#it’s a tattoo I can’t cover up that none of them know about

[astranva]

Lightsaber

Word Count: 910

Category: Fluff

Warning: None

Summary:  Even after 2 years, fans had no idea you existed until they do, and a cute moment with Harry gets recorded.

or

“https://youtube.com/shorts/WGtMMonh_2M?feature=share

Can you do one where YN and Harry were caught being all cute and all

And no one new they were together so everyone is trying to figure out who that mysterious girl is. And YN and Harry would just laugh because they have been together for a very long time or somthing like that?”

a/n: not my best but i’m forcing myself out of a writing block, i’m sorry :(

Privacy was a sacred matter in the entertainment industry. It was always glorified, and the first to get sabotaged and messed with. The whole idea behind an artist’s team, especially PR, was all about privacy if you think about it hard enough; what should the public know about their fave and what gets dusted underneath the rug? What bits do you hide to make the cut and be the talk of every age group?

For Harry, he was in it for what he loved to do; he sang, he wrote, he acted, he occasionally modeled, and he did other entertaining things on the side, none of which included sharing his family or his relationship with you.

Having a good team that has your back was vital for Harry, because otherwise, he wasn’t sure he would’ve been able to hide his 2-year relationship from the world. 

It wasn’t surprising to say that Harry was smart; he knew what he wanted, and he knew what the people wanted, sure, but he also knew what he wanted to show the people. It wasn’t that he liked depriving people from what they’d like to know, but to give the people what they want at the expense of your privacy? No can do. 

It was one night when you both had agreed you’d ease the people into knowing about your relationship, doing things at your own pace.

For the first few shows, Harry’s fans began talking about the person Harry always seemed to look, smile, and wave at during his shows as he sang. The bashful smiles and flirty gazing not going unnoticed by thousands and thousands of fans. At some point, someone managed to record you-although blurry- as you looked up at him, and the mask covered half your face, the crinkles by your eyes were enough to tell that you were beaming up at him.

For a month, they tried to keep tabs on you, some saying you were one of the crew, some others saying you worked on the DWD set, others saying you were still a uni kid. 

That was until Gemma had posted a story of you and her FaceTiming; a screenshot of you mid-laugh as a certain hand with a cross tattoo squeezed your cheeks like a puffed fish, and Gemma beaming. Gemma was deemed a saint because she had tagged you, putting an end to the theories: 

“Miss my pal @yourusername” 

Although your account was private, and your biography was just a bunch of emojis, it still felt nice for the fans to put a clear face and name to you. 

After that, people had started to approach you at Harry’s shows; 

“Are you Y/N?”

“You’re Y/N, right?”

“We’re so sorry but are you Y/N? Can you tell Harry we love him?”

“Are you and Harry together?” 

The last one always made you bashful, but you always got away with it because every single damn time, you pretended you couldn’t hear them through the chatter and screams around you. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you!” You’d shout, motioning to the noise around you.

The first time you did that and told Harry, he had doubled over in laughter - “You little shit!” He had, very romantically, said. 

But then there was no saying to it, there was no denying. 

What confirmed it were pictures of you and Harry getting coffee, hand in hand, you skipping, him hugging you as if his life depended on it, and finally, a picture of him with his mask down just for the sole purpose of pressing a kiss to your cheek as you leaned against him with your eyes closed, the both of you waiting for the traffic light to turn red so you can cross the road. 

But what truly established it, was the video a fan shot one day.

No one knows why or how, but you and Harry held lightsabers, his in yellow, you in pink. The fan wasn’t standing close enough for their phone to catch the sound of your laughter, but it showed as you both dueled one another rather dramatically. 

Harry had taken a jab at your stomach in the video, at which you had pretended to die from. Your hand moved to the spot he jabbed, looking up at him before you sunk to your knees and lowered your head and lightsaber, Harry raising his in the air in triumph. 

The video showed as he laughed, before he was surprised when you jumped up and ran towards him, jumping into his arms and wrapping yourself around him, hugging his head as you both laughed in glee before you looked at him, the video ending when the both of you pulled away from a soft kiss. 

The reactions to that video were interesting to say the least. 

“How can you have that much chemistry with someone you have just started dating?”

“You can’t convince me they haven’t been dating for no less than a year.”

“You don’t show someone your dorky side unless you know them VERY well.”

How do you tell them you have been together for 2 years? 

Initially, you and Harry thought that you wouldn’t, until your third anniversary came and Harry decided to post about it. 

You stood in the dark, holding your pink lightsaber whose light was the only thing, as well as your silhouette, seen in the picture, with a caption that the fans deciphered:

“Happy 1095 days.”

[queentala]

Tropes I cannot stop thinking about:

Tristan Flynn x malakh!reader enemies to lovers

They don’t go along at the beginning but during mission the reader covers Flynn with her wings, saving him from the bullets. He feels guilty and tries to make it up to the reader, accidentally falling in love with her.

dog person Aedion x cat person reader

“Baby put that cat down, please. We’re not adopting another one.”

“You’re not fair. I didn’t complain when you brought home sixth dog!”

“We have already five cats!”

“Why don’t you love me?!?!”

Azriel x pirate!reader

The one that fell in love with with skies and the one that got addicted to the sea. Also, Azriel flying over ocean as the reader stands on the mast, laughing as wind blow her hair in every direction, her eyes never leaving her lover’s figure.

Ruhn x tattoo artist!reader

Ruhn once visited her tattoo studio because one of his friends recommended it to him. He got crush on the reader immediately as he saw her and fell in love once he heard her laugh. Now, he keeps coming to get more and more tattoos only to hear her talk as she tattoos him.

Bonus points if once she asks about his scars and Ruhn opens up to her. Then, Ruhn - king of flirt, is struggling to find words as he tries to ask the reader out for a dinner.

Gavriel x reader that is addicted to adrenaline

The most collected and responsible man you know falls for the loud, adventurous girl that gives him heart attacks every five minutes.

“Go big or go home!”

“Darling, I beg you, just once let’s go home.”

“Yeah no way. Now, wanna go bungee jumping?”

But when they finally go home, she falls asleep curled up in his arms like a little baby and Gavriel can’t help but stare at her peaceful countenance.

(platonic) Fenrys x Lorcan’s mate!reader

She match Fenrys’ sarcasm and wildness like no one other. They always run around the palace, pranking everyone or telling jokes and stories at 3 am in the kitchen while cooking late night snacks. And Lorcan either follows them around, all grumpy and annoyed because Fenrys stole you from him, or sit somewhere with his arms crossed, trying no to show his jealousy as he watches you two.

But the reader always manages to make it up to him with kisses.

Lidia x reader that also was forced to serve Asterii since childhood

They’re assigned on a mission together and at first it’s only professional teamwork but soon they discover none of them really wants to do this. They become closer friends, they open up to each other and then realize there might be someone in this world that is worth fighting for. Basically, two traumatized girls find home and peace in each other.

Bonus points if Ruhn comes later and they take him in, becoming three traumatized babes that found love in each other.

Connall Moonbeam x ballerina!reader

She's one of the best ballerinas in Doranelle, one time she gets invited to the ball thrown by Maeve to perform and entertain guests. Connall feels the bond snap the moment he sees her. He falls in love with her soft smile, kind eyes and graceful moves.

He sits with her late at nights in theater, just the two of them, watching her practice, hypnotized with her moves, pure love radiating from his eyes.

He walks with her before and after every practice and never misses even one of her performances. He finally feels like he belongs somewhere and Fenrys is so happy that his brother found love.

Sooner or later I’m going to write stories for all of the above.

Also feel free to add more. <3

[loveronlineee]

Change: Chapter 10 (Eli Moskowitz x Reader)

All Chapters

Eli Moskowitz x Reader (She/Her)

Warnings: none

Chapter synopsis: As Y/N and the others try to adjust to Eli’s new style, Aisha discovers something terrible and comes up with a plan for revenge

Y/N notes: none

The next day at school. Miguel couldn’t concentrate. He couldn’t stop thinking about that guy he saw eating dinner with Sam and her family. He fiddled with his pen then dropped it on his desk. Demetri looked over at him.

‘What’s going on?’ He whispered to Miguel. ‘The test is almost over.’

‘It’s just a practice test. Relax.’

‘Easy for you to say. You have a girlfriend.’ Miguel frowned at him.

‘What does that have to do with anything?’

‘I gotta do well on these, so I can do well on the actual test, so I get into a good college, which will lead to a good internship then a high paying job, and then, after a couple promotions, I should have enough confidence to get a super hot girl.’ Demetri pointed his pencil. ‘You got the karate thing. I gotta play the long game.’

Miguel rolled his eyes and looked around the class. Y/N was sitting at the front. She seemed to be having trouble concentrating too.

‘Is Y/N okay?’

‘She’s still adjusting to the new Eli. We all are.’ Miguel nodded. The two got out of class to find Sam waiting outside. Demetri saw Y/N walking down the hallway already. He tapped Miguel on the shoulder.

‘I’ll see you later.’ Demetri said as he walked away.

‘Yeah okay.’

‘Hey Y/N! Wait up!’ Y/N turned.

‘Oh hey sorry. I probably shouldn’t have walked off without you. I just can’t stop thinking about Eli.’

‘So what’s new?’ Y/N didn’t respond. ‘Wow no threats of violence? You really are worried.’

‘Aren’t you?’ Demetri shrugged.

‘I don’t know he’s just following what that crazy guy told him to do. It’s a phase. He’ll be back to his old self soon enough.’

‘I don’t know he seems pretty serious...’ Demetri thought about it then nodded slowly.

‘Well, he did get a tattoo.’

‘Yeah he showed me it this morning. He took his shirt off in the hallway…’ Y/N’s words trailed off. Demetri stopped walking.

‘Oh my god. You think this is hot!’ He pointed a finger at her. Y/N covered his mouth and made him start walking again.

‘Shut up!’ Demetri threw his hands up in the air then shook his head.

‘I cannot believe this.’

‘Yeah okay whatever. Even if a part of me likes the new look, I’d take Eli over Hawk any day. If he was just… cosplaying for a con it would be cool but he’s really trying to be this Hawk character.’ Y/N sighed. ‘I’m worried about him.’

Demetri nodded. He understood where she was coming from. Still, what could they actually do?

———————————————————————

Aisha, Miguel, Demetri and Y/N sat on a bench at the park as Hawk practiced karate behind them with Bert. Demetri pointed at the food in Miguel’s hands.

‘Come on, eat something, it’ll make you feel better.’ Miguel shook his head.

‘I told you I’m not hungry man.’

‘I still think you’re overreacting.’

‘I’m not overreacting dude. I know what I saw.’

‘Alright so you saw her eating dinner with some chode.’ Hawk stated before roundhouse kicking Burt in the face. Y/N winced at the sound. ‘It’s probably just her brother or something.’

He walked over to the bench and rested his arms on it. He placed one hand on Y/N’s shoulder.

‘No dude. Brothers don’t look at their sisters like that.’ Miguel shook his head.

‘Depends what part of the country you’re in.’ Demetri said.

‘Look, I just don’t want what happened to sensei Laurence to happen to me.’

‘Try not to overthink it.’ Y/N added. Miguel smiled a little at his friend giving back his own advice. ‘You don’t know all the details to this story. Just ask her about it. I’m sure there’s an explanation.’

‘Yeah. Thanks Y/N.’ Miguel sighed. ‘But what if this guy is something I’ll have to worry about now?’

‘Alright so you go over to this kid and beat his ass so he doesn’t have the chance.’ Y/N and Demetri shared a look. Y/N shuffled so that Hawk wasn’t resting his hand on her anymore. She turned around to look at him.

‘What?’ Y/N questioned. Hawk’s eyes darted to the floor, unable to look at her. Demetri sighed and turned back to Miguel.

‘Don’t listen to Eli.’

‘It’s Hawk.’

‘Yeah, whatever. The fact is, Sam’s given you no reason not to trust her.’ Miguel nodded.

‘Yeah I guess you’re right.’

‘Oh. That. Little. Bitch.’ Everyone looked at Aisha.

‘What?’ Miguel asked.

‘You know that video I posted of me breaking that board?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Look at what Yazmine commented.’ The comment read Impressive. Can’t believe the belt made it around your waist.

‘Oh shit.’

‘I gotta do something.’

‘Alright how bout we kidnap her and have my boy Rico tattoo bitch on her face?’ Demetri and Y/N looked back at Hawk.

‘Calm down Hawk.’ Demetri mocked.

‘Alright I hear how you’re saying it, and I don’t like it.’

‘Guys.’ Aisha showed them her phone again. ‘I’ve got a better idea.’

‘Yazmine’s throwing a birthday party at the Canyon later?’ Miguel read.

‘Not if we strike first.’ Aisha said with a smile.

‘Hell yeah.’ Hawk agreed. The others nodded.

‘Let’s go to the Mini-Mart and stock up.’ The group got up and began to walk. Aisha led them followed by Demetri and Burt, then Y/N, Hawk and Miguel.

Hawk put his hand on Y/N’s waist and pulled her closer. It caught her off guard but she let it happen.

‘I haven’t seen you much today.’ Hawk said. ‘What you been up to?’ Y/N smiled slightly. This sounded more like the Eli she knew.

‘Just classes, you didn’t miss much. What about you?’

‘Yeah same.’ Y/N nodded, leaning more into him.

‘Hey we still haven’t talked about when we kis-‘

‘Oh well during second period some kid laughed at my new cut so I threatened to punch him in his stupid face. Ha that shut him up pretty quick.’ Y/N looked at him, surprised. ‘Were you gonna say something?’

‘No. It’s nothing.’ Y/N began walking in the opposite direction.

‘Hey where you going?’ Hawk called out. The others stopped.

‘I wanna get an outfit and some make up stuff from home. Y’know, since it’s gonna be a party. I’ll meet you guys at the Mini-Mart.’

‘We can go to mine after,’ Demetri said. ‘So you can get ready and we can show up together?’ He looked round at the others. Hawk nodded.

‘I’m gonna go early to set up for the party.’ Aisha said.

‘I’ll help you out.’ Burt added. The group looked to Miguel.

‘Uh I’m gonna go home actually. I’ll meet you guys at the party.’ Y/N nodded at Demetri.

‘Sure. I’ll meet you guys at the Mini-Mart then Hawk and I can go to yours.’ The group agreed and split up. Y/N needed to be alone for a moment. Time to think.

[filmrrys]

Bookcase

Harry Styles x reader

summary: you and harry go out on a date and things happen.

warnings: fluff, angst (if you squint), swearing, SMUT minors dni 18+

word count: 1,536

You were putting on some final touches in the master bathroom upstairs when you hear, “Almost done lovie?”

You set your blush down and say, “Almost!”

You and Harry were going on a rare outing tonight. He was planning to take you to one of his favorite restaurants in Laurel Canyon. You put on some light makeup and were wearing a dress you found at Aralda Vintage. It had a very 70’s-esque flare. It was a long sleeve shimmery fabric with big light orange circles going all around. The dress went up to your mid-thigh which you loved. Putting all your makeup away you trotted down the stairs barefoot.

“I’m ready H” you say laying down your dress with your hands.

“You look gorgeous as always” he kisses your cheek. “I love this fabric is it from that shop you like?” He says rubbing the fabric from your sleeve.

“Never mind the fabric Harry you cleaned up very nicely” you say. He was wearing a simple black shirt tucked into very flared white pants.

“Why thank you lovie shall we head out now?” he says reaching down to put on his cream loafers.

“Yes I’m starving” you say also putting on some black kitten heels while holding your purse.

The way to the restaurant was calming with low music playing. Everything is going great. You’re seated, you order, overpay the check, have a few drinks at the bar you migrated to, have a great time just the two of you.

“I’m going to the bathroom I’ll be back” you say to Harry. As you make your way to the bathroom which is towards the front of the restaurant you can see a crowd of paparazzi standing outside waiting. You didn’t want them to ruin your night with Harry. This is why you barely go to any public places someone either calls the paparazzi or sends an anonymous tip to that menace of an account, deuxmoi.

As you freshen up two young girls come out of the stalls. “Um hi sorry it’s just um are you?…” you smile lightly at them knowing what’s about to happen. “You’re y/n? Right?” Being Harry’s girlfriend definitely brought you into the spotlight. It was a small price to pay to be with him but you loved him so it didn’t really bother you.

