiled as he lifted said arm and unwrapped the loose bandages, "Kuni-kun... You shouldn't have..."

"Damn fool," Kunikida snapped, more stern now while padding at the fresh cuts on Dazai's arm, "why wouldn't I have searched for you? I have dragged you out of this river countless times in the past, why would I not come find you now?"

Dazai watched as the other wiped up the blood that dripped down his arm with a grimace, "it's nice, knowing you care. Thank you, Kunikida-kun."

"Don't thank me, I'm just doing what I know to be right."

Dazai hummed; he's certainly alive. This was definitely the Kunikida he knew, caring for him and then then rejecting his thanks. Typical.

"Are you going to walk me home, too?" Dazai teased.

"I suppose so. I want to make sure you get back safely. Besides, tonight is a nice night."

[write-helluva-messy-boss]

this came to my head recently:

Fizzarolli as a disgruntled cashier

Some Karen pisses him off. Not difficult to do since he's already in a job he hates. But of course he's the most sarcastic asshole you'll ever meet if you annoy him at his horrible job.

She's been hounding and nagging at him since she got here. Wouldn't leave him alone, expected him to do everything she wanted. She even called him a freeloader. Hell didn't offer bonuses, but they should have with customers like these.

And now, she was pissed he was her cashier. And that he wasn't going fast enough. It wasn't his fault she decided to get three-million things, all of which apparently were beneath her standards anyway.

And then, she said it. Annoyance on her face, looking at his arms. "They really will hire any crippled retard off the street now, won't they? Can you even hear me? I've got places to be and I don't want to smell like knock-off perfume."

He stares her dead in the face, eyes narrow. He's tired. It's right before close. Her ridiculously huge order is clogging up the conveyer, and of course, the line behind her is a mile long.

In one swift motion, Fizz extends his arm. It wraps completely around her pile of groceries. He slides it all in one big heap, over the scanner and into the bagging area. His machine beeps once, satisfied. All her groceries overflow from one plastic bag and tumble all over the floor, fruits rolling, bottles colliding with each other, boxes denting, meats and cheeses splatting.

The woman is so flabbergasted she can't even speak. Fizz shrugs.

"Oops."

Then his eyes return to the charge screen. "Six-hundred fourteen (614) dollars and eighty-two (82) cents."

Fizz's banal declaration seems to snap her out of her silence, but her voice is still hoarse, her mind blankly processing the mess rolling at her feet.

"That's not what it—"

Fizz talks over her, his teeth starting to bare. "Eight-hundred ninety eight (898) dollars and thirty-five (35) cents."

"You can't just make—"

"A thousand (1000) fucking dollars!"

By now, the checkout lane manager has heard the commotion. He's coming over. The woman is getting red in the face, almost hysterical.

"You're—!" She starts screaming profanities at him. Countless slurs.

"Twenty (20) grand!" Fizz snaps over her. "A hundred (100) grand!" Oh, he could play this game all day. His manager is trying to talk over him, pull him away, get between them. It's not fazing anybody.

"How about a million fucking dollars, you cunt?" he asks, clawing into the keyboard.

Everyone in the vicinity gasps, and the woman shrieks in anger. Fizz's arms launch to the computer where he keymashes numbers. By now, several employees have been enlisted to drag Fizzarolli away from the counter. He continues pounding on the keyboard, even as they yank at his arms. He's overextending them just to stay put.

"A trillion bucks for groceries, you whore! See how you like that shit, huh? You gonna pay for it? Pay for my disability? Keep up my useless citizen pity pay?"

She starts whacking his computer with her purse, aiming for his hands, his face, anywhere. And he, of course, starts clawing at her back, until the tug of war finally breaks him away. The manager and crowd of employees (and now bystanders) drags him away. Applause and cheering erupts from the crowd.

"Shut the fuck up, you pompous fucking cowards," Fizz bellows at them, dragged by his feet, face down across the laminate flooring of the grocer, still clenching fistfuls of fabric and electronics. One of them throws money at him. A perfectly wadded twenty-dollar bill lands in front of his face on the white, stained floor, and he watches it retreat away from him as the crowd pulls him back into a swinging door. Only then does he realize that maybe some of them were on his side.

They toss him on the ground behind a chain link fence in the stock room. The manager appears, panting, eyebrows furrowed.

"You're fired," he declares angrily before leaving once again, likely to go back to comforting that arrogant bitch. The crowd disperses, some customers spitting at Fizz's feet.

Fizz sits up, his body hurting. The world is slowing down finally, and feeling is rushing back into his core. His shoulders and ribs ache. He looks down into his hands.

Part of the keyboard is in one hand, keys falling off their spots as he releases his grip. In the other hand, there's ripped pleather. And a wallet.

He opens it up.

Credit cards. Cash. Tons of cash. The ID card matches that damn Karen.

There's his bonus.

[hope-m11]

𝙵𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎

Chapter 7

Summer vacation has begun and Briar Rose is spending the first month with her father and the rest with her mother because she wants to fly away with her. I'm home for two days and flying back to Hayden today. I told Hayden not to pick me up at the airport so the paparazzi wouldn't see him and Briar Rose.

I get out of the taxi as Hayden quickly walks over to me. He hugs me, then leans down to the passenger side window and gives the taxi driver money. He helps me with the suitcase and I take my purse. Poppy barks when she sees Briar Rose.

“Aleia,” shouts Briar Rose, who runs towards me.

"Hey sweet girl." I say and hug her.

                                   ***

It's midnight, today was a tiring and hot day. We were in the backyard all day helping Hayden feed and clean the animals. I'm lying in bed and scrolling through my messages from April, who wrote to me about the cover of the new book, Tom and Zendaya, who want to go out to dinner with me when I'm back in London. Paddy who tells me about his dream Sam who writes to me about a new dish and sends a photo of it to Harry who writes to me how crazy Paddy's dream is. I turn off my phone when Hayden comes back from the bathroom, he smiles at me and lies down next to me. He moves closer to me and then he lifts himself up so that I don't have to put his weight on me, we kiss very slowly, his lips move down my neck and he sucks on a spot that makes me moan softly. I pull his hair and put my lips on his again, he lifts my leg and places it on his hip and pulls me closer to him. He stroked his hand up and down my bare leg. My arms are around his neck, the whole thing excites me, his lips go back to my neck, his hand under my top and caresses my breast very gently. I moan softly and rub myself against him, which makes him moan. I pull his hair and lift his head up, I press my lips to his and put my other hand on his chest and push him away from me a little. He places a kiss on my lips and lies down next to me.

                                       ***

"Poppy." I call.

No barking Poppy always barks when I call her name to show me that she has heard me and is coming. I knock on Briar Rose's room and open it, Poppy and Briar Rose are sitting in bed watching something on the TV.

"Hey, what are you two doing?"

"We're looking at Ladybug right now." Briar Rose says happily. “Do you want to come and take a look?”

,,Yes." I sat down on the bed next to her.

Poppy licks my face, I giggle and pet her, half an hour has passed, Briar Rose and I fell asleep. When I wake up and she's no longer lying next to me, I panic, but it disappears again when I hear her and Hayden's voice. Hayden had to get a few things and left me alone with his daughter. I get off the bed and stretch and am about to head for the door when I hear Briar Rose say something.

"I really like her daddy. She’s always so funny.”

She thinks I'm funny and she likes me.

"You know, last time we both had to laugh at you because you snore." she says with a laugh.

I put my hand over my mouth and then open the door and go into the kitchen. Hayden is cooking and Briar Rose is sitting on the counter watching her father.

Hayden turns around when he sees me, he gives me a crooked grin, I hoist myself up and sit next to Briar Rose.

“Aleia, your cell phone has been ringing a lot,” she says and hands me my cell phone

I read through the individual messages.

Tom: Okay, I'll tell Zendaya.

I click on the writing and click on the thumb.

April: Your promo tour is starting soon.

The first will start in London.

Me: I'm looking forward to it.

I'm looking forward to the promo tour but I think April is more than me.

My first promotional tour of my first fantasy book was so good that the fans wanted a second part, it took me some time but I finally wrote the second part.

When I announced on Instagram that the second part had been written and would be out soon, the fans went crazy. I received countless messages and answered them as best I could.

I turn off the phone and put it next to me, looking next to me Briar Rose is no longer sitting next to me.

,,She is in her room." says Hayden, who turned to me briefly.

I jump off the counter and hug Hayden from behind. He turns to me and smiles at me, pulls me up so that I'm on my tiptoes, he leans down and kisses me briefly.

"Will you please get Briar Rose so we can eat." he says.

I nod and quickly kiss him again, I knock on Briar Rose's room door and then open the door. When she sees me, she looks up in shock and quickly hides something behind her back. I have to smile.

,,The food is ready." I say smiling.

She nods and takes my hand, we walk to the kitchen, Hayden has set the table and is putting food on our plates. When he sees us he smiles, we sit down and start eating.

                                        ***

"Briar Rose really likes you," says Hayden, who sat down next to me in the living room after putting his daughter to bed.

I turn the TV down.

“And I really like her too,” I say and cuddle Hayden.

As I look up at him, he leans in and kisses me. We stay like that as we kiss, then he turns me on my back, his lips trailing down to my neck. I bite my lip to keep from moaning.

As someone licks me, I pull Hayden by his hair and away from my neck and look into Poppy's eyes staring back at me. She licks my face and makes me laugh. Hayden pulls away from me and watches me.

The story is also available on Wattpad.

Name: @Hopeee_m11

[4dtk]

hello, i hope you’re doing well! can I request holding hands 13, hugs 34, kiss 7 & 31, and touching 38 with johnny? the plot could revolve them finally deciding that it’s time they’re ready to try for kids since they just moved into a new place! thank you <

got carried away. enjoy LMAO

hand-holding, 13: linking hands together during sex

hugs, 34: hugging while grabbing butt

kisses, 7 & 31: passionate kisses, gentle stroking of cheeks

touching, 38: stroking their leg

warnings/tags: dom!johnny, sub!reader, fem!reader, breeding/impregnation kink, daddy kink, brief cockwarming, cunnilingus/oral (f receiving), fingering, missionary, mating press, vaginal penetration

NSFW UNDER THE CUT, MINORS DNI!!!

"how’d you like the place, mrs. suh?" you can’t help but let out a smile at the honorific, leaning into his side at the stunning place you’d manage to get. taking inspiration from pinterest, the array of options for you was blinding, but soon you settled on a style that you could both agree on along with the carefully crafted furnishings you’ve chosen.

"it’s so sexy," you whisper with a laugh, looking around at the pristine kitchen counters and overhead lighting. you’re saying it half as invitation, and you smile knowingly when johnny turns it around to compliment you.

"ya know what else is sexy?" rolling your eyes, you turn to face him to see a lazy smirk stretch across his face. johnny says nothing more and leans in gently, taking your lips with his in a sensual kiss that shows no matter how cheeky he is with you, the love that’s gotten him wrapped around your finger is undeniably unconditional. in a way, it was literal, too where the silver band wraps around your fourth finger as a reminder of your shared love.

your husband pulls away just for a second, "for how many times i’ve came in you, i was sure i would’ve knocked you up by now." johnny has the pleasure to witness the malfunction of your brain, unable to form any words at the casual sentence he drops about fucking impregnating you. he coos and lets out a giggle when you try to pull away from him in embarrassment.

"you-! you’re really not shy saying those kinds of things?!" playfully you push him away, ignoring the turn in your stomach when he had murmured with a low voice. his apology came in the form of kisses along your forehead right up to your lips where you melt once again into his chilling embrace, fingertips as cold as the arctic while his body emanated warmth. you never understood his body temperature, but you couldn’t care much when his touches leave traces of electricity along your skin.

johnny walks you back, feeling around for the kitchen counter that he accidentally bumps you against. with a muttered apology said in haste, your lover captures your lips with his even more hungrily, using the strength in him to prop you up onto the counter. reluctantly, he pulls away again.

"aren’t you an eager one?" his hand strokes the legs that accommodate him, spread to hold him as close to you while his forehead rests on yours.

"how can i not? you’re so tempting without even knowing it…"

you sigh affectionately, "is it also as tempting as kids running around in our new house?"

johnny jerks back in surprise. "you… you want to try, now?"

with a hesitant smile, you reply, "i mean, why not?" you’re afraid you’ve said the wrong thing when johnny’s surprised look doesn’t let up, but soon you’re met with his contagious laugh, looking at you like you were the only thing to exist in his world. his heart’s never felt so warm before looking at you as it does right now and he has to hold himself back from taking you then and there.

"now who’s the eager one?"

you fail to shove him away, a grin plastered on your face as your cheeks flare up completely now, "bitch, you were the one who made the lewd joke!"

"it was a fact," you roll your eyes for the second time that night, pulling him in anyway to smash your lips with his. you're needy, unable to keep your hands off of him even when your skin is stinging from the cold temperature of the marble counters. johnny groans softly into your mouth, pushing onto your hips more and more to feel any form of friction with you.

he picks you off the counters effortlessly with a tight arm wound around your middle and lazy pecks placed onto your neck.

"do you think we'll get a noise complaint tomorrow?"

pursing your lips and shrugging was your answer, impatient with the countless questions and quips johnny liked to do during your sessions. "okay, okay, i'll shut up." johnny knows you like the back of his hand. it's an obvious feat, certainly, since you decided to say yes to his private proposal on the top of an observatory. under the stars, where they had given their blessing.

johnny knows you like the back of his hand in that way, too. and you forgot how fucking skilful he could be when duty calls.

you find your brows furrowed and your hand clutching onto the sheets for dear life while johnny's tongue relentlessly flicks against your clit. he eats like it's his last meal, both hands holding your thighs open. the warmth of his tongue makes you shiver, already feeling your slick leaking in between your cheeks.

obscene noises bounce off the walls of the new place, sheets already messy from your constant thrashing although everything else — the cupboards, the bedside table, the vanity — looked untouched. at least now you know this innerspring mattress was a good choice.

"you- fuck, johnny!" your moans only fuel your lover more, who settles into a more comfortable position, suctioning your bud into his mouth. your body twitches so much that you can feel the tightening of his grasp on your thighs, stilling you into a thrilling sensation of oversensitivity even before he's got himself buried in you.