You could sense they were laidback so you then say, “That’s me, what are your names?” They introduce themselves and apologize for bothering you. Thankfully they didn’t ask for a photo instead they complimented your dress. If only everyone were like that.

When you walk out the bathroom you see a tipsy Harry laughing with the bartender. You smile and then remember the swarm of cameras waiting for the both of you to walk out.

You make your way to the bar and Harry gestures you to sit on the stool next to him he was saving.

“Want another drink love?”

“Harry there’s um… they somehow found out and they’re at the entrance”

“Ah fuck!” He says turning back to the bar immediately.

“Yeah I know let’s just wait it out for a bit” you say tracing his palm tree tattoo on his arm to soothe him.

You both wait it out for about 30 minutes and none of them were leaving so you gave up.

“Let’s just get it over with” he says getting up leaving the bartender a $100 tip.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah yeah just hold onto me” he says grabbing your purse.

You both make your way to the front of the restaurant. As you approach the hostess Harry turns to them to apologize for the inconvenience. It wasn’t his fault but he still fell immensely guilty.

The way out was hellish with random men shouting you and Harry’s name into your faces. Multiple flashes going off as you try to cover your face. Harry holds onto you tightly making your way to his car. You finally get inside and he starts the car and drives off.

It was silent in the car until you broke it. “I’m sorry Harry I know how much you wanted a normal night out”

“It’s okay it happens I just hate that I can’t control it and can’t protect you from them”

“Harry…” you look over at him putting your hand on his thigh rubbing your thumb over it. He lifts your hand to kiss it still looking at the road. “I’m going to play some music okay?” you say connecting your phone.

“I Just Called To Say I Love You” by Stevie Wonder starts to play. An upbeat song to lighten the mood. You start to playfully sing along and as the chorus bleeds in Harry joins in. The song ends as he pulls into the driveway.

Harry turns off the car and says “Thank you y/n”

“For what love?” You say grabbing his cheek.

“For everything. For being there to calm me down and for being the best. I love you”

“I love you too, Harry” you both share a soft tender kiss in the car. As you separate Harry reaches over again to grab your face with both hands and gives you a hotter, deeper kiss.

“Your lips are so sweet” he says kissing you again. You hum into the kiss.

“I think we should go inside” you say.

“I second that” he unbuckles his seatbelt and runs to the other side to open the door for you to get out.

Harry struggles with the keys to open the door. “Aha” he says finally opening the door. As you both step inside he immediately closes it and presses you against the door. You both start to heavily make out with your hands in his locks and his on your hips. As he tightly grips your hips you’re sharing sloppy kisses with each other. Harry walks backwards towards the living room. He then presses you against the bookshelf.

“Ow” you say laughing. One of the longer books sticking out hitting your rib.

“I think that was my meditation book” he says as he kisses down your neck. His hands move down your dress and he starts to hike it up. Your hands untuck his black shirt from his pants and you lift it up having to separate your lips for a moment. Revealing his chest you gaze at it still mesmerized by his tattoo adorned torso.

Harry finds your panties and starts to tug them down. He then makes you spread your legs and dips two fingers into your cunt.

“Oh Harry” you moan.

“Nice and wet for me hmm?” He says into your ear and you pathetically nod your head. “You know we haven’t tried this before?”

“What?” you say breathy.

“Never fucked you against a bookcase” he says which makes your knees feel weak. He starts to rub your clit driving you insane.

“Take your pants off Harry” you say trying to unbutton them. He takes his pants off along with his briefs to reveal his hard leaking cock.

“Turn around” he says. The dress you’re wearing is tight enough to not let Harry just slide it off. He finds the zipper and slowly unzips your dress. You turn around to be found in a black bra. You then take it off and have your tits on display for him.

“Are you ready?” He says.

“Yes Harry please fuck me” you say as he grabs one of your legs to lift it up. He aligns himself then slowly enters your wet pussy making you both let out a loud moan at the sensation.

“Move Harry please” you say into his ear. He starts to thrust in to you as your back hits the bookcase behind you.

You’re both moaning so loud into your mouths. Pathetically trying to kiss each other but it’s impossible to when it feels so good having Harry pounding into you. He massages one of your tits with his free hand occasionally toying with your nipple.

“Mmm Harry I- I’m close” you say almost whimpering.

“Cum for me love” he says putting his free hand on your clit circling it making you moan at the feeling.

“Oh god Harry!” you moan with Harry letting out a loud groan as you cum all over his cock.

“Love you’re so good for me” he says as his thrusts start to get sloppy. He starts kissing you as his arm falls weak not able to hold your leg up anymore. He lets out a loud moan as he comes undone still inside you.

Both sweaty you start to slowly kiss each other. Harry peppering kisses all over your face. “I’m going to shower”

“Okay” you say putting your hand on his cheek. He bends down and grabs his clothes and yours from the ground and heads upstairs leaving you naked leaning against the bookshelf.

You weren’t sure if you’d be able to walk tomorrow since you were already feeling sore. You walk to the kitchen and get two cups of water for the both of you and shortly join him in the shower. When you’re both done you go to bed and Harry watches you slowly drift off to sleep immediately following after.

[ryosmne]

Three brats??

Dad!Sukuna x f!reader

So this is basically a comfort fic, featuring dad! Sukuna because the brainrot was too much. Ok so, the reader and Sukuna have a son together, yes their son is Yuuji, I know this is usually the single father Sukuna trope, but I wanted to give it a go, feedback is always appreciated. Thanks for brainrotting with me @likeab-o-s-s cause this is the reason this exists. That's all from me enjoy reading.

Warnings: none really, just family, heartwarming fluff.

The air was crisp and fresh, unusually refreshing for the beginning of summer. Parents were already gathered outside the daycare, Yuuji, y/n's and Sukuna's son attended, patiently waiting for their kids to run in their arms again.

Sukuna arrived a couple of minutes before the final bell on his motorcycle, he took off his helmet, leaned back on his bike and waited for the familiar little pink head of hair to come wobling to him.

The three mothers next to him, scooted a bit closer to him to get a better look nothing he's unfamiliar with and no one can blame them, Sukuna is a sight for sore eyes. Leather jacket with the sleeves rolled up, extenuating his board shoulders, exposing his tattoo covered skin, v neck white t shirt, allowing his toned chest and even more of his tattoos to show and a simple black pair of pants hugging his muscular thighs in the best of ways.

In the past some of the bolder ones had mustered the courage and asked him if he was a single father since they had never seen his son's mother, but with a laugh Sukuna brushed them off telling them how his lovely wife was a working parent and her schedule just didn't match the daycares. Maybe the very unconventional wedding rings they got weren't the best idea in this situation, even though they were extremely beautiful and unique.

"I really admire the work you put in the little guy" Sukuna's gaze met a woman who attempted to strike a conversation, oblivious to what she had meant by her statement he replied, maybe these three minutes would pass faster talking about normal things and not stressing about work.

"Don't we all put work on our kids?" He spoke calmly with a slight smile that he always wore when talking about Yuuji.

"Yeah, we do, but it still must be hard I can't imagine what you're going through" Sukuna's mind went to the worst scenario. Was Yuuji a trouble maker at school? He is a very well behaved child, both him and y/n made sure to teach him proper manners and how to be polite, that couldn't be it right?

The bell rung, and kids made their way out of the daycare, Yuuji in the blink of an eye was hugging his father's leg, exited to see him after the hours he was gone. In a swift motion Sukuna put Yuuji's little backpack on his own back and scooped the boy up in his arm.

"Yuuji's a pretty good kid, hes never been difficult" Sukuna smilled again resuming in the short conversation with the woman next to him. "Single father's like you don't get the credit they deserve". She spoke again smiling sadly down to the little pink haired boy who seemed too fixated on the earrings his father was wearing.

Sukuna finally understanding what this whole thing was about, chuckled, this had happened before after all, he should've known.

"I'm not a single parent, speaking of that your mom said she has a big surprise for you after dinner" he said directing his attention to his son again, the woman next to him quickly fumbled an apology for missundertanding, to which Sukuna replied to with a simple 'dont worry about it'. He placed Yuuji on his bike, put on both his and his boys helmet and drove off.

Y/n was still stuck at work, thankfully her husband would cook dinner tonight cause overtime was killing both her and her mood, good thing she finally had a day off tomorrow.

Y/n checked her phone to see how close she was to going home only to find a text that Yuuji's teacher had send her that was obviously meant for her husband.

Hello Mr Itadori, this is Mrs Laura from the day care. I was wondering if you wanted to get launch with me after school tomorrow, you can bring little Yuuji too, I'm awaiting your response, have a nice night.

What the hell was that? Well y/n's number was in Yuuji's contact information, she chuckled at the words displayed on her screen but she couldn't really blame the teach, Sukuna was a walking temptation, she knew that first hand, hell she fell head over heels for the dangerous looking guy who hid a heart of gold under his hard exterior, but the teacher could at least check who the number belonged to.

Y/n run her last errands and made sure to pick up Yuuji's surprise before heading home, she even tipped Sukuna off so their son wouldn't know what hit him.

Y/n made her way inside the family house, tossing her keys somewhere on the living room couch.

Yuuji immediately after hearing her car in the driveway came rushing down the stairs, jumping around her like he always did when she came home.

"Mom, mom you're home." The happiness was evident in the boys face, his smile was wide when y/n dropped to his level to pick him up and spin him around

"Yes I am little devil, did you give your father hell like we agreed?" She spoke in the happiest of tones with Yuuji still in her arms. Another set of arms engulfed her frame making her halt on spinning the little boy.

"So you're telling him to be a little brat now huh?" Sukuna's breath tickled the side of her neck and ear as he rested his head on her shoulder and wrapped his strong arms around her waist. "Welcome home love" he spoke again giving her jaw a ghost of a kiss.

"Daddy is the food ready" Yuuji spoke from y/n's arms, Sukuna only laughed at his son's appetite, and directed both him and y/n to the kitchen where he had already set everything up.

"Mommy, what is a single dad?" Yuuji asked in the middle of dinner in typical fashion of his, any question he had from something he heard through the day would always come up during dinner.

"Well Yuuji, single fathers are the fathers who raise their kids alone." The young boy seemed to think about his mother's words before speaking again. "So its just a daddy ?" Yuuji asked again with his eyes growing a bit sadder, his mother nodded, and Yuuji's eyes started to water.

"Baby what's wrong?" y/n asked. "Hey buddy what's going on?" Sukuna was growing quite concerned too. Yuuji burst in tears leaving his seat, climbing up his dad and hugging him tightly. Sukuna was rubbing his back to comfort the young boy and y/n's hand was stroking the kids hair in an effort to calm him down. "B-but why did that lady c-call you that, is m-mommy l-leaving?" Everything seemed to click for Sukuna, y/n was still confused but in the calmest sweetest voice said "Yuuji, baby look at me, I'm not going anywhere ok?" And the boy left his father's arms and clung on to her like his life depended on it.

Sukuna cracked a few jokes and lightened Yuuji's mood so he could enjoy the rest of his dinner, which went pretty well, he was his smiling adorable self very soon after his parents reassured him that none of them were ever leaving his side and the boy was now drawing with crayons in the living room. He seemed to have completely forgotten about the surprise his father mentioned when he picked him up.

Y/n and Sukuna were doing the dishes in the kitchen, each one talking about their day, Sukuna explained the awkward conversation he had at the daycare that sparked Yuuji's sadness, y/n took a turn in talking about how her son's teacher, basically asked Sukuna out on a date but messed up and texted her. "How about you set up a date and you show up? I mean it's you she texted right?" Sukuna joked "Babe, that's cruel" y/n chuckled at her husband's mischievous nature.

"So you've got everything ready?" Sukuna asked. "yeah who'll bring him over?"

"You do it I'll keep Yuuji busy."

Sukuna joined Yuuji on the couch. "What are you drawing little brat?" Y/n heard him ask their boy in the usual sweet tone he had with him. She made her way down the basement, where she kept the surprise since she came home. Yuuji was going to love this, Sukuna was too, she knew she was already in love as well.

Y/n climbed the stairs quickly, and snuck up behind her son, who was occupied by his dad, she gently tapped the boys shoulder.

"A PUPPY" Yuuji announced exited making sure his voice was still soft not to scare the eager dog that his mom brought to his arms. Yuuji gently held the puppy that was licking his face as he was in a fit of laughter and excitement. Sukuna was as exited as his son and y/n had a huge smile on her face too. Their son had begged and begged for a dog ever since his best friend, Megumi got a black German shepherd puppy. Of course y/n and Sukuna wanted to comply to Yuuji's request right away, but they took time to teach little Yuuji everything there was about the responsibility of owning a dog. They took him to dog cafes and shelters, so he would be the perfect little dog owner, they taught him patience and responsibility beforehand. Sukuna visited the local shelter and decided with y/n on a white Shepard puppy that Yuuji always pointed out in your visits because 'he looks like Megumi's puppy they can be friends like we are' who can say no to that little adorable devil?

The puppy momentarily left Yuuji's arms to lick Sukuna's face. "Now we've got two little brats and a big one in our house." He laughed, enjoying the moment.

Y/n was admiring her son and husband as well as the newest member of the family with a smile plastered wide on her face, life was indeed beautiful.

The next day, both Sukuna and y/n were waiting for Yuuji to finish school, since y/n had the day off. Sukuna had his arm protectively around her because this time, others were staring at what was his, but he was proud to show her off to everyone, even in a place as mundane as his son's daycare.

[shivada-jade]

soulmates!

soulmate!au because im weak. you're weak too.

characters: bennett, zhongli, diluc ➡ mentions: barbara, lisa, guizhong, hu tao, kaeya, crepus warning(s): bennett luck (he gets hurt a lot), wrote this at 2:48am so my writing may or may not make sense

bennett: feels the same emotions from the other, but the emotions have to be strong and genuine

he never understood your sudden bursts of sadness. it would come at the most inconvenient at times.

for as long as he could remember, the emotions that weren't his are mostly sad. he asked his dads about it and gently told him his soulmate system is feeling emotions from the other.

after crying from an unknown pain, he made it his soul purpose to constantly be happy all the time, no matter how unlucky he could be so you can be happy too.

his dads worry when he falls down and scrapes his knee, but he would always reply with, "i'm not hurt! my soulmate is hurt!"

he would then clutch the fabric on his chest tightly, like he's been stabbed with a sword and say, "my soulmate hurts right here."

he heaves a breath, "it doesn't compare to whatever luck i get."

"this pain is bearable," he convinces himself when he comes out a hilichurl camp in cuts and bruises.

"your soulmate needs you to be happy for them," he chastises himself for shedding a tear when another adventurer wronged him.

he visits barbara to heal his wounds and asks how she always looks so... happy, so smiley.

"all it takes is one smile to make yourself happy. it can be a slow process but it works!" she singsongs, "miss lisa showed me a study about it."

ever since barbara explained, he smiles the brightest of smiles in mondstadt. he refuses to let other adventurers let him down, worried he might hurt you more than it is.

soon, he finds out that he feels no sadness coming from you. he feels no weight on his shoulders. he feels happy after Good hunter ran out of food for him.

these are not my emotions, he thinks, a wide grin creeping it's way to his face.

he lets out the loudest laugh, giggles, and various joyous noises. he's never felt so happy in his life. for once, he feels lucky, because for once, you're finally happy in the other end of his invisible red string of fate.

his luck skyrockets when he sees a person around his age, with a gorgeous smile adorning their features. he knows its you, sitting by the fountain making wishes. he knows it's you when he sees your eyes that hold so much emotion.

it was as if his heart was tugging him to where you sat.

he's never felt so lucky to have you as his soulmate.