"argh- fuck, fuuuck, mhnh-!" johnny swears his eyes roll back at the way you groan out multiple please's, which merges with the whimpers for him to go faster and deeper just as he sticks a finger in. your cunt clasps around the digit easily, mouth now speechless from how deep he reaches into you. "oh my god, j-johnny!"

johnny slips in a second finger, and a second later, a third which you easily welcome with your sopping pussy. he pumps all three into you at an agonisingly slow pace, half focusing on the lewd noises coming from below him and half licking up the arousal that lingers around his lips.

the hooded lids of his eyes stare up at you like prey, lowering his tongue back onto your clit. the combination makes you unravel, little mewls escaping your lips that contribute to the heat of the room.

"johnny- please fuck- please- can you fuck me now? c-can't-"

he shuts you up by sucking harder, causing your thighs to close in around his head. your pleas is not lost to him, but you're more focused now on chasing your high selfishly with how fucking good he's working his tongue despite the slow speed of his fingers.

"impatient." lick. "little." lick. "bitch." lick. he's loving every second where he doesn't give into you. "plus, you're gonna have to do more than that, honey."

"i-i need your cock, please, johnny!"

tut tut. "wrong name, baby." you whimper when his fingers slowly slip out, teasing your gummy walls by rubbing at your hole. you hardly can form any words, but you try your best anyway.

"c-cock, daddy- want your cock so fucking bad-"

"again."

sinking further into the delirious feeling of pleasure, you're willing to let go of any dignity just to have him deep in you, shooting loads and loads of his seed where there's no room for you to not get pregnant. "ah- d-daddy, please- i need your cock to split me open!"

"n-need your cum." the fingers halt, johnny's eyes are filled with you splitting your legs wider and wider. your hole is begging for him, clenching around nothing as it leaks more and more.

he hardly can contain his excitement, pants shimmied down to reveal his tight boxers. it's straining against his already hardened length, and he sighs in relief when he finally pulls the last remaining fabric down showing his tip that's angrily red, aching to be in you just by a few pumps of his hand. "all for you, pretty girl."

the name elicits a bashful smile from you, "need a suck, daddy?"

johnny caresses your sensitive sex gently, "'s okay, just wanna be deep in you. ain't that right, babygirl?"

you can taste him on your lips as he kisses you softly, a hand reaching up to stroke your cheek with a ghost of a touch. his eyes soften just a little before he nudges it into you, playing with your cunt just a little that deliciously clasps around the intrusion. a long groan leaves his lips when he finally gets deep into you, bottoming out in no time. smoothly, he slips an arm around your waist, supporting your arching back that grinds to feel more of him.

"that's right, baby, just like that. moan for me." his thrusts start out slow and you want to cum just from those few movements, his shaft brushing up against your walls so obscenely. your moans are like music to him, lips occasionally lingering at his ears where your repeated calls of daddy, daddy makes his thighs shake and his hips stutter.

you're certain you're drooling by now, trapping the man with your legs. his hips move quicker now, muttering praises that has your pussy fluttering around him and arms curling more around his neck. the line blurs more and more and all that's residing in your head is how good he feels in you paired with the wet pap, pap, pap of his hips meeting your cunt. gradually, the knot deep in your tummy tights like a coil, aching for release.

"god! j-johnny... you're so fucking deeep... hah-" with a tongue lolled out, you can only mumble short sentences, sometimes choked out in a sad attempt to call out to your lover. "ah- i am, a-aren't i? can't wait to- fuck- pump you full of my cum. want you filled to the brim, you'd like that, yeah?"

like a broken record, there's a chorus of yes's that leave you, at the thought of seeing your pussy struggling to take the many loads of johnny's seed as you whine and thrash at the way he'd push it back into you. and that's exactly what he plans to do.

he grunts when you tighten around him, jerking and transitioning into shorter, quicker strokes, desperate for release until he finally bursts. head buried in your neck, hot breaths littering your skin. you're not far behind, toes curling at the immense pleasure you're experiencing that when it comes, you shiver at the way you come undone, relishing in the way johnny spurts the warm liquid into you.

you're left to rest for a minute, his cock still buried in you. he can't get enough of you, he can never get enough of you. that's why he finds himself fucking into you again, the amount of rest not doing much for your sensitive body. it overwhelms you so much that you can't help but let your wanton moans fill the room, riddled with not a single thought.

"you feel so good around me, baby." johnny takes your legs, lifting them up from the previous missionary position. his cock delves deeper the same time he presses them into your chest, eliciting a shameless cry from you, begging him to move. "just to be certain, hm? gotta be sure that you're full of my cum — so i'd have the pleasure of seeing your belly swell up with my baby, your boobs full with milk."

"plus, i'm gonna need to be sure that i'm gonna become a daddy." using an arm to hold your legs down, the free hand grasps onto yours that's holding onto the headboard. he misses the first time, but catches your fingers in time with his thrusts.

"daddy... hah- please, you're filling me up so g-- so good!"

johnny groans, impaling you with his dick with a speed faster by the thousands compared to the previous round. with your legs tucked snugly to your chest, you can do nothing but plead with your eyes for any sort of relief.

"cum- cumming! cumming! jo- johnnyyy..." with a scream of his name, you're gushing around his length, head making a terrible indent into the softness of your pillows. your mouth grows lax, drool leaking from all sides of your mouth before the other's thrusts falter bit by bit. you take his cock to the hilt, balls twitching from releasing into you.

"fuck, baby, take it- take all of it in your pussy." he shoots another load deep into your cunt and you feel sticky all of a sudden, coming down from the intense high of the dizzying state you were always put in whenever johnny was in you. with a kiss to your twined hands, johnny murmurs out i love you to your fingers, planting another kiss on the silver ring that you donned.

weakly, you reply. "love you too, so much." although, you're confused when the other doesn't pull out.

"it's a plug. so i don't have to worry about you not getting a positive on that pregnancy test." you giggle at that. giving into him even when your legs return to their natural state. tenderly, johnny manoeuvres you onto your side, his still hard length resting in you and his hands move to your ass, squeezing it that makes you squeal softly. "it's a win-win. i get a baby, and you won't have to clean the sheets."

"oh my god," your words are littered with laughter, exchanging small talk with the slowly darkening sky with the promise of a little one and a lifetime with johnny suh, the man who'd given you the stars and the moon if you'd asked.

[thegreatstoryteller]

The Great Shift: Nervous Friday

“Ok, I know the address, I borrowed my brother’s car, and I’m gonna make a great first impression!” Clarence said to himself as he typed out his itinerary for the night. 

The great shift had landed the anxious young man in the body of his dreams! Tallest guy in his building, strongest guy in the city, and not too bad on the eyes! However, none of these changes removed how nervous Clarence got when it came to anything social. He swore that right after college he’d learn to open up and and actually make some new friends. Before he would make excuses like “No one wants to be friends with a nerd like me” or “It’s not like any guys wanna talk to an adult who still has pimples”. 

Now he had no excuse. Every self deprecating comment he had about his new body was quickly countered. “You’re 6′8 and jacked! No one will mess with you. Not to mention you’ll be catching everyone’s eyes showing off that new body!” were the last words his brother said before tossing him his keys. 

He just hoped that he wouldn’t mess it up. He was a jaw dropping stud now after all what did he have to be nervous about? Unfortunately for Clarence, as soon as he tried to muster up that confidence he quickly thought of countless ways things could go wrong.  

One moment he’s ordering a drink, the next he’s knocking over someone’s class with his wide arms. He stands to apologize and his seat falls over tripping the waiter nearby. When he tried to help the waiter up, he wasn’t sure of his own strength and nearly brought the young man to his face for a kiss!

Clarence was so embarassed. The redness from his cheeks forever obscured by his constant 5 o’clock shadow luckily couldn’t be seen!

However, one look at Clarence and no one was mad. The man who’s drink he spilled offered to buy him a new one. The waiter who he tripped blushed when their lips nearly touched. Maybe this wouldn’t be such a bad Friday after all.

[tom-holland-parker]

I Hate You???

Summary: You’re convinced Bucky hates you. Bucky’s convinced you hate him. Steve is just tired of hearing you both complain and finally decides to set you both up

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!reader

Word count: 1569

Masterlist

You sat on the kitchen counter quietly eating your ice cream when Steve and Bucky walked in, whispering amongst themselves. It took a few seconds before they realized they weren’t alone, pausing when they saw you. Steve smiled, “y/n would you consider yourself a hateful person?” 

You tilted your head in confusion, Steve wasn’t known for asking weird questions out of the blue. You stood silent, trying to think of a good answer, “No really” You shrugged, “If anything, I think I’m too loving” 

Steve chuckled, turning to Bucky with a smirk. You glanced at Bucky, watching as he gave you an emotionless stare. You sighed as you hopped off the counter and walked out the kitchen. You hated the fact that Bucky hated you and to make it worse, you didn’t even know why he hated you. 

When you first met each other things seemed to go great. You guys got to know each other and joke around. Within those few months of getting to know each other you had developed a crush on the tall man. Which is why it hurt more when he stopped talking to you a few weeks after your first mission together. Whenever you walked into a room he would always find some excuse to leave, and when he couldn’t leave he would talk to everyone but you. Steve always said you were crazy whenever you mentioned it to him, but deep down you couldn’t believe him. A large part of you just knew that you liked a man who hated you.

As you walked out the kitchen Steve sighed, turning to Bucky, “I don’t understand what you’re talking about”. Bucky rolled his eyes, “She hates me, I just know it”

“The girl literally just said she has a problem of loving too much” Steve said as he grabbed a beer out the fridge, “In fact I think she has a crush on you”

Bucky let out a chuckled, grabbing a beer of his own, “No she definitely hates me, she won’t even look at me, she just walks away whenever she gets the chance”

Bucky leaned back against the counter, remembering the countless times you would walk out of the room when he was around. It really hurt him to know that the one person he’d had romantic feelings for in years, hated him. He sighed, finished his beer before getting up to walked out the kitchen, “It’s whatever, I’ll just find someone else”

Steve stared at his feet in concentration, trying to figure out ways to get the two of you together without actually spilling your secrets. He used to find it comically, how you both liked each other but thought the other person hated you. He would always find himself laughing whenever one of you mentioned it, but he became worried when he noticed how sad it was making you both. 

He smirked, coming up with a plan to get you two together. It was very simple actually, something straight out of a Romcom you forced him to watch. He just needed to wait for the right moment.

///

“Hey y/n remember when you asked me to teach you boxing” Steve said as he poked his head into your room. You looked up from your book, “Yeah” you said with a nod

“Well today’s the day so get dressed and meet me in the training room in about 10 minutes” he said, closing the door before you could respond.

As you got dressed Steve made his way to Bucky’s room, poking his head in without knocking, “Hey, Sam is planning on putting magnets and stickers all over your arm so you might want to get rid of his stickers before he gets the chance. He hides them in the training room” He said with a goofy smile as he walked shut the door. Bucky stared at the door in confusion but sighed, getting up from the bed to walk to the training room. 

Steve smiled to himself as he walked into the security room, watching from the cameras as you made your way downstairs. 

“Steve” You called out in confusion. You crossed your arms when you got no response, “Steve this isn’t funny I’m not wasting a new sports bra on your stupid jokes” you shouted as you looked around the room. 

Your head quickly turned when you heard the door open, your heart speeding up when you realized it was Bucky walking in. You stared at him in silence as he looked at you in confusion, “Where are the stickers?” He asked 

“What are you talking about?” You chuckled, “I'm supposed to -” you were interrupted when you heard a loud beep from the intercom. Steve chuckled quietly before clearing his throat, “You’re both probably wondering why I’ve bought you here today” He said through the intercom. You looked around the room at a loss for words. “Well it’s come to my attention that you both need to talk. So I've locked you both in here and you're going to stay in here until you talk things out. Think of it like a date" 

You let out a deep breath, frustrated with everything Steve was doing. Bucky sighed sitting on a bench against the wall. An extremely awkward tension filled the room, unsure who should talk first. The intercom beeped again, "I'm not seeing any talking. I could do this all day" 

You stared at the camera, sticking your middle finger to the screen. Your head turned as you heard Bucky chuckle, "What are we even supposed to be talking about?" He asked, crossing his arms 

"there's a bunch of things we could talk about" you shrugged, laying down in the mat, "he was never specific"

The intercom beeped again, "you need to talk about each other. Now stop wasting my time and start talking" 

You rolled your eyes, "piss off Tinkerbell"

"What happened to you not being a hateful person? You seem to be pretty hateful now" Bucky said with a smirk

"I don't appreciate being locked in a room against my will" You said not bothering to look at him. "Why are you here anyway? Thought that arm of yours could break through these glass doors" 

"It can but who says I want to leave?" He said as he got up, laying next to you. You chuckled, "oh so now you want to spend time with me"

His brows furrowed in confusion, "what are you talking about?"

You sat up slightly, propping yourself up on your elbows, "you haven't spoken to me in months. You constantly ignore me and alway look emotionless when you're around me. As if I suck all the life from you"

He head turned towards you quickly, "what are you talking about? You've been doing that to me"

"No I haven't. You've been acting like this since we got back from that mission we did" You rolled your eyes, it made you even more mad that the butterflies in your stomach fluttered every time he talked.

He scoffed, "that's not tr-"

"Bullshit and you know it" you interrupted, "I just don't get it. Why?"

"Why what?" He raised his voice slightly, clearly getting frustrated. You assume it was due to your attitude, however it was actually the fact that his heart was skipping a beat with every word you spoke. 

"Why do you hate me?" Your voice practically cracked from your frustration.

He remained quiet, all words seemed to disappear as shock took over his face, "I hate you? I thought you hated me. Do you know how hurt I was when I realized the one girl I've liked in years hated me?" It was terrible and now you think I hate you" he rambled, unaware of the words coming out his mouth. It took a few seconds for him to realize exactly what he said

Your eyes widened, "You can't be serious right now" you let out a stressed chuckle, "you're telling me that I've had a crush on you for months and you thought I hated you. I baked you a cake on your fucking birthday and you thought I hated you"

You wanted to pulled all your hair out at how stupid you sounded. The room fell silent again as thoughts took over both your minds. It was a few minutes later when Bucky spoke first. "I'm sorry" he said with a sigh as he ran his fingers through his hair. "I didn't even realize I was doing that. It's my first time having these kinds of feelings after years of being numb and alone. I just thought that if I hid them and ignore you then they would go away"

You slowly sat up, your eyes never leaving him, "I'm sorry too. I should've made an effort instead of just jumping to the conclusion that you hated me"

The room fell silent again, the two of you had not else to say but couldn't stop staring at each other. Both wonder where you go from here. 

You sighed, "Bucky-"

"Do you want to go on a date with me?" He interrupted. You were taken aback by his words, not expecting such bluntness.

"Yes" you chuckled, "preferably one where Steve doesn't listen to everything we say the entire time"

The intercom beeped, Steve's laughter filling the room, "you guys could've left at any moment. These doors don't have a lock".

[sunflowervolvimp3]

changes (best friend!harry)

Warnings: language, nsfw content, drugs (marijuana) and alcohol

Pairing: best friend!Harry x reader

Word Count: 17k (holy shit)

A/N: So this started as two requests I had in my inbox that I got way too into and then it became this. this may be the longest stand-alone fic I’ve ever written, and it, like watermelon sugar, is dedicated to touching!!!! I spent so long on this so as always. feedback is appreciated. and if you like it, please reblog it!!! reblogging is the best way to show fic writers your appreciation <3

{masterlist}

Unless she’s reminded otherwise, Y/N always thinks of herself as a teenager.

This, of course, isn’t true. She turned twenty-six a month ago, works as a media producer for an online clothing company, and lives alone in a one bedroom apartment in London.  However, unless she physically has something in front of her to remind her of her real age and the passing of time, Y/N disregards this information.

Usually, the reminder is a bill in the mail, or a phone call to remind her that she needs to book an appointment with her doctor.  Usually, the reminder is an ache in her back, her glasses prescription getting worse, or realizing that she has no idea what her teenage cousins are talking about when she sees them at Christmas.  Usually, the reminder is enough to give her pause, but not enough to throw her for a loop.

This time, however, the reminder is her childhood best friend naked in her bathroom.

Y/N and Harry had been friends since they were in primary school, after Y/N had moved to London with her mother.  Their new house just happened to be next to Harry’s, and Anne and Y/N’s mother had quickly hit it off.  Anne had been quick to volunteer her son to be Y/N’s tour guide at school, and despite not being enthusiastic about each other in the beginning, the two began to grow closer by the end of Y/N’s first week there.  Within a month, the two were inseparable, and that didn’t change as they entered their teen years, started secondary school, and Harry left London to become a member of the most famous boyband in the world.  Just typical teen things.

However, despite their distance, Y/N and Harry had remained as close as ever.  They constantly texted, called, and video chatted with each other, and Y/N even joined Harry on tour a few times (with permission from her mother).  Although both of them had been worried when Harry left, their worries and fears never came to fruition.  Just as they balanced each other in personality, they balanced each other in lifestyle—when Y/N needed a break from high school and university, Harry brought her to shows, award ceremonies, and parties, and when Harry felt like his fame was overwhelming, Y/N sent him reminders of home, hosted countless movie nights for him, and told him story after story of university life.

They were so perfectly matched that, when they were younger, many people—and tabloids—suspected that they were dating.  Even their mothers had asked them, on occasion, if one of them had any interest in the other.  However, their answers were always the same.  Y/N and Harry were best friends, and nothing more.  Sure, they were touchy, affectionate, called each other pet names, and had even kissed on a few occasions during truth or dare at parties, but none of it actually meant anything.  Y/N had watched Harry grow from a cute kid to an awkward teen to a self-assured man, and her feelings for him had never changed, and an attraction to him had never developed.

Until now.

Harry’s facing away from her, his towel in his hand as he dries his chest.  His entire body glistens with water from the shower.  Y/N can’t stop herself from letting her eyes canvas over every inch of his smooth arms, toned back, down lower to his—

Her breath catches in her throat.  Yeah. His ass is toned, too, she thinks to herself, and only has another moment to think that she shouldn’t be looking before Harry glances over his shoulder, alarmed by the small sound she had made.

“Y/N—” His eyes widen a bit, but he doesn’t make an effort to cover himself with his towel very quickly.

Her eyes automatically follow his movement for a moment before she realizes what she’s about to see. “Sorry!” Y/N turns around quickly, her face heated. “Sorry, I—the door was unlocked, I didn’t realize you were—”

“It’s fine.” Harry fixes his towel around his waist. “Don’t worry about—”

Y/N leaves the bathroom before he can finish his sentence, walking to her bedroom quickly and shutting the door tightly behind her.

Harry, it seems, is today’s reminder that she’s no longer a teenager, because his body is that of a man.

It’s not like you haven’t seen him shirtless before, she tells herself, walking to her dresser to pick out a change of clothes.  Y/N’s seen him half naked countless times.  The whole world has seen Harry half naked countless times.  But she’s never seen him like that.

When did Harry grow up? Somehow, between movie nights and pool parties and going away to school, Y/N had failed to notice that her childhood best friend is no longer a child.  Harry had grown into his features, developed muscles in his arms and chest, tattooed designs all over his skin, and had become an incredibly attractive adult without her noticing.

Y/N pulls her pajamas off quickly, stopping to glance at herself in her full length mirror.  She, like Harry, is also no longer a child. She had grown into her features like he had, had gotten a few tattoos, made her share of mistakes, and became an adult the same way he did.  Neither her nor Harry’s growth had happened overnight.

As she runs her hand between her chest, down her stomach, brushing her hip, Y/N can’t help but wonder: has Harry noticed that they’ve grown up?  Does he still look at her and see the shy little girl, the developing teenager, or does he look at her and see a grown woman?  Is she the only one who’s been late to the party?

Y/N feels a flutter in the pit of her stomach.  Is it possible that, at some point, Harry looked at her and had the same realization that she had a moment ago?  That not only had she grown into a woman, but that she had grown into an attractive woman?

The sound of the bathroom door opening distracts Y/N from her thoughts, and she hurries to finish getting dressed.  Her shirt, she finds when she pulls it on, smells a bit like Harry’s cologne, as she had set it on the side of the bed that he slept on the night before.  She likes it more than she should.

After she’s dressed, she debates just staying in her bedroom to avoid facing Harry again for a bit longer. However, she can hear him working her coffee maker in the kitchen, and knows she can’t hide in her bedroom like a child.  She isn’t a child.

Neither is he, she thinks to herself as she touches her bedroom doorknob. Which is the problem.

Still, Y/N shakes herself from her thoughts and walks out to her kitchen.

Harry, now dressed in wide leg jeans and a plain white t-shirt, is leaning against her kitchen counter, a cup of coffee in his hand.  His hair is still wet from his shower, but other than that, he looks normal. Completely normal.

And yet, Y/N can’t manage to meet his eyes.

“Good morning.” Harry’s voice is low, a bit of amusement in it as he notices her demeanor. “How did you sleep?”

“Fine.” Y/N hates how tight her voice is as she grabs a mug from the kitchen cabinet. “I slept fine. Did you?”

Harry nods, his eyes still tracing her every move as her own eyes avoid him. “I did.  Woke up a bit early, though.  Thought I’d shower before brunch.”

Right.  Brunch.  They’re having brunch that day with a few old friends, at a place just down the street from Y/N’s apartment, which is why Harry had stayed over the night before.  Y/N was going to have to act normal around their other friends, which means she can’t avoid looking at him for much longer.

“I’m sorry.” She says as she pours a cup of coffee. “I am, I—I should’ve knocked.  I forgot you slept over, and—”

“It’s fine, Y/N.  I should’ve locked the door.” Harry says easily, the corner of his lips tugging up. “It’s not a big deal.  Besides, it’s not like you haven’t seen me naked before.”

At that comment, Y/N pauses. “Except…I haven’t seen you naked before?”

Harry shakes his head adamantly. “No.  You have. There’s no way we’ve been friends for almost twenty years, and you haven’t.”

“Harry, believe me. I’ve seen you in a lot of weird positions over the years, but I’ve never seen you completely nude.” Y/N feels her regular ease with him begin to return, just a little bit. “I would remember that.”

“Would you?” Harry cocks an eyebrow, his coffee cup half raised to his lips.

The bit of ease that returned disappears immediately. “I—” Y/N’s cheeks heat up again. “Shut up, you know what I meant.”

Harry tries to hide his laugh behind his coffee, but fails. “I’m just teasing you, love.  It’s fine, promise.  I don’t mind that you saw.  I’m very comfortable in my body.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Too comfortable, I think.”

“Is there such a thing as being too comfortable in your body?” Harry asks in a teasing voice, crossing his arms.

“When your best friend walks in on you naked and you don’t bother to cover yourself?” Despite the blush on her cheeks, Y/N manages to laugh. “Yes.  There is.”

“I don’t know…” Harry finishes his coffee and sets the mug in the kitchen sink. “It sounds like there’s issues with your comfort, not mine.”

Before Y/N can form a reply, Harry shoots her a smirk and walks out of the kitchen.

For the rest of the day, Y/N does her best not to think about that morning’s awkward encounter. Brunch with her friends is normal, and she just lets herself enjoy having Harry home, and catching up with everyone.  The afternoon also passes in an unremarkable way, as does that night.  Over the next few days, however, things begin to change.

Within two weeks, the atmosphere of the country has shifted.  There’s a virus that’s highly contagious and can be fatal, Y/N’s work tells her to work from home, and soon the entire country is being told to stay home to avoid catching Coronavirus.

And then Harry texts her two days later, without any warning or leeway for her to disagree.

I’m on the last flight back to London.  Pack a bag and bring some groceries to my place, so we can isolate together.  You’ll go crazy alone in your flat.

Y/N tries to reply that it’s not necessary, but her message doesn’t go through.  Harry’s already on the plane.  So she does what he says, and packs a bag of clothes, her work bag, some alcohol, and her favourite snacks, and drives over to his house.

Letting herself in with her key, Y/N begins to bring the house back to life.  She lights Harry’s candles and orders some dinner, as well as groceries for the next couple weeks.  She makes sure she gets his favourite foods, and the weird snacks that only he likes.  She calls her mum to tell her she’ll be with Harry, and Anne, to tell her the same thing. And then she waits.

When Harry finally walks through the front door, he looks more like the tired seventeen year old on his first tour than the grown man she had seen a few weeks ago.  The bags under his eyes are evidence of his jetlag and stress, his jacket is rumpled from the plane, his hair just as messy, and he looks like he could collapse the second the door closes behind him.

“H.” Y/N walks towards him and gives him a tight hug.  One hand goes to his back and the other to his hair, playing with it as she always does. “Are you alright?”

“Long flight.” Harry mutters in reply, eyes closed as he holds her tight. “Everyone’s going insane in the States.  I’m lucky I got a flight back to London.”

“Why did you?” Y/N pulls back, brushing his messy hair from his eyes. “You could’ve stayed in LA.”

“Yeah, but…” Harry shrugs a bit. “I knew you’d be alone.  And I wanted to be with you.”

Y/N can’t help the soft smile that creeps onto her face. “C’mon.  I have dinner ready.”

Harry barely makes it through dinner with his eyes open, but still insists on watching a movie after. Y/N tries to tell him that he should just go to sleep, but he won’t hear it.

“We can watch it in my bed, like we used to when we were little.” Harry gives her his best puppy dog eyes. “Please?”

Y/N shoves his shoulder. “You’re twenty-six.  Stop pouting to get what you want.”

“I’ll stop pouting when it stops working.”

Y/N laughs in spite of herself. “Fine, but shower first.  You smell like a plane.”

Of course, as predicted, Harry starts to drift to sleep within the first half hour of the movie. He slips down in the bed more and more, until his head is in Y/N’s lap completely.  Out of habit, Y/N begins to play with his damp curls, running her fingers through them at a steady pace as she watches the movie.

Harry’s breathing begins to even out as she does, and Y/N begins to pay more attention to him than the TV.  When they spend the night with each other, Y/N always falls asleep first.  It’s rare she gets to see him completely relaxed.

As much as she loves his green eyes, his eyelashes may be a close second.  They’re so long and dark that they almost make Y/N jealous.  And his cheeks…she brings one hand up to gently touch them.  They’re stubbled from his long day of travel, but the skin underneath feels soft. Despite having lost his baby fat years ago, there’s still a layer of tenderness in his body.

Y/N is so distracted by him that she doesn’t realize that she’s stopped playing with his hair, not until Harry speaks up.

“Why’d you stop?” His voice is groggy with exhaustion, lower, with a thicker accent.  His words slur together as well

“Hm?” Y/N hums in her throat in response. “I thought you were asleep.”

“Not really.” Harry’s eyes stay closed as he shifts his position a bit. “Will you play with my hair a bit longer?  Feels nice.”

The movie credits roll in the background as Y/N does what he says.  Harry sighs contently, relaxing back into her again.

Y/N turns the TV off, so the only light in the room comes from the moon through the open curtains. It shines over half of Harry’s face, catching the ends of his eyelashes.  Somehow, the moonlight makes his cheeks and lips even more pink.  

“You’re really pretty, y’know that?” Y/N says it absentmindedly, her fingers still combing through Harry’s curls.

“Thanks.” He has just enough energy to mumble a response. “’M, not as pretty as you, though.”

Y/N’s stomach flutters when he says it, so quiet that she’s not even certain she heard him correctly. “Liar.”

“’S true.” Harry’s reply is even less audible than before. “So pretty.”

If Harry was awake and more present in the conversation, Y/N might tease him.  She might try to make him blush, or roll his eyes, or laugh. Maybe, just maybe, she’d even ask him to elaborate, just enough that she could figure out what the fluttering in her stomach means.

But Harry is hardly awake right now.  And it wouldn’t be fair.

“Go to sleep, H,” is all Y/N says, shifting to lay down a bit more without pausing the movement of her fingers.

…

It takes Harry a few days to readjust to London time.  While Y/N spends her weekdays working from the kitchen table, Harry naps and fiddles with his guitar and journal.  While she can tell he’s working on something, Y/N can also tell that he’s not making much process.

A week after coming back from LA, Harry half stomps into the kitchen during the afternoon, frustration clear on his face as he opens the fridge and grabs an apple.  He bites into it angrily and leans against the counter, the irritation still on his face.

Y/N glances at him from behind her laptop. “Everything alright?”

Harry gives half a shrug. “Trying to write.”

“And how’s that going?”

“Fucking sucks.” Harry takes another bite of the apple. “I thought I’d feel more inspired, being at home and not having deadlines, but I can’t get anything out.  Not anything good, anyways.”

“I know the feeling.” Y/N sighs as she closes her laptop. “There’s been a huge surge in online orders, and my boss wants me to create more promo material, but it’s hard to focus on anything right now.”