"thank you giving the best smiles"

zhongli: every time he passes his soulmate, he hears the sounds of bells ringing

now, zhongli never thought he would have a soulmate because of his past title of 'archon.' soulmate systems are a tricky thing. he knows there are so many ways to know your soulmate system.

the common system was their first words tattooed on themselves. many others had the ability to know when they meet them, in other words, a count down.

but zhongli never had those two, nor did he have faith in the soulmate system until the lantern rite festival.

walking by the busy streets, he muses to himself how pretty liyue is under the blanket of the moon and stars. he hears the merchants call to customers, attracting and waving at them to buy their products. he hears the clink of the mora in their bag is loud; the laughter from the children young and old marry a soft smile to his face.

he freezes, hearing something that should not belong in the lantern rite. the sound of bells ringing. it isn't any cow bell, or school bell. it's the sound of echoing, melodious wedding bells ringing his ear.

he vaguely remembers his friend guizhong mentioning about this rare particular soulmate system when she still roamed teyvat.

a soulmate!

zhongli stands straighter, eyes grazing on the sea of people, trying to see if anyone stopped to hear the bells he heard. he mutters a few apologies when people bump into him with lanterns in their hands, but that doesn't matter to him.

fate brought someone for him to love. it's just that... he doesn't know where.

he walks forward, he walks backwards to where he came from. he walks to the docks then to the top of liyue harbour, but he can't hear the sound of the bells again.

he doesn't panic. he doesn't rush, because he knows fate will bring you back together. he just doesn't know how long until he'll hear the bells again.

it came to him a surprise when he hears the bells everyday after that.

everyday when he sits at third-round knockout he hears the sound of bells behind him, but when he turns, he knows you've left already.

he sighs, blowing on his tea before taking light sips. it seems he won't be meeting you today.

one day, the ringing just stops. there's no sign of you, or your presence. zhongli assumes you're just taking a sick day, or you've decided to rest, but after a week of not hearing the bells, he worries.

archons, how he wanted to look for you, but he doesn't even know who you are. hu tao encourages zhongli to take the day off and look for you, so he did.

walking aimlessly in liyue, doubt crosses his mind. what if you were here for a business trip and left? it wasnt until he passes by a stunning figure he hears the bells again. he stiffens and turns to you when you stopped next to him.

"thank goodness," he says, slightly covering his smile with a gloved hand.

your eyes sparkle as you look at him, "thank goodness indeed."

diluc: lost possesions will come to your soulmate

for as long diluc knows, strange things always end up in his possessions: hairclips, pens, coins, and archons forbid- his soulmate's overdue bills.

his father laughs when younger diluc comes home dragging a wagon and the biggest teddy bear in history, because how on teyvat does someone lose a teddy bear taller than a door. crepus watches his son struggling to drag the big toy home and sees his other son pushing the wagon from behind, also struggling.

"what do you have there?"

all the response he gets are grunts. the side of his eyes crinkle with mirth, seeing his two sons having trouble bringing it home.

"father!" diluc calls out with a grin missing two of his front teeth, "i don't know where it came from. it's like it appeared from the sky."

"it actually did fall out of the sky!" kaeya says, "we were at the vineyard and i saw diluc get crushed!"

"i did not get crushed."

"did too," kaeya retaliates, sticking his tongue out.

that was the first time diluc heard of this certain soulmate system. lost things from his soulmate go to his possession; lost things from diluc go to his soulmate's possession.

crepus glances at his boys and gets an idea. he calls for them to follow him, and they do, obediently. he leads them to his room, pulling out a treasure chest full of frilly clothes, dresses, outfits that range from a farmer's outfit to a noblewoman.

"this chest is where your mother kept her favourite things," crepus pulls out a necklace from the bottom of the case. "this necklace was particularly her favourite."

diluc can see why. he's mesmerized by the ruby sparkle it hangs. the gold chain complimenting the red jewel and making it complete.

crepus clutches the necklace, looking at it longingly before placing it back in the chest. he places out all the old clothes from the container and lays it on his bed.

"you can keep your soulmate's things here like i once did. your pops is getting too old anyway, i-"

kaeya interrupts crepus jumps on the clothes that are on the bed, creating a havoc in the room. he jumps on the bed with so much energy even after diluc tells him about the story of the 5 little monkeys jumping on the bed.

though, crepus is having none of that. he picks up diluc by his small arms and flings him to kaeya, looking like a bowling ball knocking down a pin. the two boys gasp for air, shooting dirty looks at their father before they chase him out of the house.

the corner of diluc's mouth twitch up ever so slightly, remembering when he first knew of his soulmate. it would take a very observant person to notice his smile. he polishes the glass behind angel's share's counter. under the filtered sunlight, the glass glints. satisfied with the cleanliness.

the chest his father game him was fill of trinkets his soulmate had lost over the years, and good grief. his soulmate must be the most disorganized person ever. he remembers walking to dawn winery and a sack of mora drop on his feet. it wasn't a pleasant feeling, but the thing that has diluc worried is how his soulmate tends to lose the biggest things like a 7-foot-tall teddy bear.

diluc is about to place the wine glass on a cupboard until SMACK.

a thick paper hits his face from seemingly nowhere and so he knows that is his soulmate losing the tenth thing for the day. he has a room dedicated for the things his soulmate has lost, and he thinks he might need a second room.

he pulls the paper off his face and his eyes widen in shock. this two-inch thick paper are legal documents. loan agreements. overdue loan agreements.

[Name] [Last Name]

he notes the name in his head. [Name] owes the fatui 35 thousand mora as interest. what kind of reckless person- then it hits his mind. that sack of mora that fell from the sky was that 35 thousand to pay off the loans.

he knows where to go. he leaves the wineglass on the counter for charles to pick up and hastily grabs his coat and leaves the door.

"liyue, liyue, liyue, and the fatui." he chants in his head. loans. he greets his maid before ascending to his room. he snatches the mora that dropped on his feet and sprints out the door to retrieve his stallion.

a few hours at most to make it to where his fated partner was at, and so he sets off.

arriving at liyue is strange, seeing diluc's attire did not match the city, and seeing his hands are holding the reins of his horse tightly. a strange traveler from a foreign land... with a majestic stallion. he looks like a prince straight out of a fairytale.

he lightly pats his horse, urging to go a bit faster from the trotting they were doing until he meets the gaze of a distressed person in front of the fatui.

"i swear! i had the money and the papers just today!"

diluc scoffs, knowing who they were now, and they did not have the money today. they lost it a week ago.

"listen," the masked fatui grumbles. "im just here to do my job. if i don't have the money in my hands right now i'll-"

diluc jumps off the saddle and unloads the sack of mora from the side, dropping it on the fatui's hand with a seething glare, yet still polite.

"i believe they owe you 35 thousand? sounds about right, no?" he says, letting his diplomatic side show a bit. "for the sake of it, why not amuse me and take this, david. hmm?"

the fatui goes rigid, hearing his name. he slowly lifts his eyes up, "master diluc." he curtly nods and skittishly walks away. one time david spilled drinks at a mondstadt political gathering. he spilled it on diluc.

the ragnvindr waits for the fatui to walk away before turning to his, supposedly love of his life.

"you're the one who lost a 7-foot-tall teddy bear when i was six," he points out, waiting for your response.

his soulmate sheepishly smiles, "well- i would have a good defense but hey, did you at least enjoy having a 7-feet-tall teddy bear fall on you?"

"i did, along with a glass mug falling on me as well."

"i just cant believe how you never lose your stuff!" they retort, "the only thing i got was a missing tooth from you."

the tip of diluc's ears turn the same colour as his hair, but still wears a stoic expression. "i'm diluc ragnvindr," he greets, slightly bowing his head.

"and i'm yours"

part 2: with ganyu, kaeya and thoma

[charlietheepicwriter7]

High Priest, Pt. 2

From “The Many Akumatizations of Luka Couffaine.” 

The class was, for the most part, silent.

No one knew what to feel after yesterday, Juleka included. It was… Everything was fine, they were all hanging out, and then Lila mentioned that Marinette got out of trouble for bullying her, which was horrible, and… and…

Juleka didn’t know who pushed Marinette. She just knew that someone did. No one goes from backing away from a hoard of angry teenagers to crumpled at the bottom of concrete stairs by the Seine by yourself. And then Lila had said, 

“Wow, I can’t believe she’s faking being hurt. She has a lot of nerve after pushing me down the stairs. I didn’t make such a big deal out of it.”

And they all just left her.

But Marinette wasn’t faking. She’d seen it in Luka’s face when her parents had called him, saying that Marinette was in the hospital and that he needed to come, as her boyfriend (her boyfriend, Luka was her boyfriend, when Lila had told them Marinette had bullied her because of Marinette’s jealousy over how close she and Adrien were-). And now… 

And now…

The class was silent. 

Who was the guilty one, Juleka wondered. Not Lila, she had stood at the back of the group while they accosted Marinette. Not Adrien, who hadn’t gotten involved and hadn’t defended Marinette, a true neutral that wasn’t neutral at all. Not Chloe, who wasn’t even there and chatted away with Sabrina without a care in the world, unknowing or uncaring about their hospitalized friend. But Alya, but Nino, but Kim, but anyone… 

There was a murderer among them. 

A sharp trill of their phones went off, all of them at once. The akuma alert. Alya, who already had her phone out, was the first to shout. “There’s an akuma at Arc Hospital!”

Juleka paled. (“I’m going to Arc Hospital! Tell mom not to wait for me!”)

“Apparently it can transform the environment,” Alya gushed, like her best friend wasn’t in danger. No one noticed Adrien leaving with a rushed excuse about the bathroom - they were all used to his weak bladder by now. “That’s so cool! I’ve never seen an akuma do that before!”

“There might be a sentimonster along with it,” Nino pointed out. “Maybe on the hospital itself, and that’s why it transformed.”

“Oh, that makes more sense!” Alya replied, already packing up her bag. “I’m going to head to the sight; someone has to document the akuma!”

“I’ll go with you,” Nino said. 

The two were heading out the door, nothing too different, when Lila spoke up, shakily raising her hand. “C-Can I come too?” she asked. “It’s just… I’ve been so worried about Ladybug lately; akuma’s have been getting a lot stronger, so I just thought that I could be there for her, cheer her on?”

Alya looked nervous. “Well, actually-”

“That’s a great idea!” Rose gushed, like they didn’t have a friend in that specific hospital. “I’m sure Ladybug will defeat the akuma with her best friend by her side!”

“Yeah!”

“Hey, we should go too!”

“Ladybug will certainly feel empowered if an entire class cheers her on!”

“Sure. She’ll probably end up needing Queen Bee, if the akuma is that powerful.”

We shouldn’t do that, Juleka tried to say, only for the words to get stuck in her throat. Did they see that they were putting themselves in danger, potential hostages for the akuma? But no, they were blind. Lila led them like lemmings, encouraging them, saying “Yes, of course Ladybug would love that, we should all go!”

That’s how, despite her instincts, Juleka was forced into going to ground zero. At least she wasn’t the only one disliking the situation. Both Alya and Nino looked put out for some reason, and Chloe was just unhappy in general. 

The hospital had been transformed into a temple. “Aztec,” Rose whispered as they all stared up at the pyramid. “It looks… like those pictures from that research project Luka was doing.” Juleka nodded and suddenly had a horrible feeling about who exactly the akuma was. The stone looked rough, the mica a sandy-grey. Pictographs were carved into the stone, unlike any Juleka had ever seen, with each image growing more and more graphic in violence as the class climbed the pyramid together. They all… looked like people, she noticed.

The truly concerning factor, however, was the group of people that gathered at the bottom of the pyramid as the class trekked upward. But no one else set foot on the temple. They were utterly alone. 

There was only one entrance into the temple, a wide, gaping mouth of a door. Fire flickered inside the opening. Alya gave a shaky smile as she readied her camera. “Well, I guess we’re expected, right guys?” Her attempt at a joke fell flat as the class inched into the temple. 

The inside was covered in carvings, intricate and beautiful, painted and bright. Most of them depicted a beautiful dark-haired woman with a crescent moon on her forehead being worshiped. Was she the akuma? Some woman with a god-complex that turned the hospital into… this? Torches lined the walls, throwing dark shadows across the paintings. “They look like they’re moving,” Nathaniel whispered, enthralled as the class spread out, everyone looking around the interior. 

Alix frowned. “It doesn’t look very Aztec to me.”

At the center of the room was a glass altar. Or, more accurately, as Juleka approached it, a glass coffin. The frosted glass concealed the content’s identity at a distance, but up close, Juleka realized it was… “Marinette?”

That got everyone’s attention. Shocked gasps and exclamations filled the room. Alya pushed her way to the front. “What? No, it can’t be…”

Nino looked at the coffin nervously. “She can’t be akumatized, can she?”

“Of course not!” Alya spat back, coming to the defense of her comatose best friend. “She’s too strong to-”

Lila clung to Alya, cutting her off. “She was probably so upset that I revealed she was bullying me!” She wailed, the sound grating in the echoing expanse of the hall. “Oh, it’s all my fault that Marinette finally got akumatized!” For a moment, Juleka thought Lila sounded… vindicated? What?

“Cease your lies, Defiler of this hallowed place. -A strong, male, familiar voice boomed out, seemingly from nowhere-“Lest your accursed tongue wound the ears of our slumbering Goddess.”

From the shadows immerged a blue figure, dressed like a stereotypical Aztec priest. His skin, mostly his bare chest and face, was covered in black tattoos, like the line of triangles under his left eye and over his right. He wore a large, jeweled necklace that sparkled in the fire light, and feathers, dark blue and pink, trailed out of his short hair and down his back, past the linen skirt he wore to cover his modesty. 

It was obvious at first glance that the akuma was Luka. 

What was also obvious was the large, ceremonial knife in his hand. 

“Rejoice, heretics, non-believers, and renouncers of the faith,” the akuma said, looking down on their class with cold rage. “The day has come at last to join our Goddess in everlasting peace at her side. For I, the High Priest, have been given the sacred duty of awakening the Goddess of the Moon, the Melody of all Hearts, the Ever-Resting Queen… and it is with your blood that she will live again.”

Rose trembled at Juleka’s side. “Our… blood?” she whispered.

“Correct.” He could hear them, oh no, oh no… “Either through service or sacrifice, it matters little to me. Though my Goddess may wish for you to bleed through service, I care not so long as the blood is taken.”

“You…” Alya growled, then snapped, pointing at the High Priest. “Ladybug and Chat Noir will defeat you and save Marinette, you fiend. And if you think any of us are joining you, you’ve got another thing coming!”

“So, you have chosen death.” The room grew darker, the torches dimming. The High Priest’s eyes glowed neon blue. “Then may my Goddess have mercy on your fleeting soul…

“For I will have none.”

Taglist: @larasilvestris   @vixen-uchiha    

[elareine]

This is an old-ish piece I wrote for @scootboot97. It's set in a universe he came up with where a barely-legal Tim hits up a couple on Craigslist to lose his virginity.

He gets his first tattoo at sixteen.

The artist doesn’t ask for his age, just studies the design with interest. “Did you do that yourself?”

Roy nods. “Yeah.” He’s always liked drawing. Looking through his designs, the scorpion and the letters ‘POISON’ just seemed fitting.

“That’s really good, man,” the artists says, “you should consider doing this for real later.”

Roy doesn’t say anything. He knows the other man can see the marks on his arms. There won’t be anything like that in his future.

-

After rehab, he adds another design right underneath it. Same color scheme, a skull with a bow and seven arrows—one for each time he tried getting sober. It’s a reminder and a promise.

A month later, he meets Jason and Kori. Roy never told them, but he credits that tattoo with his good luck. A physical manifestation of his wishes of the future, or something, and there they are. None of them have any money except for a fortune in trust issues, but they make do, and within weeks Roy can’t imagine his life without them.

It’s not a surprise when Jason kisses him as so much a ‘oh, there you are.’ They belong to each other, after that, no matter who else they fuck. Roy will never have to find out whether he’d have managed to stay clean without Jason’s help, and he’s thankful for that.

-

He adds a tattoo to his other arm—a monster, a nightmare, with a long tail that turns into an arrow. It’s meant to show his way out. Moving forward, even if the monster never leaves.

This time, he asks the artist: “So, what would I need to do to get into this business?”

He gets offered an apprenticeship on the spot.

-

Gradually, he fills up his sleeves. There are open shackles for what he left behind, and flowers for where he’s at now; a flame with bright eyes for Kori, and a red theatre mask for Jason. Everything important gets etched into his skin, covering up the scars of his past.

There’s a cigarette burn on his chest. That’s one mark that isn’t self-inflicted.

“I’m thinking about covering it up,” Roy tells Jason one evening. They’re in bed, or what counts as a bed these days. It’s just a cheap mattress on the floor, honestly. The downpayment for the flat was just about all they’ve been able to afford.

Doesn’t matter. They have a home, now. Roy would sleep on the bare floor for that.

“What are you thinking?”

Roy shrugs, as much as that’s possible with a giant draped over him. “Dunno yet. Got any suggestions?”

Jason, bless him, thinks about it, absently dropping a kiss onto the scar. “A heart. Because you survived.”

“Aww, you sap.”

“Shut up.”

-

Roy does get the heart. He adds an extra flourish, though.