Harry nods and glances out the window. “Doesn’t help that it’s a beautiful day, but we can’t go out.”

“We can go out.  We just can’t leave the property.” Y/N replies. “You have a giant backyard.  Why don’t you use it?”

“Yeah.  Maybe I’ll go for a swim.” Harry takes another bite of his apple. “You want to come?”

Y/N laughs a bit. “Unlike you, H, I have a real nine to five job.  I’m on the clock for another two hours.”

“After, then.” Harry tosses his apple core in the compost and gives her a grin. “I hope you packed that yellow bikini.”

Y/N crumples a piece of scrap paper in her hand and throws it at him. “Piss off.”

Y/N did, in fact, pack her yellow bikini.  However, when she’s changing from her clothes into a swimsuit, she chooses her blue bikini instead, just to have a bit of agency.  Every instinct in her is telling her to wear what Harry said to, and it’s a little concerning.  She’s never cared about dressing for him before, and she isn’t prepared to start.

Despite the different colour, Harry still grins from the edge of the pool when he sees her walk out. “Look at you.  Should’ve put you in the Watermelon Sugar music video.”

“Shut up.” Y/N sits on the edge of the pool, dangling her lets in the water.  Harry rests his head on his arms, his cheeky grin still on his face as he looks up at her.

“I’m serious.” He says innocently. “It was a fun day.  You really would’ve liked it.”

“Of course you thought it was fun; you had a bunch of beautiful girls fawning over you and feeding you fruit.” Y/N rolls her eyes from behind her sunglasses. “You’re such a narcissist.”

“All musicians are narcissists, love.  At least, the best ones are.” Harry’s grin grows as he pushes away from the ledge. “Are you going to just sit there and look pretty, or are you actually going to swim?”

“I’m going to tan.” Y/N leans her head back, enjoying the feeling of the warm sun.

Harry shakes his head. “No, sorry.  The pool is for swimming only.”

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

In hindsight, Y/N should’ve known what Harry was about to do.  She’s been friends with him long enough that she knows how his brain works. However, Y/N is enjoying the sun so much that she lets her guard down for one moment, and that one moment is all Harry needs.

She feels his hands grip her legs, and before she can stop him, he pulls her into the pool.  Her entire body submerges, and when she finally rises, gasping for air, the only thing she can hear is Harry’s snickering.

“You’re such an ass!” Y/N hits his shoulder hard, not caring about leaving a mark on him. “That’s not funny!”

“The pool is for swimming only.  I told you.” Harry can’t stop laughing long enough to make it through his sentence clearly. “Them’s the rules.”

“Them’s the rules.” Y/N repeats in a mocking voice, hitting him one more time. “You’re the worst.”

“Maybe, but you’re stuck with me.” Harry runs a hand through his wet hair. “At least until quarantine is done.”

“I should’ve stayed alone in my apartment.” Y/N mutters, tossing her wet sunglasses on the pool ledge. “Would’ve been so much more peaceful.”

“And boring.” Harry points out. “And you wouldn’t get to take relaxing swims like this!”

“Right.  Relaxing.” Y/N splashes him playfully. “Jerk.”

Harry just grins at you.

…

“Want one?”

Y/N glances at Harry as he packs loose marijuana into a wrapper, concentration clear on his face as he rolls it.

“You learn how to roll those in LA?” Y/N asks, taking a sip of her wine.

Harry chuckles lightly, his skin illuminated by the fire burning in front of them and the moon above them. “Yeah.  I’m not very good, though.  Usually I have somebody else to roll them for me.”

“So high maintenance.”

Another low laugh rolls out of Harry’s mouth. “Ha.  High maintenance.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, but an endearing smile is on her face. “It’s still illegal in the U.K., you know.”

“I doubt the police are going to break social distancing rules to arrest me for it.” Harry’s tongue pokes out of his mouth as he tries his best to roll the joint tightly.

Y/N watches as Harry brings the wrapper to his mouth, licking it lightly.  To her dismay, her attraction to Harry had yet to fade, and spending every moment of the day together wasn’t helping.

“I’m not an eighteen year old girl on your tour bus anymore, Harry.” Y/N raises her wine glass. “I drink red wine now.  I’m sophisticated.”

Harry snorts, his eyes flickering to her before looking back down at the joint. “Sophisticated, right. Like you didn’t do body shots off the bartender at your birthday party this year.”

Y/N’s cheeks burn. “Birthdays don’t count.”

“Neither did tour buses, and neither does my backyard in the middle of a pandemic.” Harry seals the joint as best he can. “You may have a fancy job now, but you’re still my Y/N.”

His Y/N.  That phrase ignites the now familiar flutter in her stomach and, over the last few days, her core.  Something about Harry identifying her as his drives Y/N insane, even if it’s nothing new.

“And what exactly does your Y/N do?” She manages to say after a moment.

“She doesn’t take shit from anyone.  She gets drunk fast and high faster.  She’s always down for a laugh.  And, although she won’t admit it, she has a tendency to make bad decisions that she tries to suppress, but can’t always manage to do so.” Harry sparks his lighter and sticks the joint between his lips, lighting it and puffing it quickly.

“Then you should know that your Y/N can’t have a joint of her own.” Y/N steals the joint from Harry’s lips, taking a few puffs of her own from it before handing it back.

The smoke curls in her lungs, forcing a few coughs from her.

“Alright?” Harry asks, concern in his eyes.

Y/N nods, her hand pressed to her chest like she can stop the burn. “Yeah.  Just haven’t done that in a while.”

“You always cough so much. It would be cute if it wasn’t so bloody concerning.” Harry says casually, lifting the joint to his lips and inhaling.

Y/N watches as he exhales smoke slowly.  She wonders if she looks as attractive as he does when she blows out smoke.

Harry grins at her with just the corner of his mouth, like there’s a secret tugging at the edge of his lips.

Y/N really doubts it.

“Here.” Harry places the joint between her lips. “Inhale slowly.”

Y/N does as he says, doing her best to keep from coughing until the joint and his hand is away from her face.  Her eyes burn a bit, both from the smoke and the oncoming high that’s starting to twist through her body.

“That’s a good girl.” Harry praises her before leaning back, placing the joint back between his own lips. “You’ve gotten better at that.  Thought you were going to pass out the first time we smoked, remember?”

“I remember I almost did.” Y/N giggles to herself as she settles down into the couch more. “I coughed so much that I thought I was going to die on that tour bus.”

“Niall was certain you had.” Harry laughs too, and Y/N known they’re both playing back the same memory. “Wasn’t quite sure how we were going to explain that one to Paul.  Neither was I, honestly.”

“You don’t give me enough credit.” Despite the feeling coming over her, YN still takes another sip of her wine. “I was fine.”

Harry nods as he finishes the joint, setting the butt down into his ash tray. “Still…we had some fun nights on the bus when you were there.”

“That was a fun summer.” Y/N agrees, her eyes fixed on the fire before them. “Lots of good memories.”

As Y/N watches the fire, Harry watches her.  He lets another moment or two pass before speaking again.

“When you were on tour with us that summer…” He rubs his lips absentmindedly. “You and Niall.  Did you two ever…?”

“What?  Fuck?” The weed and the alcohol take away the careful tone of Y/N’s regular speech, leaving honesty and bluntness behind.

Harry laughs once. “I was going to say date, but yeah.  I guess so.”

“We didn’t date. We fooled around a few times.” Y/N shrugs, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “He was fun.  But we both knew it wasn’t anything serious, just something to do while I was on tour with you.”

Harry nods a bit, reaching for his own drink and taking a sip.  Y/N watches the movement with heavy lidded eyes.  His arm muscles flex underneath his tattooed skin when he moves, and the way his fingers wrap around his glass is fascinating to her.

“I figured he would have told you.” Y/N pulls her sweater around her tighter.  Now that the sun has set completely, a chill has appeared. “You guys always talked about girls together.”

“No, he didn’t tell me. And I didn’t ask.” Harry keeps his glass in his hand, looking down at it with an unreadable expression. “I thought you might tell me, but you didn’t, either.”

The substances in Y/N’s system are clouding her mind, but she does her best to focus on Harry’s words. As a way to ground herself, she pulls her sweater away from her body, hoping that the cold air will help.

“I’m sorry.” She says slowly, like it takes all her effort to get the words out. “I didn’t mean to…hurt your feelings.”

“You didn’t.”

“Oh.” Confusion fogs Y/N’s mind. “Then…why is it bothering you?”

“It’s not bothering me.” Harry denies, finishing off his drink. “I was just wondering why.  You usually tell me everything.  You always have.”

Y/N bites her lip. “I don’t tell you about every person I sleep with.”

Harry hums low in the back of his throat, but offers no other response.

After a few minutes, Y/N stands up. “I think I’m going to head to bed.”

Twisting his empty glass around in his hands, Harry nods. “Alright.  I’ll be up in a little bit.”

“You know, you have a guest room.” Y/N pauses, fiddling with the bottom of her sweater.  Her skin feels unsettled, and the fabric against it isn’t helping. “I should probably start using it.  Social distancing, and all that.”

Harry looks up at her, a stubborn look reflecting in his eyes. “No.  I sleep better with you beside me.”

When Harry finally comes up to bed an hour later, Y/N is still awake, eyes closed, with her back away from the door and head toward the wall.  She doesn’t turn over when she hears the door creak open, and instead just listens to the rustling sounds of Harry changing, going to the bathroom, washing his hands, and returning to the bedroom.

Y/N feels his weight on the bed, but doesn’t hear him slide in next to her.  Instead, she does her best to stay completely relaxed when she feels his fingers brush against her hairline, pushing back a few loose strands.

Staying completely relaxed, it turns out, is easier thought than done.  The moment Harry touches her, Y/N feels the nerves in her face burst to life. It’s like electricity, like nothing she’s ever felt before from any previous touches from Harry.  Behind her closed eyes, Y/N feels her head spinning, but she’s certain it must be the weed and the alcohol in her system.

Finally, the sheets are pulled back, and Harry gets under the covers.  He pulls Y/N back against him, and Y/N can feel the hot skin of his chest pressed against her shoulders.  Harry takes a moment to adjust before sighing, almost in content, and then he presses a gentle kiss to the back of her shoulder.

The tender action leaves Y/N speechless.  The action itself isn’t new; they had always been very physically affectionate with each other.  But there’s something about the moment that Y/N can’t quite place a finger on. Perhaps she would be able to if she was sober, or less tired, but with her brain in its current state, the words she needs are lost, and she’s certain she won’t remember the feeling in the morning.

Harry inhales deeply, his nose buried in her hair, and sighs again.  Y/N can feel him relaxing back against her, but his arms stay wrapped around her tightly.  It’s a comforting embrace, and makes it easy for Y/N’s mind to finally quiet and drift off.

…

“You’re still working?”

Y/N looks up from her laptop to see Harry standing above her, sweaty from his workout.  His hair is tied up in a little ponytail on top of his head, and he has a towel wrapped around his shoulders that he uses to wipe sweat from his face.  His body is literally glistening in the sunlight, and Y/N suddenly finds it very hard to focus on her work.

“I am.” She says finally, closing the lid of her laptop and stretching out on the beach chair. “Or I was. I’m done for today.”

“Good.” Harry sits down on the chair next to her. “I’m going to have a shower, but I was thinking we should try baking something later.”

Y/N raises an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because I want cupcakes, and homemade are way better than store bought.” Harry says easily, stealing Y/N’s water and taking a gulp from it.

Y/N watches his throat move as he swallows the water, how his Adam’s apple bobs, how he licks his lips when he finally pulls the glass away from his mouth.

Y/N’s own mouth suddenly feels very dry.

“Alright, yeah.” Y/N nods weakly. “We can bake something later.  It’ll be fun.”

…

“It’ll be fun.” Y/N shakes her head in disbelief. “God, I can’t believe I said that.”

“It was fun!” Harry argues, holding up a red velvet cupcake. “And we did it!”

“And we made a mess.” Y/N gestures to the kitchen around them, which looks like a warzone.  Flour, powdered sugar, and cocoa powder cover every counter surface.  There are broken eggshells on the counter, splatters of batter everywhere, and both Y/N and Harry have dyed red hands from food colouring.

“It could be worse.” Harry shrugs, clearly untroubled. “C’mon.  Try a cupcake.”

Y/N reaches for one, but Harry simply lifts the one in his hand to her mouth.  She locks eyes with him as she takes a bite, the icing smearing across her top lip.

Y/N chews slowly and swallows hard. “Yeah.  They’re good.”

Harry extends a hand, and his finger runs along her lip, collecting the icing.  He pops it into his mouth, sucking for a moment before humming in agreement. “Yeah.  Sweet.”

The cupcakes, it turns out, pair well with watermelon cocktails, and soon Y/N and Harry are sitting on the couch, takeout and cupcakes in front of them and drinks in their hands as they giggle and talk.  They’re intoxicated, but not just from the alcohol in the strong drinks that Harry makes.

“Honestly, working from home isn’t ideal, but it’s not that bad.” Y/N pops a bite of food into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “Definitely not the worst part of quarantine.”

“Yeah?” Harry leans back on the couch. “What’s the worst part?”

Y/N shrugs. “It sucks being away from people, cooped up inside.”

Harry nods, but his face looks wistful. “I miss sex.”

Y/N laughs, but she nods in agreement as well. “Fuck, I know.  I miss sex so much.”

“It’s nice, you know? A good way to burn some energy…always sleep so well after…” Harry sighs, taking a sip of his drink between his phrases. “I feel like I’m back on a tour bus again, with no one around but my hand.”

A giggle escapes Y/N’s mouth. “How tragic.” She also takes a sip of her drink, and tries to stop herself from making a face.  Harry really does make them strong. “I just miss touching.  I haven’t been this touch starved since I was seventeen.”

Harry makes a scoffing noise in the back of his throat. “We touch.”

“That’s different.” Y/N finishes her drink. “That’s friendly touching.  It’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean, then?” Harry challenges her, a glint in his eyes that Y/N’s come to recognize as a sign of trouble.

She refuses to take the bait. “You know what I meant.”

“I don’t.” Harry says it innocently, and he reaches forward to take her glass from her. “How about I get us some refills while you think of how to say it?”

Y/N lets him take the glass (she loves his drinks, despite how strong they are), but shakes her head. “Stop being an ass.  You know exactly what I meant.”

A low laugh rolls out of Harry as he walks to the built-in bar he has in the lounge.  He begins to recreate the drinks, muddling this, adding a splash of that.  If Harry wasn’t already a rock star, she’d suggest he become a mixologist.

“Maybe I do know what you meant.” Harry shakes the cocktail shaker with ease before straining the liquid out over their glasses, which he’s filled with fresh ice. “But I want to hear you say it.”

Y/N runs a hand through her hair.  She feels warm from the alcohol, and the lit candles around them aren’t helping.  The food and cupcakes sit on the table, all but forgotten in their new conversation. “Say what?”

Harry’s lips pull up in a smirk, but his eyes show something else.  He walks back over and hands her the drink before taking a seat next to her again. “The kind of touching you miss.”

Their fingers touch as Y/N takes the glass from him, and suddenly the warmth of the room feels ten times hotter. “You want me to say it?”

Harry lifts his glass to his lips, but keeps his eyes on her. “I do.”

“I…” Y/N takes a sip of the drink (which is stronger than the one before) and then presses the cold glass to her cheek. “I miss touching.  Intimate touching.  And…being touched intimately.”  

Harry inhales deeply, stretching out his shoulders before responding. “Yeah.  I miss that too.  Holding hands, touching someone’s stomach, chest, legs…having them play with my hair…”

“I play with your hair.” Y/N says defensively, a crease appearing between her eyebrows.

Harry laughs once. “Right, but like you said…that’s different.”

Y/N clears her throat. “Right.”

Harry takes a long sip from his drink. “’S still nice, though.” Harry adds after a moment, licking his lips. “I love when you play with my hair.  You know that.”

Nodding softly, Y/N begins to trail a finger over the rim of her glass.  Whenever she begins to get tipsy, she begins to fidget more, and feel freer in her actions.  And when Y/N glances back at Harry, she can tell he recognizes the sign as well.

“What about you?” He asks, bringing her back from her thoughts. “What do you miss having people do?”

Y/N drinks again, pulling her knees to her chest as she leans against the couch’s armrest. “I miss…having my hair played with, too.  That’s always nice.  I miss having my fingers played with…neck kisses…I like when people, like, rub my arms or thighs, just absentmindedly…” She leans her head against her arm. “Your turn.”

“My turn?” Harry rubs his nose lightly, and Y/N can tell he’s feeling the alcohol, too. “What’s my turn?”

“Tell me what else you like.” Y/N smiles softly, a small laugh just barely bubbling out from her. “We’ve never actually talked about it, H.  Isn’t that strange?”

Harry turns to face her more, pausing to think for a moment. “I suppose we’ve never been specific before, yeah.” He taps his thumb against his H ring. “I like being in control, usually. Telling them what to do, where to touch me…” His eyes get a faraway look in them. “But sometimes it’s nice to give up control.  Have someone else…”

“Decide.” Y/N finishes his sentence for him when he trails off. “Yeah.  I’m more like that, I think.  I usually let someone else decide.  But I like the in-between, too.  Like…both exploring each other.”

“What do you mean?” Harry cocks his head to the side curiously.

Y/N shrugs loosely, her finger still tracing her glass. “’S hard to explain.”

Harry’s voice is low when he replies, almost like he’s somewhere else. “Try.”

“Well…” Y/N takes a drink before setting her glass down. “It’s like…do you remember your first time?”

Harry blinks, surprised at the question, but nods. “Yeah.  I do.”

“And remember how nervous you were?”

“Yeah.”

“And like…” Y/N plays with her fingers as she ponders her next words. “You were nervous, yeah, but there was also this excitement in you.  Kind of like…a breathlessness.  And you looked at the other person and knew they…”

Harry closes his eyes for a moment. “Felt the same.”

“Yeah.” Y/N tucks her hair behind her ears. “And just, like, being comfortable with them, and knowing you could both explore, and ask questions, and you were both together…” Y/N feels heat rise to her cheeks as she trails off. “I don’t know.  I feel like that’s rare, but I—it’s nice.  I like it.”

“Yeah.” Harry rubs his thumb over his lip as he shifts his position on the couch. “It’s nice, yeah. Rare, usually.  But nice.”

“I think it’s rare, because, like—” The alcohol makes it harder for Y/N to gather her thoughts, but also harder to sensor them. “I don’t know, I feel like when I was younger, and hadn’t had sex yet, I took more time with, like, finding the right person? Like I wanted it to be with someone who loved me for the first time, and someone I was comfortable with, and it was. And then after, the love part didn’t matter so much for me.” Y/N glances at Harry, who seems to be hanging on her every word. “Which, like, was fine.  What mattered to me the most was that whoever I had sex with respected me. And they did, so that was…good. But it’s different.” Y/N rubs her arms. “I don’t know if that makes sense…”

“It does.” Harry assures her, placing a light hand on her knee.  He begins to rub small circles. “Keep going.”

“I just think that, like, that in-between, breathless, exploring each other kind of thing…the comfort…that’s rare because it only really happens with someone you love.” Y/N murmurs. “At least, that’s how it is for me.  And I haven’t really been in love much in my life.”

“I’ve been in love probably too much.” Harry admits, his hand still on Y/N’s knee. “Too much to be good for me.”

Y/N shakes her head adamantly. “No, H.  That’s good. That’s…brave.  You’re not afraid of how you feel.  Most people are.”

“Maybe.” Harry finishes his drink again with one long gulp.  

Y/N watches as he does, seeing a little drip of liquid slip from the corner of his mouth.  She can’t stop herself from leaning forward and wiping it away with her thumb, feeling the stubble of Harry’s chin scratch against her.

Harry watches her with hooded eyes as she leans back to her previous position.  His hand slips a bit higher, from her knee to her lower thigh, but she doesn’t say anything.

“Who have you been in love with?” He asks.  His words are slurred a bit, and his accent seems thicker.

“My first boyfriend, Parker. You remember him.” Y/N sighs, closing her eyes as she herself remembers. “And…Christian, from university.  We were together for two years.  That’s it, I think.”

Despite the alcohol, Harry’s face still shows some surprise. “Really?  No one else?  No one since Christian?”

Y/N shrugs. “I’ve dated, yeah, and had relationships, but…I don’t know.  I didn’t love any of them.  I was…infatuated.  But I never…it was intense, but like—intense like a spark.  Nothing prolonged.”

Harry hums in response. “Thought you were going to say Niall for a moment.  He was pretty torn up when you went back to school after that summer.”

Y/N’s face mimics Harry’s surprise from a moment ago. “Was he?”

“Yeah.  Moped around a bit, spent time by himself, on his phone every two minutes…” Harry’s expression shows the difficulty it’s taking him to think back eight years while drunk. “I knew it was because you left.  Thought you two had an…agreement, or something.”

“An agreement?” A giggle escapes Y/N. “This isn’t a Jane Austen book, Harry.  We didn’t have an agreement.” Once she gets her laughter out, she sighs. “He was that upset?”

“Yeah.” Harry scratches the back of his neck. “So I thought…he must be in love with you.  And you were…”

“No, I wasn’t.” Y/N says softly. “He was so upset that you thought he was in love with me?”

“Yeah.”

Y/N bites her lip. “Was he more upset than you?”

Harry takes a moment to reply, looking at her with a serious expression.  His lips are so red, and his eyes are so green, and both of them are so drunk that neither of them can sense the meaning behind what they’re saying.

“No.” Harry finally responds. “He wasn’t.”

…

“Good morning.”

“Shhh.” Y/N covers her eyes with her arm. “Don’t yell in my ear.”

“I whispered.” Harry counters, but his voice is a bit quieter this time. “Do you have a headache?”

“I didn’t know something flavoured with watermelon could make me feel so shitty.” Y/N groans a bit, shifting on the bed without opening her eyes. “What did you do to me?”

When Harry laughs, it’s not audible, but Y/N can feel it through his chest pressed against her side.

“How are you completely fine right now?” She asks, rubbing her eyes.

“I’m used to it.  I’ve always been way better with hangovers than you.” Harry presses a small kiss to her shoulder before getting up. “How does breakfast in bed sound?”

“Normally amazing, but I can’t eat right now.” Y/N mutters. “How about coffee in bed?”

“Sure.” Harry smiles a bit. “You look cute like this.”

“Shut up.”

Harry returns ten minutes later with a tray of coffee, toast, and eggs, of which he manages to coax Y/N to take a few bites.  She doesn’t really want it, but she knows it’s easier to do as he says instead of arguing.

“How about we have a movie day today?” Harry suggests after breakfast. “In bed, since it seems like you won’t be moving anytime soon.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Y/N glares at him from the top of her coffee cup.

Harry raises his hands in defense. “Hey, I didn’t make you drink.  You chose to.”

“I know, but it’s easier to blame you.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Is that why you’ve been doing it for twenty years?”

“Exactly.”

Harry carefully lifts the empty tray to the ground before holding up the remote. “You can pick the movies.”

Y/N bites her lip. “If we watch Titanic, will you make fun of me when I cry?”

“Of course not.  I’ll even cry with you out of solidarity.”

“Alright.” Y/N settles back into the blankets. “Put it on, then.”

It’s easy for them to be like this, Y/N thinks, as Harry pulls her into his arms when the movie starts. It’s always been so natural for them to be physical and affectionate with each other.  They’ve never acted any other way.

Except this doesn’t feel like any other way.

Yes, Y/N has watched countless movies while cuddling in bed with Harry.  But has he ever whispered in her ear like that before?  Has he ever rubbed her sides so carefully before? Has he ever let his lips rest on the bare skin of her shoulder, almost at the base of her neck?

Y/N can’t recall. However, she’s certain that if he had, it hasn’t felt so electric.

“Look at them.  Look at how Jack watches her.” Harry murmurs his words directly in Y/N’s ear as they watch Jack draw Rose.  Y/N can feel his lips brushing against her, and the heat of his breath and tone of his voice makes her shiver.

“She’s very pretty.” Y/N nods, shifting in Harry’s arms.  She likes how warm he feels.

“I suppose, but that’s not what I meant.” Harry traces shapes on her arm. “I meant look at how he looks at her.  Do you think they have the kind of love you talked about last night?”

Y/N glances over her shoulder at him, surprised he remembers their conversation. “I think so.  Do you?”

“Yeah.” Harry says in a low voice.  He says no more, so Y/N turns back to face the television.

They continue to watch in silence, gripping each other a bit tighter as the Titanic begins to sink. As they watch a mother reading to her two young children in bed, Y/N begins to lose her composure, like always. Tears well in her eyes, and she lets out a quiet hitched breath, a single sniffle.

“It’s alright, love.” Harry’s hands move to her stomach, holding her tighter to comfort her. “Don’t cry.”

Y/N can hear the tears in his voice, just as they’re in her own. “Can’t help it.  This part and the band and the old couple in bed—they always get me.”

“I know.” Harry rubs his thumb along your side.

Y/N reaches behind her without turning around, threading her fingers through Harry’s messy curls.  She plays with them absentmindedly as she watches, and tries to ignore how right it feels to be close to him like this.  She wonders if he notices it, too.

Harry presses a chaste kiss to her shoulder.

…

The day they hit the one month mark of quarantine, Harry sits across from Y/N at breakfast with a determined look on his face.

“I have a proposition for you.”

Y/N glances up at him, her attention barely shifting from her book. “A proposition?”

“Yeah.”

“What kind of proposition?” Y/N tilts her head to the side.  What she first thought was just determination on Harry’s face, she realizes, is actually determination and mischief, and she knows it won’t end well.

“I haven’t had a tattoo in a while.” Harry steals a strawberry from Y/N’s plate. “And I have a machine here, so I was thinking you could give me one.”

Y/N stares at Harry incredulously as he pops the strawberry in his mouth. “Are you out of your mind?”

“Probably.”

“I’m a terrible artist, Harry.  You know that.” Y/N shakes her head. “And even if I wasn’t, I have no idea how to tattoo someone!”

“You can watch a YouTube tutorial, or read a WikiHow.” Harry sighs loudly. “I’m so bored in isolation!”

“What do you even want tattooed?” Y/N eyes the intricate tattoos on his arms suspiciously. “I doubt I could do something like your ship.”

“Something simple.” He shrugs. “Probably lettering.”

“Probably?” Y/N says suspiciously.

“That’s why I want you to do it.  I want it in your handwriting.”

Harry’s tone is easy, but it makes her breathing shallow.

“You do?”

“Yeah.  I was thinking of something to remind me of this time, because of how weird it is.”

Despite her increased heartbeat, Y/N laughs. “What, do you want me to tattoo COVID-19 on you?”

“No.  Be a little more creative than that.” Harry scoffs.

“Why do I have to be creative?”

“Because I want you to decide what I get.”

Y/N’s eyes widen. “You’re not serious.”

“I am!  Why is that so hard to believe?” Harry asks. “I trust you. And you’re good with words.”

“No.  Absolutely not.”

…

“Make sure my drink has two shots in it.” Y/N calls to Harry as she looks over the tattoo supplies on the living room table.

Harry laughs. “I’m not sure I want my tattoo artist to be drunk.”

“The only way I’ll even be your tattoo artist is if I’m drunk.” She counters. “I still think this is an awful idea.”

Harry hands Y/N a tall glass with a light pink liquid in it. “Drink this, and you’ll change your mind.”

Y/N takes the glass and takes a large gulp, not focusing on the taste of the mixers, but the liquid courage behind them.

Harry grins, lifting his own glass. “Cheers.”

“Shut up and sit down.” Y/N mutters.  She ties her hair back before grabbing the disinfectant wipes. “Where do you want this?”

“My upper inner arm. I already shaved it for you.” Harry smirks as he points to the area, which is easily exposed in his loose tank top.

“And you’re sure I can write it with pen?” Y/N asks nervously as she disinfects the area.

“Mhmm.” Harry leans back comfortably in his chair. “What did you decide on?”

“It’s a secret.” Y/N uncaps the pen, getting closer to him.

“So I can’t know until after it’s on me permanently?”

“Is that a problem?” Y/N asks innocently. “I thought you trusted me?”

Harry chuckles. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

“Also that I’m good with words.” Y/N makes sure Harry’s head is turned away before she carefully writes the phrase she chose.  Then she snaps on gloves and starts the machine like she watched in videos early that day.

“You’re fine, love.” Harry assures her, seeing the nervous look on her face. “It’s a small tattoo. It’ll only take a few minutes.”