“Don’t you always rant at me about clients who want to get their s.o.’s initials?” Jason’s voice is sarcastic, even biting, but Roy sees the way he looks at his name on Roy’s skin and doesn’t buy any of his bullshit.

“Okay, A, we both know we’re stuck with each other.” Roy ignores the way Jason’s mouth opens, ready to argue. “And B, doesn’t matter. Whatever happens, you’re important enough to be there.”

They stare at each other. Then all the tension leaves Jason’s body. He reaches out and traces the letters with something like reverence. “And you call me sap,” he whispers.

Roy doesn’t call him out on the wetness in his eyes. If there’s some in his own eyes, well… This is as good as a proposal for them. He can allow it, just this once.

-

Jason’s YouTube channel takes off. It’s the best thing to happen to them, honestly. Now Jason can quit that construction job, and Roy doesn’t have to feel guilty every time he leaves for the studio because he’s doing what he loves, but doesn’t pay well.

In commemoration, Roy gets his favorite comment from one of the earliest videos added do his sleeve. It just says: ‘Awesome advice and THAT ASS.’

Jason laughs and gets his own: an intricate geometric design along his arms and shoulders that spreads into wings across his back. It’s the kind of work that takes hours and several sessions to complete, and Jason insists on paying the studio for Roy’s time. The final flourish is his signature, right on the soft skin at the back of Jason’s neck where he’s most vulnerable.

When it’s finally healed, Roy runs his tongue along his name, and thinks: Mine.

-

With Tim, it takes longer.

No, that’s a lie. Roy looks down at the trusting young man sleeping on his chest that first evening and knows that their ideas about a quick hookup are doomed. Jason is clearly thinking along the same lines, because he’s in the kitchen whipping up something to feed their guest. It just takes longer for it to stop feeling fragile.

When it does, Roy seriously considers adding the Craiglist logo or something. Jason talks him out of it. In the end, he decides on that ridiculous crop-sweatshirt Tim wore that first time. Dorky and sexy at the same time—that’s Tim for him.

Tim, of course, notices the addition right away, blushing bright red as he peels Roy’s jacket off. It takes him a week to bring it up, though.

Roy doesn’t push. He doesn’t understand what makes Tim withdraw at times like these, why he seems to take some parts of their relationship for granted while others throw him for a loop, but he doesn’t have to.

They’re piled on top of each other on their narrow couch, trying to catch their breath after some really rather fantastic sex (if Roy says so himself), when it happens.

Tim is tracing the outline of the pictures on Roy’s arm, finger finally landing on the sweatshirt. “I didn’t think—“ He doesn’t finish, but they hear the end of the sentence, anyway. I didn’t think that I’m important enough.

“Actually,” Jason says, “I’d like to have your signature, too.”

Roy smiles at him fondly (Jason is the bravest of them, sometimes) and adds: “And I, your name.”

Tim looks overwhelmed, so he adds: “Eventually. If you want us to.”

Jason leans over him and cups Tim’s face, thumbing over his hot cheeks with a gentleness outsiders would never think him capable of. “No hurry, okay? We just wanted you to know.”

-

In the end, Tim comes to Roy. Jason’s birthday is coming up, and Tim knows what he wants. It’s simple, three lines intertwining around two sets of initials; still Roy has to swallow from time to time as he etches it into Tim’s skin. Jason is going to love it.

-

His colleague adds Tim’s name to his chest while Jason and Tim watch. Then Jason stretches out on the bench and Tim steps closer, taking one of Jason’s hands in his own. Tim’s other hand goes to rest on Roy’s back as he works, and Roy swears his hand has never been steadier.

Adding Tim’s signature to Jason’s back feels like a circle closing.

-

When Roy looks into the mirror and thinks about that sixteen-year-old that used some of the last money he had to get a tattoo, he can’t help be proud. Because that, that right there, is the proof that he did something with his life, everything and everyone important to him displayed for everyone to see.

There’s a murderous-looking green bird for Damian, an elegant blue one for Dick, and a looking glass for their father, who distrusted the two of them so much in the beginning and has secretly been paying their rent for months now. Alfred’s cup of tea is snug next to Cassie’s knife. Kori’s flame is still bright. And over his heart, where a scar used to be…

Roy touches the two names and smiles.

-

Drabble Song Challenge 15/50: Tausend Tattoos [Thousand tattoos] - Sido

[multific]

Keanu Reeves Dating Someone Who is Covered in Tattoos and is a Secret Service Agent - Headcanons

Keanu Reeves x Reader

Request: Hey I love your writing. I was wondering for hcs if you could do some for Keanu Reeves with dating someone who is covered in tattoos and is a secret service agent please.

A/N: Thank you very much!

First of all, this man is a REAL gentleman

He wouldn’t care if you are covered in tattoos or if you have none

But you would often find him looking at them and asking the meaning behind each and every one

Even if after many years together he would have the whole thing memorised, he would still ask

He loves hearing you talk about your life before him

And if you have tattoos after meeting him

You best believe he would be thrilled to go to the Tattoo shop with you and watch the artist work

He would want to make sure it’s perfect

When you tell him that you are an agent, he wouldn’t believe you

He would look at you like ‘Very funny, Y/N.’ and just ignore your ‘joke’

It isn’t until a few things happen, when he finally starts to believe

Like he comes to pick you up after work, and the guard just doesn’t want to let him into the building

Or when he watched you catch a falling mug mid-air, reflexes sharp

Or when he met your co-worker and they pretended like they didn’t know you

But Keanu saw the woman talking to you just the day before

Then he started to believe you

Keanu got more interested

He wanted to know more

But when he asked about your job, you only gave vague stories or you flat out said that it is confidential

At first it irritates him, he wanted to know more

But as the years pass, he thinks it’s badass that you can’t share everything

Would totally ask you about his John Wick training

He would want to make sure the movie is as accurate as can be

And when you give your feedback he would go to the director

“I know someone.” he would explain when the director would ask how did he know so much?

Would totally show you off

To everyone

Even if he can’t mention your line of work

He would still be like “Yup, that’s my girlfriend.”

He would often joke about ‘finding a confidential document so you’d have to kill him’

But when you don’t laugh he would be concerned

Him being away for filming is good because you can schedule your work at the same time

Arriving home when he is there is like everything you would ever want

It’s warm, homey, nice and it means cuddles

Him arriving home when you are there is just the same

Warm, homey, soft and it means love-making all night long

And since you have some special skills, you’d totally find the engagement ring he hid in his drawer

Life would be just like him, perfect

Taglist: imreadinggoaway @fleursirvart v-2bucky ehsebastiancrunch-time-sports  @pxstelrainbow ablogbypeteparker liamssmilersmexylemony @greenarrowhead feelingsareharddd@thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @avengers-r-us @destynelseclipsa   @spilledinkindumpster celebsimagine@capsiclesdoll snoopy3000 @firstangeldragonranch @puknow crazzyter  @alwayshave-faith @soleil-dor @alex12948 scream-kiwi79  @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

My taglist is open!

Feedback is greatly appreciated. Thank you for reading my story!~

[asimpletroll]

(A) (M) Chisaki Kai X (O) (F) Reader

You?

You were the Omega who had been stinking up his base for the last month?

YOU?

"-so sorry, so so sorry, I didn't see you, I was looking for Eri, Rappa startled her again, I swear I didn't mean to bump you-" You babble at Chisaki, close to your heat and scared of every Alpha in the base at the moment. You don't realize how his eyes have zeroed in on you, you're too busy cowering against the wall, trying to apologize and make sure he doesn't hit you, or worse.

"Be quiet." You immediately shut up, your throat feeling constricted even though he didn't use his Alpha tone or his Quirk on you, you look at him with watering (e/c) orbs as he strides over, taking off his coat slowly. "Your slick is dripping. I'll have someone else look for Eri, you need to get to your nest."

"...I...I live in the barracks, I-I can't-"

"Then come with me." He wraps an arm around you with care he never uses, making sure to keep his coat (you're so small it drops nearly to your knees, and Chisaki is swooning on the inside at how cute you look) between the two of you and wrapped securely around you so that no one else sees your current...predicament.

Chisaki notices your fear increasing, almost every step towards his private wing making you pump out more and more fear in your scent.

Normally, he can't even smell you, which is mildly disappointing to him because you smell citrus-y and a little sweet, but it was always very subtle and clean.

Now, all he could smell was your fear, and the urge to hole you away from everyone and everything was making him very twitchy as he opens the door to his wing.

You instinctively pause upon the threshold, your Omega screaming that this means this Alpha likes you, that it was time to Mate. Chisaki waits for you patiently, knowing the battle you're fighting and being fascinated by the micro-expressions racing through you. Your pupils twitch slightly in every which way, your ears perk and shift a little with noises, and your nose wrinkles a little (like the bunny he had as a child would) as you get particularly stressed.

"I cannot find you someplace comfortable if we loiter for much longer." He finally speaks up and tells you, you flinch a little, but follow his unmentioned command of 'hurry up' and almost bump into him again as he closes the door.

As soon as it shuts, lights flick on, and this time he gently wraps an arm around your waist as you spook. He gently lets you recover from your heart attack adjust to his touch, then guides you past several rooms that reek of other Alphas to you, and the locks on the door along with how reinforced they are tell you all you need to know about what might be in those rooms.

"I am unfamiliar with creating a space for a Heat, but I understand you require lots of blankets and soft things?" Chisaki asks you lowly, he spots the tiny hairs on the back of your neck rising, and your own scent smells sweeter, even with the fear overlaying it.

"Yes." You whisper, and try to hide (due to his lack of comment, you guess you hide it) the fact that you get mildly horny at just his voice.

Chisaki is amused by this, mostly by the fact that your entire face had turned red and was a very clear indicator of your dilemma to him.

"Why are you so afraid, Omega?" He asks you conversationally, as if he had by total and complete accident of course not dropped his voice several octaves just fool with you. You repress a shiver, and he grins under his mask, a very feral and smug grin, as he gently inhales your sweetened scent a bit more.

"M-My parents...they didn't...didn't want an Omega...didn't want me...so they would destroy my nests...even before I was revealed to be Quirkless..." You murmur quietly, timidly almost, to him, and he feels himself harden at how perfect you were for him.

"Why would they do that? Children smaller than four years old require softness or they are in danger of chewing something into pieces or eating it whole." Chisaki keeps his voice low, loving how you try and repress another shiver, and your pheromones almost choke him as he tries to gently sniff them again.

If you two didn't find an appropriate area soon, he may simply take you to his den, which would be twice as dangerous for the both of you.

"I...I don't know...it was...mildly better...after my little brother was born. He was a boy, an Alpha too, and he had a Quirk." You tell him, trying to make your clenching pelvic muscles stop their ridiculousness. Chisaki is too busy rolling his eyes to notice that you're starting to hold on to his coat a little tighter to try and hide the fact that your pants are officially soaked through.

"Oh...they're those types of people..." Chisaki says, his voice the lowest yet in barely-withheld rage, and a pitched whine escapes you before you wrap a hand around the base of your throat. Chisaki almost walks into a wall in surprise, you immediately sidestep as he steadies himself.

"I'm sorry-" You immediately return to the babbling mess you were in the hall, trying to appease him when even you can tell he isn't angry, in fact, if the crinkles by his eyes are any indicator, he's smiling under his mask.

But you're scared. And horny. So you run your mouth without thinking, apologizing frantically before he gently wraps his arm around your waist, he gently tugs you close to him, you keep your eyes averted and lowered to the floor, but he removes his face mask entirely in order to kiss your forehead gently.

You clench the hand around your throat tighter as he re-places his mask back on his face, he then runs a hand through your short hair tenderly. You look up at him from under your eyebrows, your lashes dark and long and thick as they frame your gorgeous (e/c) orbs.

"You simply startled me, there is no reason to apologize." He rumbles to you, his voice much lower now as his Alpha starts to really push for some attention. He watches with amusement and arousal as you clench your legs together, the slick now dripping low enough for him to see it, even with his jacket around you. "But may I ask you something?"

"Y-Yes, sir." You squeak, Chisaki goes from hard to full-blown, raging erection, you can barely hear him inhale, a very subtle noise that doesn't quite click in your mind until he presses the two of you together.

"...have you ever had an Alpha before?" He purrs, your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head and all the fear leaves you immediately as you melt into him. "I'm guessing not."

"N-None o-of them-" You squeak slightly in indignation as Chisaki plucks you up from the floor like a ragdoll, gathering you into his chest and not minding your wet and sticky slick soaking into his chest. "-None of them ever w-wanted a Q-Quirkless Omega."

Chisaki is immediately disappointed, not in you or anything about you, but at the rest of society for letting such a sweet and pure thing sink so low as him.

"They were fools then, and did not deserve you." Chisaki turns down a hall, and it's getting very hard for you to not nuzzle him. His musky, beautiful scent was everything you've ever liked, blended together in such a complex way you couldn't describe all of the unique notes and subtle tones of it. Chisaki notices you eyeing his neck and gently presses your face into it, you let out a startled, but pleasantly so, squeak, and he purrs for real this time at the adorable noise.

Your slick surges and you let out a much higher-pitched purr, leaning in against him as he opens a door quietly, the hall light flicks off and leaves you in darkness before Chisaki gently closes the door with his heel. You've buried your face in his neck, blinding yourself to the fact that Chisaki has brought you to his room, his den and haven.

At least, until his no-longer-gloved hands sneak their way under his jacket, undoing a single button on your shirt to lay themselves on your bare waist. You gasp softly in surprise, moving your face from his neck just enough to give him a startled look.

He nuzzles you, closing his eyes and leaning his back against the door as he openly relaxes, holding you close while gently fondling your slightly-chubby-but-not-noticeably waist.

"C-Chisaki?" You squeak, one of his hands immediately rolls your shirt up and off of you, you squeak again in surprise, but he tossing your shirt and his coat haphazardly onto the floor. You immediately cover your breasts, your face once again blushing strongly, and he quickly does away with his masks as well, hanging them on a hook by the door as he gently turns your face to his by tenderly grasping your chin.

"I want you, Omega. I want you, (Y/N)." He rumbles, striding forward as you turn into a flustered, slicking, horny mess in his arms. His voice is like pure sex but only the deep, tasteful, romantic parts of it.

You mewl a little as he gently places you on his bed, but he rests his arms by your head and kisses you deeply, swallowing anymore noise with tenderness and care. You forget about your embarrassment as he gently move his lips against yours, his cock straining against his pants and pressing up against your legs a bit as he leans over you.

"Do you want me also?" Chisaki murmurs to you once the two of you run out of air to suck from each other's lungs, you immediately wrap yourself around him tightly. "Do you want me like I want you, (Y/N)?"

"Yes, Chisaki, yes I want you-" You don't get another words out as he kisses you again, his hands easily finding and undoing your bra before starting on the buttons of his shirt. Once you run out of air, he starts kissing the underside of your jaw as you pant quietly, he has to pause (his frustration visible) in order to pull his shirt off. You immediately touch the intricate, but traditional tattoos on his arms, pecs, and (you're willing to bet) his back. "You're so pretty, Chisaki."

"So are you, (Y/N), you just don't have art to paw at." He purrs as he descends on you again, you happily undo his tie for him as he kisses you, and the fact that you fumble with it from the distraction of kissing is adorable to him, and he can feel a small wet patch grow do to his leaking precum. You two pause again, and he attacks your throat and neck with powerful sucks and languid swipes of his tongue as you grind your clothed sex against his.

You gasp quietly when he whips your bra across the room, but he gently fondles one breast and you turn into a melty mess again. He chuckles, happily going back to his network of hickies trailing down your throat and across your shoulder. You happily tangle your hands in his hair, pressing him against you further with soft mewls of encouragement.

"A-Alpha, stop teasing!" You finally reach your breaking point, Chisaki almost rips your dress slacks in his immediately eagerness to get them off of you, you giggle a little and he blushes, burying his face in your neck before you tempt him out with kisses to his cheekbone and nose and the tip of his ear.

Then he actually rips them, his face morphing into one of shock and embarrassment as you giggle loudly and nuzzle him. He mumbles a hasty apology before eagerly pulling them off you, taking your panties with and tossing the mess by the foot of the bed before crawling up your body and trailing lazy kisses up from your bellybutton.

"Why are your pants still on?" You tease, kissing his nose before he can reply, he nips your bottom lip playfully, stilling feeling you up as you squirm gently.

"So impatient, (Y/N)." He teases right back, gently tugging on one of your nipples, you steal another kiss from him as he other hand (that is not forming a bruise on your nipple, not at all, no siree) trails down and teasingly circles your puffy little clit. You gasp in surprise, and Chisaki happily presses forward and slips his tongue and one finger into you at the same time. You melt into a happy, horny, submissive puddle under him, causing him to let out a deep and rumbling purr as he explores your mouth with fervent heat and dominance.

He gently explores your opening too, feeling you flutter around that single digit and getting painfully hard in his pants as he stretches you around a second finger. Your slick makes it easier, but it's still painfully obvious that you are still new at this. (So is Chisaki, but he's hoping you're too horny and heat-addled to realize this.)

You eagerly spread your legs a little, beyond ready for this part as your fingers once again find their way into Chisaki's well-kept hair and tangling it. You moan as his two fingers start to gently stretch you, you can feel Chisaki smile into the kiss a little before it goes from 'romantic exploring' into a creature of teeth and tongue and lots of purring from you both.

Unfortunately, Chisaki knows that you still need prepping, and as much as he enjoys the savage kiss, he separates to let you breathe and whimper and mewl as he continues to stretch you. (Both of you think this is taking a while, but this hasn't even been ten minutes since your butt hit his mattress.)

You surprise him when you nip his ear, but he happily turns your head and sucks on the tender skin underneath one of yours, returning you to the panting, mewling puddle. Your slick has surged so many times, his entire hand is covered up to his wrist, and he hasn't even gotten knuckle-deep yet.

"Such a messy Omega, (Y/N), look at what your naughty cunt has done to my hand." Chisaki purrs absolute filth into your ear, and your eyes roll slightly as you let out a porn star-worthy moan, his hips grind up against you exposed inner thigh roughly as he lets out a possessive growl. "Tell me, my messy Omega, who's making you so wet?"

"You, Chisaki, you are, Alpha!" You mewl, he slips a third finger in, starting to actually move deeper into you as you moan again, he happily continues to dirty-talk in your ear, telling you that this would have happened a lot sooner if you had told him that you were an Omega, he would have gladly bent his little nanny over his desk anytime. Or maybe he should've made you Present yourself to him, without any pesky suppressants to quell your scent, then he would've seen what a messy little cunt that hide itself in such a clean, proper suit would've been capable of.

Or maybe he should open the door, let the entire base hear you get railed.

You dissolve under him, not realizing that he's dissolving right with you, pulling his head closer to you as he finally extracts his fingers and simply Overhauls the rest of his clothes off. (Speaking of, where are your shoes? You swore you had them on in the hall, but your feet are bare now.)

"(Y/N), this may sting." Chisaki whispers into your ear, his head nudging your entrance gently, you tuck your face into his neck tightly, but you aren't afraid, simply nervous.

It does sting, but only enough to make you gasp a little, and that gasp is mostly from shock at Chisaki's sheer size. His girth and length were both big, and while he knows you've never had an Alpha before, this still made his already huge ego blimp.

"Chisaki, Alpha, you're huge." You pant into his neck, he struggles to fit himself into you, and you can feel the veins throbbing against your walls as he slowly sinks in, inch by inch, and you mewl once he reaches your G-spot. You pant against his skin as he slowly bottoms out in you, you can feel him twitching inside of you, but you were seeing stars anyway. "A-Alpha-"

"Sh, (Y/N), you need to adjust, Omega." He purrs into your ear, but his cock twitches strongly inside you at the thought of wrecking you severely, to where no man or Alpha could ever satisfy you again. "You're like a vice, Omega, you're squeezing me so tightly. What will happen when I blow my knot, hm? You're so small, I could break you in half with it."

You let out a sinful noise that Chisaki can barely recognize as an orgasm as you sink your teeth into his neck a little. You wrap your legs around his slim waist, anchoring him to you as your walls try to milk him through your orgasm.

"I can't wait for that sound to be my name, to hear you scream so hard the walls rattle-" This kick-starts his dirty-talk again as you slowly calm down, occasionally he shifts his hips, stimulating you just enough for you to know he's teasing you again. You actually clamp down on him and he buries his face in your shoulder with a groan that could make millions, and he slowly grinds against you.

"Naughty Omega, you naughty, naughty Omega." He rumbles from your shoulder, you pant happily in his ear, every deep, slow roll of his hip making you see stars all over again. "I should punish you for that, you naughty thing."

"Then punish me." You pant in his ear, the lick up the shell of it as he groans again, pushing a little harder against you this roll, "Punish me Alpha, make me regret teasing you."

Chisaki rumbles, he drags his hips out, and you expect another languid roll that hits all the right places, but he slams into you like a bullet-train instead.

You try to gasp in surprise, but he smirks against you skin, and that is the only warning you have before he starts pistoning his hips into yours at barely-human speeds.

"Gladly, Omega."

~

You open your eyes, sprawled out across Ch-Kai's chest, your face nuzzled under his chin softly as he continues to sleep while fully sheathed in you. You blink slowly and lazily a few times, trying to remember what day it is, and yawn quietly as you ponder. Kai shifts under you slightly as he stirs, you gently press your face back into the comfortable position you two had.

"How long have you been awake, (Y/N)?" He purrs at you, gently nuzzling you back as you yawn quietly against his throat. "Not long, sleepy-head?"

"Of course not, or I would've brought food." You sit up a little, your fresh Mating Mark stinging slightly as part of the coverlet falls off that shoulder. Kai gently licks it, you hum and kiss the side of his face gently. "If my math is right, today is Kurono's turn to make breakfast, he usually does something simple, like Omurice."

"Yes, but breakfast requires getting out of bed." Kai mutters, gently pulling you back down on his chest, you muffle a laugh at him as he settles his chin on the top of your head. "What? Eri was right when she called you the perfect cuddle-partner, as it turns out."

[storiesforallfandoms]

she’s a baddie ~ machine gun kelly

word count: 1846

request?: yes!

“Hi! I have a request for mgk (if your requests are open still) but I was thinking maybe something like colson’s girlfriend is a total badass and like has a bunch of tattoos and maybe is a rapper herself and he is kind of just gushing over her and tells everyone he can about how cool she is? <3″

description: in which he loves to gush about his badass rapper girlfriend at every opportunity

pairing: machine gun kelly x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

The minute he walked into the studio and saw her, Colson was in love.

Dom had asked Colson to be on a song with him and a long time friend of his, a fellow rapper named (Y/N). Colson agreed - he always loved to work with Dom and he loved to meet new people to collaborate with.

He wasn’t sure what he expected of (Y/N), but it definitely was not what he actually got.

(Y/N) was in the booth recording her verse. Already, her rapping abilities were for beyond even Colson’s. He was extremely impressed with her lyrics. As for her appearance: she was wearing a pair of tight, ripped jeans, a white button up dress shirt that was completely open with the sleeves rolled up, revealing the sports bra she was wearing underneath.

With all that skin exposed, Colson could see that she was nearly completely covered in tattoos. Her arms were covered in tattoo sleeves, all the way down to her hands and even fingers. There was an undercarriage tattoo poking out from under her sports bra, and another poking out from her waistband around her hip. She even had one on her neck!

She radiated badass energy, and Colson was drawn to her.

Dom looked up from where he was sat and got up to hug Colson. “Hey mate! Just in time, (Y/N) is finished her verse!”

(Y/N) had stopped rapping when she noticed the commotion outside. She was looking at Dom and Colson, as if waiting for them to tell her what to do.

“(Y/N), come meet Kells!” Dom called.

She walked out from the booth and smiled at Colson. “Nice to meet you. Dom talks so highly of you, and I’m a bit of a fan.”

Colson smiled and shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, too. Dom’s talked you up to me a lot, too. You definitely live up to the hype.”

(Y/N) tried to hide her smile to keep her cool status, but Colson could see the corners of her mouth tilting upwards. She put her hands in her pockets and shrugged modestly. “I’m okay I guess. Thanks though.”

“Her verse is amazing,” Dom said, bringing the attention back to him. “Just wait till you hear it when it’s finished.”

Colson sat with Dom to go over the verse he had written. (Y/N) sat behind them, distracting herself on her phone while the men worked. Every so often he would glance over his shoulder at her, hoping to catch her attention for even just a moment.

“She’s single mate, go for it,” Dom said in a low voice, but certainly not low enough that (Y/N) didn’t hear it.

Colson’s eyes widened and he quickly looked over his shoulder at her again. Her attention was still on her phone, but there was a knowing smile on her face.

When the three had finished in the studio and were preparing to go, Colson finally decided to talk to (Y/N). She was heading out the door when Colson approached her, falling into step beside her.

“Your tattoos are cool,” he said, immediately cringing at how lame the compliment was.

(Y/N) smiled brightly at him. “Thanks! They better be for how long they took and how much they cost. Yours are pretty sick too.”

“Thanks. A few of them are kind of old and I regret a little but that happens.”

“When you have as many as we do, you eventually regret one or two.”

There was an awkward silence as the two continued into the parking lot. Colson tried to wrack his brain for some way to save the conversation, but everything he came up with felt dumb or lame. He felt his heart fall to his stomach when (Y/N) pulled keys from her pocket and unlocked a car in front of them. He knew he’d eventually see her again, but he didn’t want their time to end just yet.

Before getting into her car, (Y/N) turned to Colson and put her hand out. “Give me your phone.”

He was taken back by such a direct request that his mind couldn’t comprehend what she had asked at first. “What?”

“Phone, unlock, give.”

Colson took his phone from his pocket and did as she asked. (Y/N) opened the contacts app on his phone and added her name and number, and even took a selfie of herself to set as the contact photo. She sent herself a text so she could have Colson’s number before passing the phone back to him.

“Let’s get drinks some time,” she told him before climbing into her car and starting it up. The roaring of the engine made Colson realize that even her car was badass.

He never would’ve guessed that that one encounter would’ve led to such a strong relationship between the two of them. Colson took (Y/N) up on her offer to go get drinks and, next thing he knew, he was waking up the next morning with her in his bed after deciding to be in a real relationship.

When the news hit the media, both of their fanbases exploded with excitement, saying how (Y/N) and Colson were perfect for one another. Even the tabloids couldn’t find a bad thing to say about the relationship. In fact, they constantly praised the two and complimented them whenever they were saw out together. As much as Colson hated the vultures that were paparazzi, it was hard to be as angry when they were actually saying nice things about him and the woman he loved.

And Colson couldn’t get enough of hyping his girl up. Even when she wasn’t there, all he did was talk about how cool and badass she was. It eventually got to a point that his friends would have to tell Colson that every time he mentioned (Y/N)’s name when she wasn’t around, they were going to hit him.

On the night of Dom’s album release, which featured the song that had brought Colson and (Y/N) together, Dom decided to throw a massive party to celebrate. Colson showed up with his friends, fashionably late as always. It didn’t take him long to navigate the large crowd to find his stunning girlfriend, who was wearing a skin tight black dress that hugged her body and came down to her thighs, paired with a pair of black stiletto heels and her hair pulled back in a braid. Colson couldn’t help but let his eyes wander over her body as he walked up behind her. He wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her cheek, bringing her attention away from her conversation to him for just a moment.

“Sorry to steal her away,” Colson said to her conversation partner, “but I just had to tell my girlfriend how fucking stunning she looks tonight.”

A bright smile spread on (Y/N)’s face as the person she was talking to made a fake vomiting sound, but was smiling none the less.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, hot stuff,” she said with a wink. “Wanna grab a drink and I’ll be over in a minute?”

“Sounds good, baby.”

Colson kissed her head as his hand trailed from her waist to her ass, giving it a quick squeeze before walking away. (Y/N) turned and watched him go with wide eyes, but also with an amused smile on his face. He smirked to himself as he made his way to the bar.

Slim and Rook were already stood there, two empty glasses in hand but too distracted by their conversation to get refills. Colson ordered two drinks, one for himself and one for (Y/N), before looking back across the crowded room at her. An involuntary smile stretched across his face as he looked at the familiar tattoos that were peaking out from her dress.

“Bro, if you say one thing about (Y/N) I am going to punch you in the fact,” Slim said, snapping Colson out of his trance.

“What?” he said. “Dude I wasn’t going to say anything about her.”

“You have that look on your face man,” Rook pointed out. “The look that says the next thing out of your mouth is gonna be something about how badass (Y/N) is.”

The bartender passed Colson his drink and he immediately swallowed half of it. “I’m sorry for thinking my girlfriend is the coolest shit since sliced bread, but that’s how relationships are supposed to work.”

“That’s not how they’ve worked with you before,” Slim said.

“Yeah, before it was a lot of sex and PDA and eventual fighting,” Rook added.

“What I have with (Y/N) ain’t like that, guys,” Colson said. “I know I move way too fast in relationships and they all end the same way, but when I say that it was love at first sight for me with (Y/N), I mean it. I mean, look at her, how can you not love her? She’s not just another girl who wants to be all over me and gets jealous or upset when I’m gone for long because she actually understands that this is how my job works. And she likes to drink and smoke weed and party, so she’s actually fun to hang out with. On top of all that...well...just look at her! She’s smoking hot and badass as fuck. I’m sorry that I tend to talk too much about her and all, but I can’t help it. I’m really happy.”

During his speech, Colson hadn’t noticed that (Y/N) had finished with her conversation and approached the three of them. She joined the group just in time to hear how happy he was to be with her, which had managed to bring happy tears to her eyes. She tried to blink them away as to not ruin her makeup, but it was hard when Colson’s kind words were replaying in her head.

“You mean that?” she asked, causing the three men to jump and to look at her.

“Damn, you move quick girl,” Slim commented.

“How much did you hear?” Colson asked.

“Enough of it,” she responded.

Slim and Rook exchanged a glance before excusing themselves from the conversation. Colson held out (Y/N)’s drink to her and she gladly took it. She leaned into his side as he wrapped his arm around her again, fitting perfectly against him like two puzzle pieces.

“I meant every word I said,” he told her. “I think you’re the coolest chick I’ve ever met and then some. Way too good to be dating a dork like me.”

“You’re anything but a dork,” she said. “And even if you were, you’re my dork, and I can’t imagine having anyone else by my side.”

Colson smiled that adorable, goofy smile that (Y/N) loved so much. She mirrored it before leaning up to kiss his lips. His grip around her waist tightened as he held her close, never wanting to let her go.

[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.”

[yslkook]

RAINBERRY (6)

mind of mine masterlist

summary: you share a series of moments with jungkook, come to several realizations about sora. things shift...for the better or for worse? pairing: “badboy” jk x “shy/reserved” oc warnings: cursing, alc, excessive use of pet names, kinda toxic friendship, suggestive content (hooking up)

word count: 7305... yeah idk what happened lmao

a/n: if you want to be tagged, send an ask plz

***

“You come here often?” A voice behind you murmurs in your ear. You nearly jump, but you already know who it is.

Jungkook. Ever since he had texted you letting you know that he was on his way, you’d been eagerly looking for him in the crowded, dim lights of the bar.

“No,” You say, unable to stop a giggle from pushing past your lips.

“Lucky for me then, huh?” Jungkook grins, his smile a little dark and a little seductive. It sends a thrill up your spine.

“It is,” You nod, “Really lucky for you. And for me-”

You internally cringe at yourself. Did you learn to flirt only yesterday? Jungkook quirks an eyebrow at you in amusement before letting his hand rest on your lower back.

“C’mon, pretty, I’ll get you a drink,” Jungkook says, “Maybe then you’ll pick up a trick or two on the subject of flirting.”

You gasp and swat his chest, “Don’t be so rude.”

Jungkook stands in between your legs at the bar, one hand on your thigh and one hand gripping his drink. You’re laughing at something he said in your ear, something funny that happened at the tattoo parlor earlier in the day-

“Mina and Mei pretended to be the other to see how long it would take for Jin to notice, since he can never tell them apart-”

“You’re all terrible, and poor Jin, you always instigate with him!”

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” Jungkook nearly pouts at you.

“Oh? Why’s that? Maybe I like Jin more than I like you,” You reply, leaning closer to him.

“But you still like me, right?” Jungkook says, discreetly weaving his fingers through yours. Nobody’s paying attention to either of you, but even if someone was, you wouldn’t mind.

Or so you thought nobody was paying attention to either of you.

“Mmm… maybe a little bit,” You grin, tilting your head to the side, “Tell me how cool and pretty you think I am, and then I’ll decide.”