“Quiet.” Y/N mutters. “I need to focus.”

True to Harry’s word, the small tattoo only takes a few minutes to finish.  When it’s done, Y/N gives it one final wipe before setting the machine down and taking off her gloves.

“Alright.” She picks up her glass and drains it completely. “You can look.”

Harry peers at his arm, curiosity clear on his face.  There, in Y/N’s loopy handwriting is the phrase “touch me.”

“It looks so fucking good, Y/N.” Harry grins at her. “You did amazing!”

“I didn’t fuck it up?” She asks, chewing on her lip anxiously. “Is it alright?”

“You did a lovely job.” Harry smiles. “Wrap it for me?”

Y/N does as he asks, carefully wrapping the fresh tattoo in plastic wrap and taping it to his arm. “I think I’ll accept my tip in the form of another drink.”

Harry snickers. “Coming right up.”

Two drinks later, they’re both back in the honest and loose headspace that they’ve grown familiar with. It’s not enough that they’re unaware of their actions, but both Y/N and Harry know that their lips are looser because of the liquor in their systems.

They’ve migrated to the bedroom to get comfier, but took a few items from the bar with them.  It’s with these items that Harry tops up Y/N’s glass again as he speaks.

“So tell me…” He sets the cocktail shaker on his bedside table. “Why ‘touch me’?”

“You said you wanted something to remind you of isolation.” Y/N takes a long sip of her drink. “And that’s what we both miss the most, right?  Being touched?”

Harry nods slowly, his rings clinking against his glass. “Yeah.  I’m probably going to go straight to the bars after this is all done.  Find someone there.”

He laughs lightly, showing that what he says it half a joke, but Y/N sighs wistfully and shakes her head in disagreement. “I won’t.”

“You won’t?” Harry is surprised, his laughter fading. “Why not?”

Her shrug almost causes her to spill her drink on the bed. “I don’t know.” Y/N sighs again. “I don’t really—I’m not a hookup fan.  Not right now, at least.  It’s not what I…want.”

“What do you want, then?” Harry finishes his drink, but sets the glass down instead of refilling it. “If not sex?”

“I want sex.” Y/N says defensively. “But I want—I don’t want it to be someone random.  I want sex, but I want to be…intimate.  Like, I want to know that person cares about me, and I care about them.”

Harry licks the last of his drink from his lips. “Like that breathless feeling?”

“No.  It would be nice, but no.  That takes time.” Y/N brushes her hair behind her ear. “Just…someone who cares.  I don’t want a quick fuck, I just—”

“You want to be touched. Intimately touched.” Harry takes the empty glass from Y/N’s hand and sets it down on the table next to the bed.

Y/N nods gently, her limbs feeling loose. “Yeah.  Intimately touched.”

“You know, I could…” Harry trails off, pursing his lips. “We could…do that.”

The alcohol makes Y/N slow to recognize the meaning of his words. “What?”

“I’ve noticed you…the way you look at me, it’s…different than it was.” Harry says carefully, his eyes gauging her reaction. “For the last few weeks.  And I—I know that I’m…attracted to you, too.”

“We…” Y/N struggles to think of what to say as she finally registers what’s happening. “We’re friends.”

“I know, but that doesn’t mean I can’t see you as attractive.” Harry looks down at his hands. “Don’t you…?  I mean…”

“I—yeah.  I think you’re—” Y/N laughs a bit nervously. “You’re attractive, H, you know that.  We’ve just never…discussed it.”

“I’m not saying we have to fuck, or—we don’t have to do anything.” Harry straightens his shoulders and looks you in the eye. “Just—when we touch, it’s mild.  If you want to be touched intimately, we could…”

“Like, a hand job?” Y/N says slowly, her words blunt with confusion.

Harry goes a bit red, but he shakes his head quickly. “No, Christ, that’s not what I meant, I—just—can I show you?”

“Um,” Y/N swallows hard. “Sure.”

“Okay.” Harry nods slightly, taking carefully measured breaths. “If this feels weird, or anything seems wrong, just tell me to stop, alright?”

Y/N replies faintly. “Alright.”

Nodding again, Harry moves closer on the bed, sitting on his knees so he can get closer to Y/N, who sits cross-legged.  His hands rest lightly on her bare thighs, and his rings are a cool contrast to his warm skin.

Harry begins to rub his hands up and down her thighs slowly.  His movements are measured, and he watches Y/N’s reaction carefully for a sign of her disliking his actions.  However, what he finds is a nervous but interested girl staring back at him.

“Like this.  Like, what you like.” Harry says lowly.  His hands move more to her inner thighs, but they don’t creep higher. “And…”

“And…?” Y/N asks, her heart rate increasing even more.

Harry moves one hand to the hem of Y/N’s tank top, pushing it up a bit so his hand can rest on her waist. He rubs over her warm skin, marvelling in how smooth and soft it is to his touch.  His fingers graze the lace of her bra, but he goes no higher.

“How—how’s that?” Harry asks quietly.

“It’s, um, it’s good.” Y/N replies as she struggles to keep her voice normal. “Yeah.  Good.  But, um, can you…” Harry’s movements pause at her words, and Y/N feels her cheeks get even warmer. “Maybe touch my, uh, my neck.  If you’d like.”

Harry nods, and the hand on her thigh moves to her neck.  He traces his fingers across her shoulder and over her collarbone, delighting in feeling the curves of her body.  Y/N’s breath hitches when his fingers travel up her neck, and Harry swears he can feel her pulse increase under his fingers.

Y/N’s not sure if it’s the fact that she’s touch starved from self isolating that makes Harry’s touches feel so good, or if it’s the fact that it’s Harry touching her, but she doesn’t dwell on it.  Instead, she closes her eyes and tilts her head back, allowing him better access.

She feels Harry’s breath before she feels his lips, but she’s still surprised when she feels him begin to sponge light kisses across her neck.

“H…”

“Is this alright?” He asks the question right below her ear, and yet she can barely hear him because he’s so quiet.

“Yes.” Y/N breathes. “Yeah.”

“Good.” Harry returns to pressing light kisses to her skin, his hands still rubbing over her sides and hips.

For the first time since seeing Harry naked in her bathroom, Y/N can’t deny or explain away her attraction to him.  She can’t convince herself that she doesn’t want him to touch her, because she does, and she can’t tell herself that she doesn’t need him, because she does. Every fibre of her being is telling her that she needs Harry, and she needs him now.  Her heart is pounding, her skin is on fire, and her core feels like she’d going to explode if he doesn’t do something.  And yet, Y/N can’t tell him to touch her more.  She’s frozen, mind blank, and she can only register what Harry is doing at the moment as what she wants.

Harry continues to kiss her neck, never lingering too long in one spot, never sucking too hard. Every kiss is gentle and chaste, except the few rare ones that include the tip of his tongue running over her skin.

After what feels like an eternity, Harry pulls away from her neck, face flushed.  Despite his hands still on her body, Y/N makes an involuntary sound in the back of her throat.

“Is that better?” He asks lowly, rubbing his thumb against your hip.

“I—kind of.” Y/N says softly.  If anything, she thinks, it’s worse.  She needs to satisfy the burn inside her, but she doesn’t know how.

“Good.” Harry replies, but he doesn’t take his hands off her.

Y/N’s own hands have been sitting at her sides as his moved over her body, but she raises one now, as hesitant as Harry was.  She extends it towards his arm, but pauses with her fingers right over his skin.

“Is it okay if I…?”

The corner of Harry’s lips lifts up, just barely. “Yeah, love.  Go ahead.”

Harry’s skin is warm beneath her touch.  Y/N traces the outline of his mermaid tattoo carefully before moving onto others.  She loves how his arm curves under her touch, how he stays still and lets her explore.  She appreciates it, thinking that if Harry made any sudden movements, she’d force herself to pull away.

Soon, her fingers move from tracing his tattoos to tracing the lines of his muscles.  She moves down his forearm to his hand, running her fingers over the veins that show through his tan skin, over his knuckles, down the tips of his calloused fingers and back.  

Harry sucks in a breath, and Y/N’s trance flickers for a moment as her eyes move to his face to see what’s wrong.

“Sorry, just—surprised me.” Harry says, voice low yet sheepish.  He nods down to his thigh, where Y/N realizes her own hand is resting.

“Oh—” She moves to pull her hand away, but Harry places his own on top.

“It’s fine.” He says quickly. “Keep going.”

Y/N bites her lip as she turns her attention back to his arm.  Her fingers move slowly and carefully back up his forearm to his upper arm. She traces over his tattoos while she rubs her thumb gently against the muscle, and stops her fingers at the edge of his t-shirt sleeve.  With a quick glance at Harry, she pushes the sleeve up, tucking it up on his shoulder so she can run her fingers over his ship tattoo, which is one of her favourites.

“Feels nice.” Harry murmurs, his eyes following her movements.

Y/N glances back at his face, taking in his appearance.  His lips are red from the time he spent kissing her neck, and his cheeks are still flushed.  His eyes are darker than usual, and she’s not certain if it’s the candlelight or something else causing it.  There’s a light sheen of sweat on his forehead, with a few loose curls hanging down. Out of reflex, Y/N reaches up and pushes his hair back out of his eyes.

Before she can return her hand to his arm, Harry captures it in his own.  Y/N watches as he brings it to his lips, inhaling as her wrist passes underneath his nose.  Although she’s not sure why, there’s something about seeing how much smaller her hand is in Harry’s that delights her.

Harry presses a soft kiss to her wrist, following it up with another on her palm.  Y/N’s eyelids flutter at the tender sensation.

“It’s my turn to touch you.” She says softly, her voice strained.

Harry hums in reply. “I know.” He kisses your wrist once more before looking at you. “I’ll help.”

Lifting his hand from his thigh (your hand, which was underneath, stays where it is), he pulls up his shirt just enough that he can sneak your hand underneath.  He rests it on his lower chest, and even though his shirt is still partially covering him, Y/N knows she’s touching his butterfly tattoo.

“I like to be touched here.” Harry says in the same low voice.

“Okay.” Y/N bites her lip, her head swimming with alcohol and the smell of the candles and Harry’s cologne and Harry. “It…would be easier without your shirt.”

Without breaking eye contact, save for the moment fabric covers him, Harry pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it to the side. “Better?”

Y/N’s eyes drift down to his tanned stomach.  His body is familiar and a stranger to her all at once.  She knows his tattoos, scars, every mark on his skin from a distance, but seeing it like this—touching it like this—makes her feel like she’s never truly seen him before.

“Better.” She manages to say, her hand brushing across his ribs.

Y/N spends a while exploring the planes of his stomach, the contours of his body.  When she gets to his v-lines, and runs her fingers over the ferns tattooed there, Harry shivers a bit, his hand gripping her knee tighter.

Y/N massages his thigh gently. “Alright?”

“Yeah.” Harry clears his throat. “I’m good.”

“Okay.” Y/N nods, but moves her hand further up again, over his chest and over his collar bones.  She takes a moment to trace the lines of his neck, feel the beat if his pulse underneath her fingers, and then tangles her fingers in his hair.  She uses the leverage to tilt his head back a bit, and presses her lips to the base of his neck.

Harry’s cologne smells better up close, and Y/N adores the heat of his skin on her sensitive lips. She presses small kisses over the curve of his neck, pausing over his jugular.  Her tongue darts out and she carefully licks along it before ending the motion with a kiss.

“Christ…” Harry exhales slowly, the tips of his fingers digging into her knee slightly.

Y/N knows they’re crossing the threshold of just touching each other for the sake of touching.  She can feel herself dripping in her panties, and when her eyes flicker down, she can see the outline of Harry’s half hard cock in his shorts.  Together, they’ve reached the border of friends helping each other out, and she’s certain that she wants to cross it with him.  However, she’s not sure if they should.

Pulling back enough to look Harry in the eyes, Y/N clears her throat. “H, we—what are we doing?”

Harry waits a moment to answer. “I…I don’t know.  I have no fucking clue.”

“This isn’t friendly anymore.” Y/N’s voice drops to a whisper. “It’s not just—it’s intimate, yeah, but it’s more…” Her eyes move to the outline of his hardening cock once more before looking back up at his face. “It’s more.”

“Yeah.  It’s more.” Harry moves his hand further up her thigh again, rubbing slow circles. “But I don’t want to stop.”

Y/N sucks in a breath. “You don’t?”

“It’s been so long since…” Harry trails off, his gaze drifting down to your lips before returning to your eyes. “And it’s you.  I’ve always wondered if—we—”

“I’ve wondered, too.” Y/N admits, her voice filled with nerves.  Are they really discussing this? “Especially since that day, in the bathroom—”

“I wondered if you looked then.” Harry’s voice drops lower (which Y/N didn’t think was possible). “I thought about it later that day.  I—fuck, I wanted you to look.”

A small noise escapes the back of Y/N’s throat. “This—we’ve been drinking, and—it’s the alcohol, H. Neither of us is thinking straight.”

“This isn’t the alcohol talking.  I’ve thought about—when we’re in the pool, when we cuddle, when we flirt, I—I can’t help it.” Harry closes his eyes for a brief moment, like he’s collecting himself. “I need you.  And I think…I think you need me too.”

“I do.  I need you.” Y/N touches his stubbled jaw with careful fingers. “But we’re friends.  This is going to change that.”

“We don’t know that.” Harry leans into her touch. “You said before that you wanted someone you’re comfortable with, something intimate, something breathless.  You and I are comfortable, and intimate, and—I don’t know.  All I know for sure is that I want you.”

Y/N isn’t sure if he means he wants her in a purely physical way or something more, and while she knows she should clarify that, all she can focus on is his voice and the way it’s going straight to her core.

“I want you, too.” She says simply.

Harry brings his hand to Y/N’s hip. “Can I kiss you?”

Y/N nods.  She’s not sure she’s capable of giving a verbal response.

Harry takes it upon himself to lean closer, his fingertips digging into Y/N’s skin in a way she adores. He pauses, hovering just above her lips for a moment, as if to give her time to pull away.  Instead, Y/N just waits in anticipation, delighting in the feeling of his breath running over her skin.

When he kisses her, Y/N tastes alcohol, mint, and what she swears is her own heart in the back of her throat.

Any previous kisses she’s shared with Harry have been half kisses, given in teenage games of truth or dare and in a friend’s parent’s basement.  Those kisses were safe, guarded, and an obligation.  This kiss is the exact opposite.