Jungkook laughs, throwing his head back. His bright, bunny smile makes you smile. “You already know how cool and pretty I think you are, baby.”

“You could stand to mention it a little more.”

“And what about me?” Jungkook says, leaning forward, “You never compliment me, baby…”

“That’s- that’s not true,” You whisper. He’s close enough that you can see the stars in his eyes, the ridges on his plump, pouty bottom lip, the mole below his lip.

“But I guess you don’t need to, not really,” Jungkook says airily, “Not when I can tell that you think about me. Because my girl’s dirty, huh?”

You squeeze his lithe fingers tightly and he smiles at you, sin painted in the curves of his wicked grin.

“Uh-” You stammer, your face feeling hot, “You’re really cute?”

He throws his head back once more and you grin bashfully at him. “And I like spending time with you,” You say softly, looking up at him as if you want him to hang the moon for you.

Jungkook curses under his breath. Because he would, he really would.

“How lucky for me,” Jungkook says, patting your head fondly.

“Shut up,” You roll your eyes.

Before the night ends (and you endure the teasing of Mina and Mei), you manage to convince Jungkook into taking pictures with you. Mina is all too happy to take them. You don’t know how many candids she takes of you both- you get lost in his voice and the glint in his eyes.

And then he abruptly kisses your cheek, and your breath hitches with the feel of his lips against your skin leaving your heart sputtering helplessly in your chest.

Mei and Mina are both cooing in the background at their favorite couple who isn’t quite a couple just yet. Jungkook glares at both of them, only causing them both to laugh.

And then the moment is ruined by none other than Sora herself. Jungkook sighs, already knowing that you’re going to be pulled away from him. He doesn’t know why she’s even here when nobody here likes or knows her except for you. But you’re too nice to leave her out of things (mainly because you don’t want her to get upset at you for it). So Jungkook says nothing, only narrowing his eyes at her when she comes close.

She eyes his arm around your waist and how close you’re standing to him suspiciously.

“I don’t feel so good,” Sora groans, clutching her stomach. How dramatic, Jungkook scoffs. As if she’s never handled alcohol before. Jungkook looks for the blurriness that comes with alcohol in her eyes and is unsurprised to find nothing.

But perhaps his dislike for her is outweighing reality.

“Door’s right there,” Jungkook says bluntly, “And the bathroom's over there. Knock yourself out.”

He tightens his hand over your waist, ignoring your gentle swat of your hand against his chest.

“Can we go home?” Sora pouts at you, but not before sending Jungkook a glare. Jungkook already knows you’re nodding- it seems that Sora always gets what she wants.

He knows she’s faking it, and you’re too nice to see through her bullshit.

Well, Jungkook gets what he wants, too.

“I can take you both home?” Jungkook says, though the thought of being within five feet of her sends him recoiling.

“No! We can get home ourselves,” Sora nearly hisses.

“What about when she drops you off at your apartment? You gonna let her walk home alone?” Jungkook scoffs.

“She doesn’t live that far, and she can take care of herself. Or she can sleepover,” Sora answers heatedly, as if you’re not right there.

“She is right here. And I’m not sleeping over, I have an early morning tomorrow,” You say easily, feeling annoyance beginning to stir in your belly. It’s a lie, but Sora doesn’t need to know that. “Go wait at the door, Sora. I’ll be there in a minute.”

And for once, Sora listens to you.

“Jungkook,” You murmur with heated cheeks, “Maybe I can see you later tonight?”

Jungkook laughs in surprise. His girl isn’t just flirty and touchy, you’re a liar. And you’re a liar for him.

“Sure baby, whatever you want. Just please text me when you get home. Or call me and I’ll come pick you up,” Jungkook says, returning your tipsy smile. He wants to glare in Sora’s direction but refrains from doing so.

He can hear both Mira and Mei both giggling into their hands a few feet away, but you don’t seem to hear it. You don’t seem to hear anything but him.

“Okay,” You beam at him, “I’ll call you.”

By the time you get Sora in the safe hands of her roommates and tucked into bed with a glass of water, it’s nearly 1:30 AM.

“Promise me somethin’,” She says, her eyes half awake. But you can tell she’s alert and aware.

“Hmm?” You say distractedly, about to text Jungkook telling him you’re going home soon.

“You need to stay away from Jeon,” She mumbles, watching you like a hawk, “He’s not a good guy-”

“I think you’re tired, Sora,” You say, not meeting her gaze, “I’m pretty tired, too. So ‘m gonna go home. Sleep well.”

“I mean it, he’ll break your heart, you know. Don’t you trust me?”

“Sleep well,” You whisper easily, levelling her with an intense gaze. She feels herself being scrutinized as if she’s under a microscope, but the heat dissipates quickly as you turn on your heel.

Lying to her comes so easily, even with your heart pounding painfully in your ears. But you know that’s not Jungkook’s influence on you, as she might claim. Jungkook has never been a liar- apparently that’s reserved only for you.

Jungkook is only a few blocks away from Sora’s apartment building so you remain on the phone with him, giggling quietly, as you meet him halfway. He covers more ground quicker than you so he catches up to you quickly.

“Hi,” You laugh wildly, not sure what you’re even laughing at. You’re giddy just from the sight of him and you shyly take his hand in yours. He looks at you in surprise but says nothing, only rubbing your thumb with his own.

“Hey, baby,” He says smoothly. You only beam at him in response to how he is apparently unaffected by you. It’s so easy for you to push Sora’s words from your mind, when Jungkook is standing right by your side looking at you like that.

“I live kind of far from here,” You confess, “It’s like a fifteen or twenty minute drive.”

Jungkook shakes his head at you, pulling his phone out for an Uber. “I hate that you Uber home alone so often from here,” Jungkook says, “Don’t do that anymore. You’ve heard the stories right?”

“Yeah, I have,” You shrug, “I don’t really know who else I can call all the way from here-”

“Me,” Jungkook says sharply, “Yoongi. Hobi. Jin. Mei. Mina. Any of us, baby. Fuckin’ Sora should drive you home.”

“She’s drunk, she can’t drive!”

“Not this time, just in general,” Jungkook mutters, “Some best friend, letting you ride alone in a damn Uber for twenty minutes without even checking up on you-”

“I don’t wanna talk about her anymore,” You mumble abruptly, “I want to go home, Jungkook. Will you take me home?”

And who is he to deny you?

In hindsight, maybe you should have slowed down. Maybe he should have slowed down. But the minute you enter the threshold of your home, your hands are warm and welcoming on his chest. You want him, you need him, you need him to hold you the way you know he wants to.

Your lips are sweet against his, trembling and burning all at once.

It’s been about an hour since you both ended up falling into your bed together, and most of that hour has been filled with you both locking lips. It had been you who had pressed your hands to his firm chest with determined eyes and a deep furrow in your brow before pressing your lips to his.

As quickly as it happened, it feels right. You’re sitting on his lap as if you belong, hips slowly rocking into his as your hands pull his hair out of the ponytail that it’s in. You sigh happily when you card through his hair, fingertips gentle over his scalp.

Jungkook loves the soft, pretty noises he pulls from you with each slip of his tongue into your mouth. You’re hungry, impatient, nothing of what his initial first impression of you was. You always want more, more, more and he wants to give, give, give.

He should’ve been more surprised than he really was when you had tugged his hand into your bedroom, pushed him to your bed and climbed into his lap. Your eyes are hooded, as you duck your head to meet his lips.

He tastes like honey and mint and something sweet. He smells like fresh laundry. You could lose yourself in him, you think, as you bite his lower lip generously.

“Baby,” Jungkook groans into your mouth, missing the warmth of your lips immediately, “Wait.”

But he moans again when you nip his bottom lip gently, coaxing your way into his mouth. It takes him a few seconds to pull away, your honeyed lips too tempting for him. You complain vocally, deciding to press your lips to his neck instead.

“Baby,” Jungkook says again, a little firmly with a tight grip on your hips.

“Honey,” You say in the same tone, your lips pulled into a pretty pout.

“Slow down,” Jungkook murmurs, gently placing you on the bed, your back against your freshly washed sheets. You hum and wrap an arm around his shoulders, eyelashes fluttering as you just watch him. Jungkook looks so good above you, lips perfectly pink and pillowy… You’re tempted to lick the column of his neck, all along the swirls of ink, but you don’t.

“It’s late,” You muse, twirling his hair within your fingers. He won’t admit that he feels like putty in your arms, hovering above you.

“Great observation,” Jungkook says dryly, “Anything else you wanna share with the class?”

“Will you stay over,” You murmur, looking up at him as he lays in between your legs and dots your cheeks in soft kisses.

“You want that, baby? Pretty baby wants me to stay over?” Jungkook nearly coos at you, and you swat his hand away at his teasing.

“Shut up,” You mumble, “Only because it’s like, 3 in the morning and it would be shitty for you to go all the way across the city alone.”

“Yeah, right, only because it's three AM. Not because you want to cuddle,” Jungkook snorts.

“You’re only good for cuddling, anyway,” You shoot back, “I have some of my dad’s sweats and shirts if you want to change. Get off me, you big oaf.”

“My girl’s mean, huh?

“Oh, who said anything about your girl,” You mutter, embracing the heat in your face.

Jungkook peels his leather jacket off, but he catches your curious eyes before you turn away and all but run into the bathroom to change and take your makeup off. He’s waiting in your bed as if he lives there, waiting for you to join him.

“Why do you look so nervous in your own bedroom,” Jungkook asks bluntly, chuckling at your soft noise of offense.

“It’s not everyday I have you in my bed,” You mumble, peeling the covers back to slide into bed next to him.

“You want it to be everyday?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, pretty boy,” You reply, pinching his waist. He yelps and grips your wrist loosely.

“You okay with this or what? I can sleep on the couch if you’re not,” Jungkook says, rubbing your wrist gently.

You hum, “I’m good. You good?”

“Got the prettiest girl right here. Of course I’m good,” Jungkook says, winking at you. You hide your face from him and swat his chest.

“Good night,” You mumble, “Go to sleep, stupid.”

“Who the fuck,” Jungkook grumbles into your hair, “The fuck is calling you this early, what the fuck-”

You groan, pushing your face into his chest as if that’ll push the jarring sound of your phone blaring out of your mind. Rubbing your eyes with an irritated sigh, you reach over to blindly feel for your phone on the nightstand but Jungkook reaches it first.

“Of course,” Jungkook rolls his eyes, “She never misses a fucking beat does she? Even at 6:20 in the fucking morning...”

You catch a glimpse at the phone and see that it’s Sora calling you. You take the phone from his hands, letting him wrap himself around you with a pout. You run your hand over his back silently as you answer the phone.

“Hello?” You grumble raspily, voice filled with remnants of the morning.

“Hey, just checking that you were awake. You said you had an early morning today, right?” Sora's chipper voice booms into the receiver. You cringe. Has she always sounded like that?

“Yeah…” You reply, but you’re a little distracted by the way that Jungkook’s lips attach to the corner of your mouth. “Mmm…”

“You there? You falling asleep on me, or what?” Sora asks, “Always so distracted, you should seriously pay more attention-”

Jungkook hears her and glares at the phone. His eyes harden and he moves quickly, without warning you. He takes the phone from your hands swiftly as if it’s personally offended him.

“Leave us alone, Sora,” Jungkook says, steel and frustration clear in his voice, “It’s too early for this shit, go do something productive and leave us alone. ”

You watch him with gobsmacked eyes, knowing this won’t end well but unable to find it in yourself to care as much as you should.

At least not yet.

Sora’s flabbergasted screech pierces the previously quiet morning air through your phone and you wince. You knew she wouldn’t be happy, but you’ll deal with her later. When a sleepy, pouty Jungkook wasn’t in front of you already chasing your lips with his.

“Kook,” You sigh, turning your cheek to face him. He plants his lips on yours easily, pulling the words right off of your tongue and filling your mind with air.

“You embarrassed of me or something,” Jungkook teases.

“What? No,” You say sharply, eyes wide, “Why would you think that?”

“You lied to her last night and you lied to her just now. You don’t have an early morning,” Jungkook says, hands running over your cheek, “You only have me in your bed.”

“She keeps telling me I should stay away from you,” You confess, “I don’t know why she doesn’t like you, but I’ll talk to her about it later. I don’t want my best friend to not like you-”

“Is she? Your best friend?” Jungkook asks, cutting you off. Your eyes are round with confusion, head tilted to the side.

“Why wouldn’t she be?” You ask softly, “We’ve been close since college-”

“I know all the facts, baby,” Jungkook says, trying his best to not insult Sora to you the way he wants to, “I know she’s been your friend since college, you’ve seen each other at your worst, all of the usual bullshit-”

“Hey!”

“... Why do you think she doesn’t want you to have anything to do with me? If she was really your best friend, she wouldn’t be this fucking concerned or involved-”

“If I knew, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” You shrug, “She’s just… protective of me.”

“She cares too fucking much in my opinion,” Jungkook says, “Fucking control freak. Would someone protective of you send you on a blind date with an asshole who stood you up and didn’t even reach out to you after?”

Jungkook has a lot more he wants to say about Sora and how she treats you, but he keeps it to himself for now.

You don’t know what to say, so you say nothing. Only looking at him with those disarming eyes. He hasn’t said much about it, but your gears are already turning. You’ve been growing more and more tired of Sora’s antics- mainly the way she never seems to take into account your feelings unless it benefits her. It was tolerable in college, but the more you fell for Jungkook, the more tiresome it was becoming.

“I don’t wanna talk about her anymore,” You say finally, a repeat of what you said last night.

Jungkook looks at you, something undecipherable in his eyes, before nodding and quietly meeting your warm, sleepy lips with his own.

It’s been a total of thirty-six hours since you kissed Jungkook and he had spent the night with you. You haven’t had any type of conversation with him about what your kiss with him meant, what him staying the night over meant. It doesn't’ stop you from feeling giddy at the thought of him, from replaying the last kiss he had given you. From leaving you wanting more.

You think nothing of it as you cheerily buy a dozen donuts to bring with you to the tattoo parlor to surprise Jungkook and your friends. Maybe you can sneak a kiss in.

But the minute you walk into the parlor, you know something is a little off. Jungkook’s shoulders are tense, a pensive look settled in his eyes. His jaw is clenched, tongue poking his cheek.

“Hi,” You murmur, offering him the box of donuts, “I come bearing treats.”

Jungkook gives you a thin smile. He chews on his chapped bottom lip, deep in thought. You didn’t know what to expect after seeing him for the first time after he spent the night with you, but this isn’t what you expected.

He’s standing across from you with crossed arms over his broad chest. The air between you both feels cold and still, icy as you exhale. He’s upset about something, and after before you can ask him what’s wrong (before you can stop your own spiral downwards), he beats you to the punch-

“I don’t understand you,” Jungkook says, his voice perfectly calm and even. But it’s eerie.

Your heart drops to your stomach instantly and you swallow the dry lump in your throat.

“What?” You hate how soft, how weak your voice sounds. But you can’t help it, not when disappointment coats his eyes and when he speaks to you like he’s disgusted by you. You don’t understand him either. The way he switches up on you with no warning.

Jungkook takes a deep breath to tell you what’s been on his mind. Instead of the practiced speech that sounded much calmer in his mind, what comes out is-

“You let Sora walk all over you,” Jungkook hisses, “You let her dictate almost every fucking decision! She has this inexplicable hold over you, and you don’t even know it!”

Jungkook hates confrontation, he really does. But he’s at his wit’s end with you and with Sora. Mostly with you, for not seeing a terrible friend in front of your eyes even when everyone tries telling you. How can you be this blinded by it? By her?

“She manipulates you at every turn, and you just let her! And you know what, I get it- it’s hard to recognize it when you’re in it. But we’ve all told you. She’s not a good friend to you, at all!”

Your face falls, heart sinking into a black hole that begins to swirl in your belly. You can’t stand it, the fire in his eyes despite the ice in his voice. You don’t like this. You don’t like this.

“I don’t know why you’re so hellbent on listening to her,” Jungkook seethes, getting angrier the more he thinks about Sora, “She treats you like shit- you have to know you deserve better than that, right? She sabotages you every chance she gets. She doesn’t like any of us, you know that? And forget that- why don’t you fucking ask yourself why she has the opposite opinion to everything when it comes to something you like? Your fucking car, your apartment, your job, your choice in decor. Even me.”