Although it starts chaste, it quickly grows more passionate.  Y/N can’t stop herself from tugging on Harry’s hair more than she imagines Harry can stop himself from rucking up the hem of her tank top.  His fingers dip under the band of her lace bralette as she nips at his lip, tugging slightly, delighted when a strangled sound echoes from the back of his throat.

Within minutes, Y/N’s allowed Harry to pull her to straddle his lap, his hands grabbing at her hips with a neediness she’s never seen him exhibit before.  Of course, she feels the same way, and she lets her hand run down his chest over and over, using her nails a little more each time.  Although there’s no one around to see, no party to return to, nowhere to go, Y/N wants to leave a mark.  She wants anyone who sees his chest to know that he belongs to her.

Harry breaks away from her, lips red, eyes frenzied, and breathing heavy. “Can I—?” His hands tug on the hem of her top, tugging in question.

Y/N lifts her arms in response, letting him pull it off and toss it to the side.  Harry moves back in to kiss her again, but she keeps her arms up, giving him a long look.

“You’re not done.” She says simply.

He understands right away, and his fingers find the band of her bralette again.  This time, however, he removes it slower, almost as if the removal is ritual itself, and his hands are less frantic when they return to your skin.

Harry looks at Y/Nu with wide eyes, and she understands the meaning in them: this is so much more than just touching, and so much more than two friends using each other for mutual pleasure.  With every touch, they further cross a line, and neither of them can stop.  

With this realization, Harry’s movements become more cautious.  His hands come to rest on her sides, his thumbs just brushing the side of her breast.

“You’re fine.” Y/N assures him in a soothing voice. “Keep going.”

“Are you fine?” He counters, his voice an equal mix of concern and need.

“H.” Y/N takes his hands in her own and places them over her breasts. “Like that.  Touch me like that.”

Harry sucks in a short breath as she manipulates his hands, showing him how to rub her and touch her. After a few moments, she lets her hands move to his neck, pulling him in for another kiss.

Y/N begins to grind against him, desperate for a bit of friction.  Their kisses are soon accented with their moans as they each pull the other closer in lust and need.

Still, underneath the physical desires, there’s a current running between them.  Y/N knows it’s been there for the last few weeks, humming quietly in the back of her mind, but being here, now, with Harry touching her, it’s come alive like an electric fence.  She can’t turn it off, and she doesn’t want to.  She doesn’t want to in the slightest.

Harry begins to kiss down her neck like before, but this time his kisses are anything but chaste. When he reaches her breast, he kisses around them before taking one of her nipples into his mouth.

“Oh fuck—” Y/N arches her back, fingers tangling in his hair to pull him closer. “Harry…”

He hums against her, and his spare hand rubs her back like he does when they get ready to sleep.  Usually, the motion is calming, but right now, Y/N feels anything but calm.

Harry continues until he’s satisfied with his work, and then he kisses his way to her other breast, wrapping his lips against her other nipple.  He spends just as much time on that one, letting his teeth graze it ever so slightly before soothing the action with his tongue.

When he pulls back, there’s a little line of spit connecting Harry’s mouth to her nipple, and Y/N whimpers at the sight.

“H…” She runs her finger through the line before gripping his chin with her thumb and forefinger.  The need inside her builds, as does her fondness for the man in front of her. “God…”

Harry tweaks her hard nipple with his finger, gentle enough so as not to hurt her, but enough to make a gasp fall from her mouth.  He offers no response in the form of words, but the hungry look in his eyes has only increased.

“Let me…” Y/N climbs off of his lap, gently pushing him to lay back on the bed. “Yeah?”

Harry runs a hand through his messy curls, nodding quickly. “You want that?”

“Yeah.” Y/N nods too, pressing a wet kiss to his swollen lips. “So bad.  Yeah.”

Her hands move to the waistband of his shorts, and Harry lifts his hips off the bed.  Y/N tugs down his boxers in the same movement, and tosses both articles of clothing to the side before looking back at him.

Harry’s cock is just as beautiful as she remembers it being the morning she accidentally walked in on him. Even more so, she thinks, because now he’s hard, and the head is the most appetizing shade of pink, with drops of precum pearling at the top.  When Y/N wraps her hand around his girth, she adores the heat that she feels.  

“So pretty…” She says the words almost to herself, and strokes him lightly to get used to the feeling of him in her hand. “I just want to…”

Y/N leans down and flicks her tongue over his tip, collecting the precum gathered there.  In return, a strangled moan leaves Harry’s throat as his arm moves to cover his eyes for a moment.

Y/N presses a kiss to the head of his cock before she continues licking, reveling in the sounds Harry makes.  She had no doubt, with a voice as angelic as his, that his moans and whines and whimpers would be just as beautiful.

When she wraps her lips around the head and sucks, she feels Harry’s hand move to her hair.  She looks up at him without lifting off of his cock, staring him in the eye as she takes more and more of him into her mouth.

“Fuck—” Another moan leaves Harry’s lips, more strained than the last. “That’s it…” He tugs on her hair, but doesn’t push her down.  Even when lost in pleasure, he’s careful with her.

Y/N loves him for it.

Pacing herself, she takes more and more of him into her mouth until her nose is pressed to the base of his stomach, brushing against his (neatly trimmed) pubic hair.  She stays down for just a moment before pulling up completely to breathe, but keeps her hand on him, stroking him slowly.

“You look so good.” Harry mutters, running his hands over her hair in a soothing motion. “I imagined it, but didn’t think…so much better…”

Y/N moves to push her head back down, but Harry stops her, bringing her up for a kiss instead.

“I want to taste you, now.” He tells her, laying her down on the pillows. “Is that alright?”

Y/N nods desperately, feeling even more heat rush to her core and pool there. “Mhmm.”

Harry kisses his way down her body again, slipping his fingers into the waistband of her shorts. He leaves her panties on as he pulls the shorts down, and lets out a low groan at the sight of her pink Calvin Klein panties, and more specifically, the dark pink spot that’s apparent on them.

“You’re soaked…” He presses a kiss to her sensitive inner thigh before brushing a finger over the wet spot.

Y/N jumps a bit, making a sound in the back of her throat. “Harry!”

“Sorry.” He kisses her thigh again. “I’m sorry.  Just relax, yeah?  It’s just me. I got you.”

Harry continues to kiss along her inner thighs, moving closer and closer to the thin cloth covering her center.  When he presses his first kiss to the fabric, Y/N grasps the sheets in her hands.

“God…” She whispers, fists clenched.

Harry reaches up and takes one of her hands, placing it in his hair wordlessly before kissing over her again, his tongue peaking out just a bit.

The torture continues for what feels like forever, with Harry teasing her over the soaked fabric of her panties.  Finally, Y/N sighs in relief as she feels his hands grip the fabric, and she lifts her hips eagerly as he tugs the article of clothing down.

The first thing she feels is his hot breath hitting her core, which is enough to make her legs reflexively close with pleasure.  Harry’s hand grips her leg, pushing them back open as he takes in the sight of her dripping cunt before him.

“Fuck…” He inhales deeply, committing her scent to memory. “Your pussy is so gorgeous.”

Y/N whimpers at his words and tugs on his curls. “Please, H…I need you.”

“Need me?” Harry asks in a husky voice, his finger touching her outer lips just barely.

“Yes!” Y/N whines, not caring how she sounds. “Never needed anything more…”

Harry runs his finger over her slit, collecting the wetness dripping from her.  YN moans loudly at the contact, not fully relieved but grateful for the light touch.

“So fucking wet.” Harry’s voice sounds not completely his own. “Fuck, Y/N, how are you so wet?”

Y/N feels heat rush to her cheeks, and she mumbles her reply in what’s almost an embarrassed voice. “You know exactly how.”

“Don’t even know what to do first.” Harry ignores her reply, lost in his own world as he continues stroking her slit. “Just want…”

He presses into her without warning, and Y/N arches her back off the bed as Harry’s finger slips into her cunt.  His cold rings touch the top of her entrance as Harry pauses inside her, his eyes heavy with lust.

“And so tight.” He moans, biting his lip hard enough to leave a mark. “Oh my God…”

He curves his finger inside her, wanting to feel every inch of her that he can.  Y/N continues to whimper above him.

“More.” She begs him, pushing back against his finger. “I can take more, Harry, please.”

Harry easily slips enough finger in, repeating his motion as she pushes back on him.  However, the pressure building inside Y/N disappears abruptly as his fingers do, and she’s just about to get angry at him when she feels his tongue replace his fingers.

“Fuck!” She exclaims loudly, her eyes closing as she throws her head back. “Harry—!”

Harry moves his tongue in and out of her, loving the taste of her juices in his mouth.  He moves further up to her clit, licking and sucking over the sensitive bundle of nerves as Y/N writhes above him.

“Taste so good.” He growls from between her thighs. “Fuck, Y/N…you’re going to cum for me, yeah?” He asks as he reaches up and grips her hands in his, interlocking their fingers. “Tell me you’re going to cum for me.”

Another strangled moan leaves Y/N’s mouth as he speaks. “I-I’m so close, Harry. Keep going, please.”

“Tell me.” He demands, licking over her clit again. “Tell me you’re going to cum for me.”

Y/N grinds against his tongue as she grips his hands tighter. “I’m going—fuck—I’m going to cum for you, H.  I’m going—”

Harry sucks hard on her clit, and Y/N throws her head back as an orgasm hits her harder than ever before.  Her thighs clench shut, trapping Harry’s head between them, but he just continues to lap at the juices flowing from her cunt while making the most obscene sounds Y/N has ever heard.

Harry doesn’t pull back until Y/N unclenches her thighs, and before he does, he presses one last kiss to her clit, making her flinch.  

Y/N is so exhausted she can barely open her eyes.  Once she does, however, and sees Harry, she feels all the exhaustion fade.

Harry’s lips are, somehow, even more red than before, and his whole chin is slick with her wetness.  He keeps licking his lips, like he can’t get enough of the taste, and Y/N feels like her whole body is on fire.

“Harry…” She whispers, squeezing his hand again.  She doesn’t know what else to say.

Harry lifts himself over her body, which is still shaking from her orgasm, and kisses her gently.  She can taste herself on his mouth, and she adores it.

“You taste so fucking good.” He murmurs, pressing his sweaty forehead against hers. “Like candy.”

Y/N swallows hard. “I haven’t—no one’s done that in a long time.”

“I’ll be glad to do it again.” Harry replies, brushing her hair back. “But right now…all I want to do is make love to you.” He looks at her with sincere eyes. “Will you let me?”

The tenderness of him asking almost brings tears to her eyes, and Y/N nods, her hands coming up to cup his rosy cheeks. “Yeah, H.  I’m…” She bites her lip as she realizes the truth of her words. “I’m yours.  Always.”

Harry inhales sharply before kissing her softly, his hands stroking her hair in a comforting fashion again. “How do you want to…?”

“I want you on top.” Y/N replies, touching his swallow tattoos. “I-I want to feel you.  Feel your weight.  Feel you close.”

With a nod, Harry positions himself over her, spreading her legs wide enough that his body can fit between.  He holds himself up with one hand and uses the other to guide his cock to Y/N’s folds, just brushing the head over them.  He’s teasing himself just as much as her.

“Harry…” Y/N leans her head back at the sensation. “Please, H…”

“I don’t—wait—” Harry pauses his movements, and Y/N can see on his face the strength and discipline it takes for him to do so. “I—a condom—”

“I’m clean, and I have an IUD.” Y/N assures him, running her hand along his shoulders. “Are you?”

Harry nods. “Yeah, I am, but—are you sure?”

As Y/N looks into his eyes, the love and concern and want written all over them, she knows she’s never been more sure of anything in her life. “I want to feel you, without anything in between.  I—” She takes a deep breath and presses a kiss to his jaw. “Yeah.  I’m sure.”

Harry presses a kiss to her forehead, and the tender action makes Y/N close her eyes as she revels in the feeling.  A moment later, Harry moves down again and puts his forehead against hers as he pushes into her.

The moment he enters her, Y/N feels a fullness she’s never experienced before.  Not only is Harry stretching her cunt in a way that feels euphoric, but she feels complete.  He’s as close to her as he’s ever been, his breath is mingling with hers, his body weight is held over her carefully, and Y/N thinks she could die in the pleasure of this moment happily.

“Y/N…baby…” The pet name seems to fall easily from Harry’s lips as he bottoms out, holding himself still to adjust to the feeling. “Oh my God…”

Y/N digs her fingernails into Harry’s shoulders, pressing kisses to his lips between gasps for breath. “Move, H, please.”

Harry begins to thrust his hips, setting a slow but deep pace before gradually speeding up.  While part of Y/N wishes he would thrust as fast as he can, a deeper part of her is grateful that Harry is taking his time with her.  This feeling, now that she has it, is better than anything she’d ever felt before, and Y/N doesn’t want it to end anytime soon.

Harry kisses Y/N again as he moves inside her.  Although they’re as close as they’ve ever been, each of them keeps pulling the other closer.  As Harry thrusts deeper, Y/N pulls more of his weight down on her.  As Y/N scratches her nails down his back, Harry kisses her jaw. Neither of them can process exactly what they’re doing, but neither of them can stop.  Each touch is tender, each kiss is passionate, and each moment brings them closer together in so many more ways than just physical.

They don’t speak except for the occasional whisper from Y/N for Harry to move faster, or the occasional moan of Y/N’s name falling from Harry’s lips. The only constant sounds in the room are of the slickness between Y/N’s thighs as Harry moves between them, the sound of his skin meeting hers, both of them panting and moaning, and a few whispers of “please” that are barely audible.  Despite the lack of speech, however, the two are in constant communication.  Kissing, biting, scratching, and squeezing have become the vocabulary of their new language.  When Harry looks into Y/N’s wet eyes, he knows that she feels something running through the very depths of her being.  When Y/N feels Harry tuck his head between her neck and her shoulder as he whimpers, she knows that he trusts her to comfort him and hold him there.

Soon, Y/N feels the waves of pleasure begin to build, and she knows that when they finally break, they’ll pull her under. “H, I—fuck—I—” She can’t manage to form the sentence she needs to.

Harry, however, can tell exactly what she’s going to say. “Please.” He pants, adoring how she buries her head into his shoulder. “Please, love, cum for me…” He kisses over the shell of her ear as he thrusts deeper. “Need you.”

Y/N whimpers, biting down on Harry’s shoulder as her orgasm rolls over her. Harry feels her walls tighten around his cock, but he doesn’t slow down, and he works her through her climax until she whines in his ear.

“So good, H…” Y/N can barely find the strength to whisper the phrase.

Hearing her sound so fucked out, feeling her cunt squeezing him, and seeing the euphoria on her face is enough to bring Harry to the edge.  He slows his thrusts, about to pull out, but Y/N presses on his back to keep him close.

Harry groans as a shiver rolls through his body. “I’m about to cum, Y/N—”

“Stay inside me.” She pleads, pressing the pads of her fingers between his shoulder blades. “I-I’m yours, Harry, I told you.  Yours.”

Y/N looks up at him with such trusting and vulnerable eyes that Harry can’t make himself argue with her.  He nods instead, his thrusts increasing in speed again until he feels himself reach the edge of pleasure.  

As he freefalls into Y/N, his hips stutter, and he presses deep inside her while her name falls from his lips over and over again.  He can’t think of anything else to say.  He can’t think of anything else worth saying.

When Harry finally manages to pull himself together enough to pull out, Y/N instantly feels the emptiness inside her.  She wishes he would stay, but knows that it’s not practical, and instead just relishes in the feeling of his cum dripping from her entrance.  It’s like he’s claimed her as his, left a physical mark of himself, and Y/N doesn’t have the strength to stop herself from loving it.

They lay in silence for a few moments, trying to catch their breath and regain a sense of where they are.  Both Harry and Y/N are sweaty, exhausted, and covered in each other in more ways than one.  The wrap on Harry’s tattoo has slipped from his arm.  Somewhere in their pleasure, Y/N has lost an earring.  And yet, the only thing each of them cares about is looking at the other.

Out of instinct, Harry pulls Y/N’s shivering body into his, wrapping his arms around her tightly.  He can’t imagine she’s cold, and Y/N can’t bring herself to tell him she’s shivering because of the feeling of being so close to him, but neither of them denies the other of the affectionate gesture.

Y/N loses track of how long they lay there until Harry breaks the silence.

“I—” His voice cracks, and he clears it quickly before trying again. “I’ll get you a cloth to—to clean you up.”

Y/N nods, and Harry gently untangles himself from her before going to the bathroom.  Y/N can hear the running of water, and turns her head to see what he’s doing, but when she spots his naked silhouette, she closes her eyes.  Despite what they just did, there’s a shyness in her still when she sees him completely stripped.

Her eyes stay closed, and she only detects his return from feeling his weight return to the bed.  He places a gentle hand on her trembling knee, pulling her open ever so slightly.

“’M just cleaning you up.” Harry says in a quiet tone. “Is that okay?”

Y/N nods again.  She’s not certain she has enough strength to say anything.

Harry wipes between her legs with a gentle touch, watching how she flinches at the slightest of pressure. “I’m sorry.” He says sincerely, kissing her knee tenderly before continuing. “You’re sensitive, I know.  Almost done.”

Once he finishes wiping away the cum dripping out of her (his cum dripping out of her), Harry tosses the cloth onto his pile of clothes on the ground, deciding it can be dealt with later.  His most pressing concern at the moment is Y/N.

He lays back down on his side so he can face her, and pushes a lock of hair away from her closed eyes.

“Y/N.” Harry murmurs, hand resting on her waist carefully. “Talk to me. Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Her voice is rough when she answers, and Harry can hear the echo of her moans in her words. “I-I’m fine, H.  Just…tired.”

“Do you…” Harry bites his lip. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Y/N gives a slight shake of her head. “Maybe—maybe tomorrow, yeah?” She does her best to open one eye, but quickly shuts it again when she sees how Harry is looking at her. “Can’t right now.”

“Okay.” Harry lays his arm over her side as he moves closer. “Tomorrow.”

Y/N presses her head into his shoulder and commits the scent of his skin to memory.

…

The first thing Y/N registers when she wakes up is the feeling of someone touching her hair.

She doesn’t need to open her eyes to know it’s Harry.  Of course it’s Harry.  It’s always been Harry.  In every way.

Y/N sighs and readjusts her position in bed, moving a bit closer to Harry.  She shivers once from the cold, still naked from last night’s activities, and that’s the only hint Harry needs before he pulls the sheet up around her more.

“Are you awake?” He asks softly, careful in case she’s still lost deep in sleep.

Y/N moves her head in a passable nodding motion, and her voice is thick with sleep when she answers. “Mhmm.  Barely.”

A low chuckle escapes from Harry’s mouth, and the next thing Y/N feels are his warm lips against her cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“A little hungover.  A little sore.” Y/N finally opens her eyes as she speaks, and almost wishes she hadn’t.

Harry’s hair is a mess from both sex and sleep, messy and wild and haphazardly pushed out of his eyes. His cheeks are flushed, and his neck and chest are covered in marks from both Y/N’s lips and fingers.  She knows that if he turned over, his back would be the same, and it embarrasses her and delights her at the same time.  He looks completely fucked and content, and more relaxed than she’s seen him in ages.

Y/N wonders if she looks the same.  If she looks as pretty.

“Sorry.” Harry says, his tone a bit sheepish.

“It’s not your fault.” Y/N replies, shrugging a bit.

“Well…it is, actually.  I made your drinks.  And I…” He trails off, brushing his fingers down her bare hip to her thigh.

“Yeah.” Y/N feels her face get warm. “I guess it is your fault.”

Harry laughs lightly, but it fades away as he looks into her eyes. “We, uh…we should probably talk about what happened.”

Y/N purses her lips. “Yeah. We should.”

“So…first question, I guess.” Harry props his head up on his arm, but keeps running his fingers over Y/N’s hip gently. “Do you regret it?”

Y/N sits up a bit more in bed, clutching the sheet to her bare chest. “No.  I don’t.  Do you?”

“No.” Harry replies instantly. “I don’t regret it.”

“Okay.” Y/N is so aware of Harry’s eyes on her as she thinks of her question. “Did…did you enjoy it?”

A snort falls from Harry’s mouth, and he shakes his head incredulously. “Christ, Y/N, of course I enjoyed it.  It felt—you felt like heaven.”

Y/N flushes at the comment. “I’ve never…I’ve always made my partners wear condoms.  So that was a first for me.”

Harry’s fingers pause over her hip, but only for a moment.  It looks as though he’s deciding whether or not he should comment on that, but changes his mind at the last moment. “Did you enjoy it?” He asks instead, echoing your question.

“I did.”

“You said you were mine.”

Y/N swallows hard. This conversation is less incriminating than making love to him last night, but it seems infinitely more powerful. Probably because they’re both sober, she thinks.

“That—” She clears her throat. “That’s not a question.”

Harry sighs, but there’s an endeared smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You said you were mine. Did you mean that?”

Y/N can’t look him in the eyes, so she looks down instead.  Harry’s hand lies between them, and she intertwines their fingers, playing with his rings as she carefully formulates her answer. “I’ve—I’ve always been yours, H.  Ever since we were kids, I’ve belonged to you.” She runs a finger over his H ring. “Even when you were gone.”

Harry frowns a bit at the tone of her voice. “I’ve been yours too, Y/N.  I belong to you just as much as you belong to me.”

“You’ve always been further out of reach.” Y/N pulls her hand from his, until their fingertips are just barely touching. “Always just…a little out of reach.”

Harry intertwines their fingers again. “I’m not out of reach.  Not right now.  And I’ve never—if you ever called me and said you needed me, I would’ve been on the first flight back home to you.  I would’ve dropped everything for you, Y/N.  I still would, and I always will.”

Tears prick Y/N’s eyes, and although she hurries to close them, one slips out.  Harry catches it on his finger before it can run off her cheek, and when she looks at him again, there’s a concerned look on his face.

“C’mere.” Harry mumbles, pulling Y/N into a tight hug.  He rubs her back like he always does, and the motion is so comforting that she almost forgets the vulnerable position they’re both in. “You’re my girl.  You’re always going to be my girl.” He murmurs in her ear, voice low and soothing. “Always.  Don’t you know that?”

Y/N nods, not trusting her voice at the moment.

“If this is too much for you…” Harry traces his fingers between her shoulder blades.  Y/N thinks he’s tracing words, like they used to as children, but she can’t tell what words he may be tracing. “I understand. We can just—we can pretend it didn’t happen.”

“I—” Y/N shakes her head, looking up at Harry. “I don’t want to do that.”

“Then what do you want, Y/N?” Harry asks, his tone as pleading as it was last night. “All I’ve ever tried to do is give you what you want, and usually I’m pretty good at telling what that is, but right now, I’m lost.  I don’t want things to go back to how they were, but I don’t—I can’t lose you, so just—if you just tell me what you want, I’ll do it.  I’ll make it work.  I promise that I won’t be mad, or hurt, or anything.”

Y/N sits up as best she can, her fingers combing through Harry’s messy curls on reflex, as she always does it when he gets upset. “I can’t pretend that I don’t want you, H.  I do.  I need you.  I told you that last night.”

“But you’re crying.” Harry cups her wet cheek gently, rubbing his thumb along her cheekbone. “I hate that.”

Y/N leans into his touch. “It just feels…strange.” She says after a moment. “All of this.  I spent so long trying to stop myself from thinking of you like this, and now that I am, I feel like—like it’s wrong.”

Harry tugs on his bottom lip with his teeth. “Does it feel wrong?”

His low voice makes her shiver. “No.  It feels right.  Really right.”

“I feel like…” Harry’s eyes flicker between Y/N’s own eyes and their intertwined hands. “I feel like we’re both dancing around saying it.”

Y/N sucks in a breath. “Saying what?”

“Saying…” Harry leans in and presses a soft kiss to her lips. “Saying that we’re in love with each other.”

Y/N feels breathless at the words coming from his mouth. “You’re in love with me?”

“Are you not in love with me?” He replies, moving so he’s leaning over her more. “We’ve said I love you so many times before.”

“That’s a different kind of love.” Y/N mumbles, touching the chain dangling from Harry’s neck.

“But we were both meaning something different when we were saying it.  At least, I was.” Harry inhales deeply, like he’s centering himself. “I’ve known…for a while, but I’ve felt it for longer than I’ve known it. And I thought that you might…”

“I think I do.” Y/N whispers. “But saying it feels so—so permanent.  Like we can’t go back to being friends if it blows up in our faces.”

Harry traces a finger down Y/N’s cheek, her neck, between her breasts, to her side, touching just below her ribs. “Maybe we can’t.  But I don’t think we’ll want to, Y/N.  I think we’re perfect for each other.”

Y/N’s heart pounds in her chest. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Harry nods. “This last month, it’s been like we’ve been…playing house, or something.  I’ve loved it.  I keep hearing from friends saying that they’re so sick of the person they’re living with, so tired of them, but I’ve never felt that way about you, and I don’t think I ever will.  I’ll never get sick of you.”

Y/N laughs a bit. “That’s romantic.”

“Shut up.” Harry can’t help but smile slightly. “It is romantic.”

“Yeah.  It is.” Y/N says softly, her hand rubbing over Harry’s tattooed arm. “You’re really in love with me?”

Harry nods. “I am.”

“Huh.” Y/N bites her lip. “So I guess we’ve been lying to our moms, haven’t we?”

Harry laughs loudly, collapsing on the bed next to Y/N. “Jesus, can you not mention our mums when we’re naked in bed?”

“I’m just saying!  We’ve been saying for years that you’re not in love with me, and it’s all been a lie.”

“What about when they ask if you’re in love with me?” Harry’s tone is joking, but there’s a hint of nervousness in the back of his voice. “Has that been a lie, too?”

Y/N’s heart pounds as she nods. “Yeah.  We’ll have to get them something really good for Mother’s Day this year to help make up for it.”

A grin spreads over Harry’s face, almost triumphant, as he leans down to kiss her. “Agreed.” He moves to cage himself over Y/N. “But I want to hear you say it.”

“Say what?”

“I want to hear you say that you’re in love with me.” Harry’s grin turns into a smirk.

Y/N flushes as she shakes her head. “You say it first.”

“I’ve already admitted it!”

“So have I!”

“Not as well as I have!”

“Oh, so it’s a competition now?” Y/N scoffs. “What a wonderful start to our relationship.”

“I’m just saying, Y/N, admitting it is the first step to—”

“Are you seriously going to say that to get me to say that I love you?”

“Just—”

“You’re so irritating—”

“I’m irritating?  You—”

“You’re the worst!”

“And yet you’re in my bed with no clothes on!”

“Okay.  Nope.  Relationship over.” Y/N pushes Harry off of her and wraps the sheet around herself as she gets out of bed. “You blew it, Styles.”

“Y/N.” Laughter falls from Harry’s lips as he leans over the edge of the bed. “Love.  Come back to bed.”

“I think a minute and thirty-seven seconds may be the record for the world’s shortest relationship.” Y/N searches her bag for some clean clothes.

“Come here!”

“Another world record for Harry Styles.” Y/N calls to him without turning around. “You must be so proud—”

Her words are cut off in a shriek as Harry picks her up, throwing her over his shoulder as he brings her back to his bed.

“Harry!” She yells, hitting his arm. “Put me down!”

Harry tosses her on the bed, gentle enough so as not to hurt her, and cages himself over her sheet-covered body.  He’s still completely bare. “Take it back.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Fine. We’re still together.  One less record for you.”

“Good.  Now…” Harry brushes a finger over her lips. “Say you’re in love with me.”

Y/N’s laughter fades a bit as the nerves set back in. “I…”

“Please, Y/N?” Harry murmurs, leaning down to kiss her neck. “Please say it.”

“I’m—” Y/N sucks in a quick breath, and all of her protest leaves her body as she exhales. “I’m in love with you, Harry.”

She can feel Harry’s lips forming a grin against her neck. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Y/N tugs on his hair gently, just enough so she can pull his head back to look in his eyes. “Now you say it.”

“Y/N.” Harry says her name like it’s something precious. “I’m in love with you.”

A flush of pleasure crawls up Y/N’s spine at his words, but she does her best to keep her tone light-hearted. “So are you calling our moms, or am I?”

“I’ll do it.” Harry reaches for his phone on the bedside table. “And I’ll be sure to mention how it took us getting drunk and having sex to realize—”

“Harry!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell your mum we used a condom—”

“I’ll kill you, Styles, and I’ll make it look like an accident.” Y/N shoves his shoulder hard.

Harry grins at her. “Now that’s romantic.”