His words make you ache terribly and you desperately need something to hold on to to ground yourself. You shove your fists in the pockets of your jacket and surely, you’re clenching your fists tight enough that your nails are piercing through the skin of your palms.

“You never question her intentions. You’ve never even dreamed of questioning her,” Jungkook continues with a cruel sneer, lips twisting into something unfamiliar that cuts across you, “You should ask yourself why. You should ask yourself by you’re always defending her, walking on eggshells around her, afraid to be in disagreement with her, when she doesn’t give a fuck about you.”

But he doesn’t stop there, “You’re so fucking naive a-and fucking foolish. You can’t see how she always has to have you in the palm of her hand, how she makes sure she’s ahead of you in life, by whatever twisted definition of that she has. You deserve better than her. And I know I deserve better than to be hidden because you’re too scared to face your supposed best friend.”

You don’t have any words. Your brain seems to short circuit at his harsh truths, unable to formulate a single sentence. Instead your hands tremble and your eyes become wet.

You say nothing. As always, you say nothing.

“You’re not gonna say anything? Not even now?” Jungkook asks, tongue pressing against his cheek.

Another five seconds goes by before you open your mouth, “I d-don’t know what to say,” Your voice is quiet, unlike what Jungkook is used to, “It seems you’ve already made up your mind about me. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Jungkook could scream in frustration. You still won’t say what’s on your mind, even when he insults you straight to your face. He can’t tell what you’re thinking (mainly because you hardly ever say anything about it), despite being able to read you easily.

“I think I should go,” You say in the same soft, defeated voice, “I b-brought donuts, but umm… they’re over there. Goodbye, Jungkook.”

With that, you turn your back on him and on the tattoo parlor to head outside. He doesn’t see the trembling of your hands or of your shoulders. He doesn’t know that you somehow hold your tears back the whole way home, biting down harshly on your bottom lip enough to draw blood.

Jungkook doesn’t know that you barely make it into your apartment with his words ringing cruelly in your head. He doesn’t know that you collapse in your bed in a mess of sobs and the sound of your heart aching.

You’re alone.

It takes all of thirty seconds after your departure for Jungkook to realize the weight of his words and for your defeated, hunched over shoulders to replay in his mind like a movie. It takes another forty seconds for Mina and Mei to emerge from their respective offices (where he’s certain they heard the entire conversation) and scream at him for his callousness-

“I have never known you to speak to anyone like that, let alone the girl that you’ve liked for who knows how long! What the fuck is wrong with you?” Mina says and smacks the back of his head.

“You’re an idiot,” Mei continues with narrowed eyes, “You better apologize to her and kiss her fucking feet-”

“Who else was going to tell her about Sora? She hasn’t listened to-”

“There is a way to communicate these things!” Mei says angrily, “You yelling at her like that wasn’t the move and you know it. You’re so fucking stupid!”

“Alright, I get it,” Jungkook says, equally as angry. He pulls away from both of them, not wanting to hear it from them anymore.

“That girl Sora is a fucking bitch but you’re no better for how you just behaved,” Mina hisses, “Get your shit together, Jeon.”

He knows that he was harsh, maybe too harsh with you. Looking back on the memory of your glossy eyes and sad, slumped shoulders… You hadn’t even fought him. You’d just accepted his barrage of words as fact, without even thinking to provide an explanation or a defense of yourself.

Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut in shame. Once the anger dissolves into hurt, he reaches a conclusion. He should’ve just talked to you rather than lash out at you like that.

You’re no delicate flower, but damn, he’d do anything to take away the broken look in your eyes.

You take exactly two days off from work to sort through your feelings and thoroughly comb through your previous memories with Sora, and subsequently, with all of your friends. You spend most of this time in your bed, under the covers and scrolling through old photos from college and post-grad life.

It’s funny- you don’t really know where your sense of self got away from you.

You’ve always approached people- relationships, friendships- logically and rationally. Or at least you thought you had. It seems like a lot of your reactions to things that may have upset you or bothered you (or lack thereof) was for the convenience of others- namely Sora.

You bury your head in your hands when she passes through your memory. How could you have let it escalate this far? Can you be so blind to someone treating you so horribly for this long? Can you excuse her behavior for the simple fact that she’s been your supposed friend for years?

You try to think back on a time when you felt like you could unabashedly be yourself around Sora without any consequence for simply existing.

You come up blank.

Logic comes easy to you. It’s easy for you to make the decision to finally speak to Sora and say what needs to be said. Especially when your other friends were hurt by her actions, and by extension, yours.

After about another thirty-six hours, you decide. It doesn’t surprise you, how easy it is to make the decision. You decide that this “friendship” with Sora isn’t worth it. Not when she’s made you feel like this for years and if she treats your friends this way, too.

You’ll give her a chance to explain, but most of your mind is set already. Considering how well you know her, you know how this conversation is going to go. You dread it, but it must be done. Even if it’s long overdue.

“I need you to be honest with me,” You say plainly, keeping your face neutral even as your heart hammers away in your chest. At least you’re in the safety and comfort of your own home, your pastel green throw pillow on your lap acting as an anchor.

Sora sits across from you, an eyebrow raised. Her mouth is twisted into something defensive, on the ready to eat you alive. How could you not notice it before?

“When am I ever not honest with you?” Sora scoffs.

“Then it should be easy for you to answer a few questions for me, and we can be on our merry ways,” You say breezily, your eyes hardened. She swallows. Good.

“The fuck you being so formal for?” Sora laughs, but her smile drops when she sees that you’re not joking.

“Why are you so mean to Jungkook and his friends? My friends?” You ask without missing a beat. You cross your arms over your chest and look at her expectantly. Your ears feel warm, but you press on.

Even if Jungkook is perhaps irreparably upset with you, you think this is his influence. Growing a spine and sticking up for yourself, for the people around you.

“Seriously? That’s what’s got your panties twisted?” Sora says, waving a dismissive hand at you, “Don’t worry about them, they don’t know you like I do- I mean who else was holding your hair back when you were throwing your guts up in college?”

“I don’t think the quality of a friendship should be assessed by how many drunken nights we had.”

“Who else was there for you when nobody else was?” Sora hisses, “I took you home when your parents left you for the holidays, I was the one who was there with you when your shitty ex’s ghosted you, god, your taste is the worst-I was the only one who ever saw you!”

You squeeze your pillow far too tightly.

“Stop holding that shit over my head,” You snap, “Those are just things that friends do. I never begged you for your support and I shouldn’t have to feel like I owe you something other than friendship just for being your only fucking friend who put up with your shit for this long.”

Before she can open her mouth to speak, you cut across her, “Stop talking about the past. College was years ago at this point. We graduated fucking almost six years ago. And even in college… you haven’t changed a bit,” You let out a mirthless laugh, “What do you have to say for our friendship right now? If you gave a shit about me, you wouldn’t have set me up with a loser who stood me up. You afraid of something, Sora? You afraid I’ve been around people who are friends with me because they actually like me, not because they get off on a weird power trip?

“Ever since the beginning, all you’ve done is push me away from myself,” You say with trembling lips, “E-everything, you’ve just… you just take everything I like and I want and completely dismiss it. It’s n-not right. A-and it took this long, for Jungkook to call it out for me to realize. This- this isn’t friendship-”

To your misery, her lips morph into a cruel sneer. “Jungkook? You went behind my back-”

“Behind your back? You don’t even have a good reason-”

“I told you, I’m only-”

“No! You’re gonna let me finish, for once,” You raise your voice, levelling her with a glare containing years worth of anger, “It’s clear, with or without Jungkook, that you’ve only kept me around to make yourself feel better. How twisted is that! You kept me down, made me doubt myself and everything just so you could feel better.”

You take a deep, deafening breath.

“I don’t want anything to do with you anymore. Even now, you can’t reassure me. Even now, you can’t call on our friendship as something fond to remember. You weaponized me for your own insecurities. Get out.”

“Get out? You’re kicking me out?” Sora’s sneer drops immediately. Maybe you’re being cruel, but you can’t take it anymore. Something passes across her face that makes you draw an ounce of sympathy for her but it evaporates immediately.

“Yup,” You say, popping the ‘p’, “We’re not friends, and I don’t think we ever were. So thanks, for bringing me back to my senses.”

And that’s that- she leaves with her tail between her legs, not pleading for your affection or your friendship. You’re grateful for that, because you feel like you might collapse in about two minutes.

***

It has been exactly nine days since you ended your friendship with Sora and exactly fourteen days since you stepped foot in the tattoo parlor. You’ve only just reached out to Mei and Mina, in between sporadic texts to Hobi and Yoongi.

It’s been exactly two weeks since you spoke to Jungkook. You miss him, you miss his crooked smirk, his bunny smile. Most of all, you miss the comfort and safety his presence brings. But you’re too nervous to reach out to him again, his harsh words and fiery eyes blinking back at you in your own mind. You’re nervous to even show your face at the tattoo parlor.

Jungkook has been receiving an earful from all of his friends since the last day he spoke to you. Hobi’s wrath, along with Mei and Mina’s wrath, is something he never wants to relive twice. Yoongi and Jin also lectured him, and he only looked at them with wide, doe eyes in understanding. Whatever anger he was holding on to has simmered down to hurt, and now he just misses you. And he very much regrets the way he spoke to you.

He winces when he recalls his cruel words, the sharp edge of his tongue that slipped out so easily. So quickly, to strike you right where it hurts. Jungkook can’t get your stricken expression out of his mind. Knowing he put that look on your face, it makes him ache. And he’s the coward, for still not reaching out to you to apologize.

He’s too nervous to face you, but he has to.

***

jeon jungkook : hi. can we talk sometime soon?

It takes you fifteen minutes to respond. What he doesn’t know is that you had panicked for ten of those fifteen minutes, nearly dropping your phone when you had seen his name pop up on your screen.

you 🧡 : hi. sure. Where?

***

You give yourself a pep talk the entire drive to the park. You’re glad he suggested a park, and a park close to your home- you’re grateful for the open area. You’re incredibly nervous to see him for the first time in a while, running through different scenarios in your head before scolding yourself.

It’s Jungkook. Even if he hurt you, it’s still Jungkook. You trust him. You want to trust him.

You spot Jungkook leaning on his motorcycle, looking like a vision in all black. As almost always a strand of black hair escapes his ponytail as he lights his cigarette. If you didn’t know him so well, you wouldn’t notice his nerves in the way he grips his lighter tightly.

“Jungkook?” You say softly, “Hi.”

You wring your hands together, gripping the straps of your backpack tightly. You’re just as nervous as he is, he realizes. But still, you stand with your back straightened, eyes wary. You glow, and despite the fact that it’s only been two weeks, he senses something different about you.

“Hi,” Jungkook murmurs, the pet name on the tip of his tongue but he refrains, “Come here. Can I hug you?”

“Y-yeah,” You nod with a small smile and he envelopes you in his arms, holding you tightly. Inhaling every bit of you that he can. He wants to kiss you again, kiss you breathless, kiss you so that you forget his cruelty.

But he can’t erase it. So he doesn’t.

“I brought blankets for us,” Jungkook murmurs, pointing to the basket, “Let’s go sit?”

You nod and follow his lead.

***

“It was messed up,” You say forlornly, “We kissed, we kissed a lot, you slept in my bed and then you yelled at me. Insulted me in your tattoo parlor. You hurt me. You hurt me a lot.” There’s only a little malice in your voice, but he’ll take it.

You’re both sitting across from each other, knees touching with open and honest eyes. You feel vulnerable and exposed around him, especially considering how your last conversation with him went.

“You should’ve just talked to me,” You mumble.

“I know,” Jungkook says instantly, takes your much smaller hands in his and squeezes, “I fucked up. I’m so sorry I spoke to you like that. You didn’t deserve that from me. You don’t deserve that from anyone, least of all from me. I’m sorry I let everything fester and took it out on you. I’m so fucking sorry. I made you cry, didn’t I?”

You look away from him for a millisecond before nodding, “You’d cry too, if the man you liked, the man you just spent the night with for the first time, spoke to you like that. In his own place of work. I only brought you donuts and you just- what the fuck? You just went off on me, I had no idea you were even feeling that intensely about Sora. About me-

“I’m not naive and I’m not stupid. Don’t take me for a fool,” You say pointedly, not letting go of his hands. Jungkook cringes before opening his mouth.

“You’re not naive or stupid, I’m sorry-”

“But… I understand, I think. You know when you kind of… know something but it takes another person for you to realize? I think I always knew how Sora was and didn’t want to face it. Or face her. For so long, it felt like she was all I had for some reason. Like even if there were others, it felt like her approval mattered the most. And I realized it was because she just always had this way of making me feel less than her. But mostly, I owe that realization to you. Even if you went about it the wrong way.”

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook says, “I’m so fucking sorry, I should’ve just talked to you about how I was feeling, rather than take it out on you. You deserve better than that.”

“I’m sorry, too,” You say, surprising him, “For allowing her to get in the way of us, for allowing her to run her mouth. For not having a spine-”

“Stop,” Jungkook says firmly, “When someone is controlling and manipulative like that, it’s hard to see past it-”

“But is it an excuse?” You wonder with a slight tilt of your head, “I let it hurt you, hurt Yoongi, Hobi, Mina, Mei…”

“Maybe not an excuse. But it makes it understandable,” Jungkook says, “All we can do is move forward right?”

“Yeah, I suppose,” You nod, “I know it doesn’t really change much now, but… I told Sora I don’t want anything to do with her anymore. In fact, I kicked her out of my apartment. It was very dramatic and satisfying. Like something out of a movie.”

Jungkook laughs despite himself, pulling a small smile from you as well. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah-”

“You just ended a friendship with someone who’s been around for a long time. That’s not easy.”

“It was easier than I thought it would be. Turns out telling someone to get out of your apartment after letting out about eight years of pent up frustration really is the most vindicating thing a girl can do,” You murmur with a soft laugh, “I think I’m just upset with myself that it took this long. That it took hurting you, the last person I’d ever want to hurt, to realize.”

Jungkook rubs your thumb gently, sending gentle ripples over your skin.

“I’m sorry I disrespected you like that,” Jungkook says, sincerity forming dotted diamonds in his eyes, “God, I’m so sorry, baby.”

“Yeah,” You sigh, “I’m sorry I disrespected you, too. By ignoring all of the red flags, I let her get away with so much. I let her get away with her saying so much shit about you.”

There’s a comfortable pause between you both.

“I think we need to take time for ourselves,” Jungkook murmurs, eyes uncertain but earnest, “Before we start anything-”

“And who said I wanted to start anything with you,” You tease, giggling when Jungkook rolls his eyes at you, “I agree… Maybe no more pet names, huh?”

“Are you breaking up with me?” He asks in amusement.

“To break up, we’d have to be together to begin with,” You say softly. Despite his own words, his own insistence that he knows you both have some feelings to work through before starting anything romantic without lingering feelings of resentment… Jungkook just wants to pull you into his lap and kiss you, steal your breath, feel your hips in his hands. You look so pretty under the sunlight, the rays brushing over your hair warmly and casting a faint halo over your head.

He drinks you in with his eyes, not allowing a single inch of you to pass him. It’s only been two weeks, but he looks at you as if it’s been so much longer since he’s seen you.

You’ve never been good at hiding your emotions around him, and this time is no different. You look like you want to eat him alive, your eyes hooded and palms hot against his. Something in you wants him, wants him to hold you close, feel his hands over any and every inch of you that he can reach.

You want him to paint you with his hands, maybe share some of that sparkle that he seems to be made of.

Your eyes linger, a soft sigh escaping your lips without realizing it. Jungkook resists a smirk, keeping his observations to himself. He catches your gaze burning through his balmy skin, on his arms, his chest, his neck…

It’s too bad. It really is.

Memories of your night together flash behind your eyelids, the way you seemed to fit just perfectly on top of his strong thighs, the way his big hands felt ghosting over you.

You force your eyes away and touch your lips subconsciously, blinking away the ghost of his kiss. Pulling your hands away from him, you offer him a contrite smile.

“I’ll see you around, Jungkook,” You murmur, standing up from the blanket. His first instinct is to help you up, but he remembers, he’s supposed to keep his hands to himself.

“Yeah. See you around.”

Jungkook’s dimples are the last thing you see when you turn your back and head to your car. You try your best not to look back at him, despite every neuron in your brain screaming at you to.

----

TAGS: @kookdbean @codeinebelle

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[subwaysurf45]

Winter Makes Ice (Ep.5)

Summary:  you’re captured after a brawl at the Avengers building, Bucky and others must save you before Hydra makes a new Winter Soldier out of you, Bucky has given up that title.

Words: 4344

Episode: five

Warning: violence, nudity, needles, descriptions of injury

Masterlist! Winter Makes Ice Episode: Four

Time: unknown

Date: unknown

You knew they had full control over you. There was nothing you could do even though you were conscious all the time, your body did what they wanted but your brain screamed against it. There were times where they’d ask you to do the impossible, they’d make you climb the tallest tree in the forest that surrounded the building and then make you jump down without anything to catch you, you’d land and your ankle would break; the worst was when they told you to break it back in place. 

It was like you were sat in a large chair as you watched your life unfold in the cell, your wrists were strapped to this imaginary chair so you couldn’t reach out to block the punch, ankles were clasped so you couldn’t run away. You never became lucid, it was always you watching through the shell of your body. Crying yourself to sleep wasn’t an option, you weren’t allowed to cry, or laugh, or scream, or smile; you were dead on the outside. The feeling of control was so close but yet so far away. 

There was a moment, just a moment. More I.C.E. had just been injected as you hung from the cuff restraints, you swung lightly as you dangled there. The cell door closed and the silence you were left with was getting louder by the second, your brain starting to pound like it always did and right at the back of your head near the bottom began to pulse, like you were being stabbed. The pain, hunger, exhaustion built up until that one moment, your eyes were slowly closing but as they closed you could see something right in front of you, something was moving. You couldn’t reach out to touch it because you were chained but as you crossed your eyes all you saw was a little black thing slightly swinging with you. 

It was the tip of your nose. 

Your fingers had also begun to blacken, it was about to hit your first knuckle. 

That was when you let the control fully go to the I.C.E. flowing in your veins, the power to keep yourself above water was only getting more and more tiring. No one had tried to save you so they probably were never going to come. Part of you thought Bucky would be there in less than a day, he’d break walls and towers for you, but it might have just been words to make you think he loved you, just sounds put together as a fake. 

Time: 6:10am

Date: October 3rd 2024

“Darling, It’s me, It’s Bucky, you’re safe now.” Bucky spoke softly, he flickered between your eyes and nose. You didn’t say anything, just looked right through him. “I will not fight you, but we need to get out of here, we have to go.” He urged, right when he finished talking you stepped forward, he was shocked to see you move, it was rigid and robotic. “Baby, explain what’s going on, please baby?” Bucky stepped forward and reached out, his hand lightly touched your shoulder but he studied your face as he did so. Your nose would have scrunched up but with the lack of that it was just your eyebrows that pulled together. Bucky looked around the room to try and find any sign of how to get you out of your trance; the papers he flicked through were now getting thoroughly read through. All you did was stare at him, waiting for a command. 

“Bucky, it’s all clear down here, some got away though,” Steve breathed heavily as he spoke through the coms. “There's this guy who looked to be the head and he got away, didn’t get a good look at him.” 

Bucky turned to you, “who’s the leader here?”

“No one gave their name.” You answer quickly. 

“What did he look like?” Bucky left the papers and walked to you, he grabbed a lab coat on the way to cover your scared and naked body. 

“Slick black hair. Black eyes. Heart shaped face. No facial hair. Slit through his left eyebrow. Hydra ring on his finger.” Your eyes closed as you computed the man who poured the ice water on you multiple times. “Height: six foot. Weight: around one eighty. Scars, markings, tattoos: none.” Bucky watched you in shock, “any other specifics, James?” 

“N-no, well done.” He nodded and threw the coat around you, “we’re going to leave now, okay?” Bucky took your hand and led you toward the door. 

Your feet tread silently while Bucky’s combat boots echoed three times down the grey hallway, it scared you every time he’d step. With every loud sound came a hard punch, it was a way for you to brace yourself when they’d catch you talking about your past life. As you walked closer to the doors your fingers found their way to the walls, still grey like the floor but clean, the floor was covered in dead bodies and blood from the invasion. 

The doctors and agents you knew were slumped over against the wall or splayed out in the middle of the hallways, some people’s blood had congealed while others still created a larger pool around the Hydra operatives. The smell of death didn’t read on your face but it did on Bucky’s, the smell of the inside of your cell just carried out here it seemed like. You were unaware of your smell, part of you thought it was the lack of nose but the other knew it was the lack of fresh air and being surrounded by copious amounts of blood. 

“Where to, Sergeant Barnes?” the feeling of someone holding your hand was foreign, his thumb kept swiping back and forth.

“Call me Bucky,” he looked back with sorrow in his eyes. You stopped walking and lowered your head, “what are you doing?” he asked. 

“Waiting for punishment,” you spoke softly, knowing they went easier on you if you knew you messed up. There’d be times where you’d push your luck and stare them down but once you grew tired of being tough you head would bow and you waited for the strike, it was now a reaction to any type of dissatisfactory.

“No, no punishment anymore,” his eyes filled with tears and he brought you under his arms, his lips kissed the crown of your head as he opened the doors. He kept you under his arm as he opened them, metal arm gripping right on your forearm. 

The sun was barely meeting the surface and yet you had to squint to adjust, everything had a hue of red. The grass felt foreign under your bare feet as you stepped off the tiles and into nature, your toes gripped the leaves and grass as they walked. Your lungs felt like they were about to explode with the intake of fresh air, your nose could still work but it was slightly harder to breathe, the cool wind blew into your mouth and gripped the back of your throat which made you double over to the cough. Your knee popped out of the front slit on the closed lab coat, you were used to feeling naked and vulnerable; Bucky was the one to close it again. 

Steve, Wanda, and Nat all stood by the jet.

Wanda screamed your name and ran up to you, her arms pulled you into a tight hug but you curled in and waited for the strike. She pulled away and the feeling of rigidness, “y/n?” She questioned, her hand coming to cup your cheek but you stepped back and held your hand up for protection. Wanda brought her hands into her chest, she looked between Bucky and you but Bucky just shook his head with a few tear tracks present on his face; Wanda was beginning to develop her own after she looked back at you before turning away. 

You didn’t really know why everyone was crying, “Scarlet Witch, Wanda Maximof.” your head slightly bowed, you looked over her to see the others behind her shoulder, “Captain Steve Rogers and Natasha Rominoff, a pleasure.” Their faces seemed worried and Nat looked disgusted, she brought her hand to cover her mouth as she walked up the steps to the jet. 

Wanda got your attention again, “hello, we’re going to take you home, alright?” Wanda took your hand, “do you remember me?” 

“From?” was all you said as you made it into the jet. Wanda covered sob with her hand as she turned away from you to sit beside Nat, she was also crying.

Steve didn’t even look at you, he walked straight to Bucky. Steve caught him right as Bucky’s knees were buckling, Bucky caught onto Steve and they both slowly made it to the ground. It seemed like they guided each other, both holding onto one another for dear life. It was a common understanding, grief was written on both of them. 

“She’s fucking gone, Steve!” Bucky cried into Steve’s uniform, the blue turning navy with the tears. “She called me James! She doesn’t know who I am, I can't- I don know- what did they-”

“Bucky, it’s alright,” Steve calmed him as Bucky began to hyperventilate, “we’re going to get her back, I promise.” Steve gripped onto Bucky’s shoulders and they both stood, a little wobbly but both were extremely tired and light headed. “I’ll handle everything,” they walked to the jet, “just be there for her and I figure everything else out, alright?” Steve made Bucky look at him. 

“Sure…” was all Bucky could muster. 

They all made it to the jet, you were placed in a room off to the right. Bucky went right in there to see you curled on the ground when there was an examination table in the middle of the room, he kneeled beside you and ghosted a hand down your shin to try and get your attention. 

“It’s Bucky, let’s sit up on the table, okay?” Bucky eased but you didn’t move, his eyes closed as he fought with himself. He didn’t want to abuse your injected substance, but he really needed you on the exam table to check your wounds. “On the exam table.” he didn’t speak harshly or yell, it was just Bucky’s normal tone. 

You shot up instantly and sat on the edge of the table, your legs hung off it and the lab coat was forgotten, it was still around you but it seemed you were told to be naked so often it became second nature. Bucky turned toward you and stood between your legs so he could get a good look at you, he could tell you were staring deep into his eyes, he didn’t want to look in yours yet, he wanted to look you deep in the eyes and have you pull him in for a kiss, maybe it was selfish but he needed it. 

“I’m going to do something called a head-to-toe check,” he informed but he knew you knew what this was. He slipped on the disposable gloves, “I know you have cuts and scars but I need to find active bleeding first, alright?” Bucky held up his hands to show nothing was on the gloves. “Tell me if I’m making you uncomfortable.”

“Nothing is-”

“That’s an order.” Bucky added, “I’m commanding you to tell me if you don’t want me touching somewhere,” he knew he had checked you, there might be a way you could find a loophole in his command and get him further from a checkmate but he was making progress. 

His hands gently tapped all around you, he was asking questions as he did so but you didn’t answer any of them. You were now looking straight forward, when Bucky looked to your face for any sign of his girl you’d give no hints or answer. His hands worked down to your chest, he hesitated over your breasts but you gave no indication that you were uncomfortable, when he looked for bumps, bruises, or blood he didn’t find much, just scratch marks that looked old. He did the same when he hit your waist, not a lot of touching but looking, it wasn’t thorough but he knew you wouldn’t say anything and he might trigger you again. 

His gloves weren’t picking up much, most cuts were partly healed and the bruises were very noticeable. Part of a head-to-toe check is seeing how the victim reacts to the pressure, if you tap their stomach and they flinch it could be internal bleeding or a broken rib, but you weren’t giving any sign of hurt. He knew you could feel the broken bones and the bruises but you would never tell him in the mindset you’re in. he watched for little twitches in the eye or some type of pull away from him wherever he touched, Bucky wanted to reach in and find your brain so that you could tell him what hurts; he wanted to help you so bad. 

“Do you know how long you’ve been gone?” Bucky asked as he picked up your left leg, turning and examining it. He found a deep red mark on the edge of a purple bruise on your ankle, there was the exact same one on the other and on your wrists. He pushed away your hair and moved the lab coat back to find a massive bruise with cuts all around your neck, it was impeccable your vocal chords weren’t fried after being put in that cuff contraption. 

“Gone from where?” you asked robotically, you didn’t even look at him. 

Bucky was taken back by your answer, he stumbled with his hands as he switched legs. “F-from home, y/n. Shield, home?” 

“Hydra is my home, it was where I was created.” your head turned to allow your eyes to lock with Bucky’s. 

Part of him wanted to scream and shake your head so hard it might knock a memory back in place, he wanted to tell you of your story and how you both grew. Bucky wanted to tell you about the drawings you do with Steve or the boxing in the early mornings, he wanted to overflow you with emotions but he knew they’d hit a brick wall. 

Bucky finished his exam but he needed to keep you for himself for a little longer, he pretended to check your pupils and pulse three more times but all he wanted was to feel the warmth of your skin. His eyes would catch the tip of your nose swinging as he moved you slightly, he had an entire set of questions just for that. But he just kept looking at you for no reason. He’d ask if you’re cold and you’d say no, he’d ask if you were hungry and you’d say no. he’d ask if you were thirsty, you’d say no. 

So he stopped asking, “drink this water.” He pulled the little water bottle from the back of his belt loop, the little tear drop shaped bottle fit perfectly in her hands. 

You grasped the frosted bottle, it seemed familiar to you. You never got water in your cell, you’d have to suck on the floor after the doctor left; they’d always wake you up by dumping ice water on your head. Calloused fingers gripped and felt the bottle, something was happening in your brain that you couldn't quite understand, you were feeling something deep within you. 

“Drink.” Bucky said again. 

“Wait,” you whispered, all you saw was black form shutting your eyes so tight. You didn’t see Bucky’s face as he waited to see if this water bottle would trigger something from right before you were taken, this was the water bottle you had introduced to the group. 

A picture was unfolding in your head, it was a big room with people all around. There was a couch that some were sitting on while one stood in front of them, the one standing was smiling. The people on the couch were leaned in to listen, some held their chin in their hand as they too, were also smiling. The little bottle of water you were holding was also in this picture, the one standing seemed to be presenting it like a game show host, showing it off as if it was new. The picture began to move and the people standing took a seat next to another person, they cuddled close and began whispering to each other with iggles in between. A pen made its way across the couch and ended up at the two who looked like a couple, one wrote a heart next to their name while the other did it normally. 

Your eyes shot open at the sound of the pop, you were squeezing the bottle so hard it exploded. Your eyes frantically searched around and when they landed on the other set of eyes in the room you lunged for a hug. 

“Bucky!” you screamed, “thank you!” You wrapped your arms around him so tight. Bucky hesitated before clinging to you like a life source, “I thought it would’ve taken you longer,” you sighed into his touch. 

“We left you there for too long,” Bucky whispered, his face his deep in your neck.

You pulled away with tears in your eyes, you looked to him but he kept looking down, “is there something on my nose?” you asked, Bucky was looking between your eyes and nose. Your finger went to touch but pulled away at the feeling of something dangling, “what is that?” you screamed and felt it again. 

“It’s the injection side effect, I think.” Bucky added he felt around your face to try and see if you were actually real or if this was some sick joke Wanda was playing on him. 

“What injection? They just took my blood once so far,” you shrugged and felt the back on your head, “there was a scab there before, it hurts like crazy, like a pulsing thing.'' You brought your other hand back to try and find that scab you felt what seemed like hours ago. Your hair felt dirtier than the last time you remembered, it was one big clump when you moved it.

“Sit down.” Bucky said, you moved back on the seat without a second thought.

With wide eyes you looked up to Bucky, “I didn’t want to sit...Bucky what did you do?” you asked, it looked like you were glued there as you tried to get off. 

“What day is it?” Bucky asked cautiously, his hands coming back to cup your face. 

“September twenty third, I didn’t hit my head it’s not a con-”

“It's October third.” Bucky breathed out, “oh my god…” he whispered and pulled you into another hug, he gently rubbed your back as you stayed rigid in his hold. 

The plane began to drop and Bucky knew it was just landing but with everything rushing against you like a title wave it felt like the plane was crashing. Bucky held you tight as you slashed around in his grip, pleads to any higher power you could think of to keep you alive didn’t seem to work. The plane froze and you stayed gripped to Bucky, he brought you out of the medical room. The three others just looked at you, not wanting to get their hopes up. But when you ran over to them and asked what day it was they seemed to be more disappointed, they just pulled you in for a hug and tried to calm you down like Bucky did. 

All at once medical staff open the jet doors, people rushing to you and you. Bucky was trying to cut through the crowd to get to you but medical staff were getting in the way and holding him back, he could see your frantic search for him. 

“You’re gonna trigger her, s-stop, this isn’t-”

A medical staff member flew back and knocked a few others over, everyone began to calm down and slow their moments. You were right over the person you pushed trying to help them up, apologizing profusely, they kept moving back and away from you. 

“Y-you were holding a needle, I’m sorry.” you eased. 

“Sedate her!” another yelled. 

You ran down and out of the jet to try and get away from the many needles that, what seemed like, every medical member was holding. There was just noise surrounding you, vision began to tunnel right when the pounding in your ears began, at the back of your head there seemed to be a knife stabbing you. 

“Get a gurney!” the voice cut through the shouts and chasing. 

Everything stopped and you froze from your worried state to complete your mission, someone ordered you to find a gurney, you must complete it. There was one waiting outside, you walked over with your back straight and your chin up. There was no need to look behind you shoulder but you did so anyway to make sure no threats were also in need of the gurney, everyone behind you was just still and watched you. This must be a test, after that realization you did everything quickly and efficiently to avoid punishment. 

When you brought the gurney to the voice who shouted it they told you to get on as well, Bucky was by your side and offering an arm to help get on but you didn’t take it. People were shouting orders to one another and you kept trying to get up to fulfill the command but Bucky kept holding you down. Some medical staff were trying to shove him away but he stood his ground and kept a hand holding you.

“Why do I keep wanting to do all these things?” you frantically aske as you tried to stand again.

“I’ll explain later, don’t worry,” he squeezed your hand as you made it into your exam room. Hands felt all around you, the lab coat was long forgotten so you sat on the table naked. Bucky was right against the wall and kept an eye on you, though your brain was next to scrambled eggs he could still read you like a book.

“We need to take some blood, might also need to give something to sedate her.” it was, what looked like, the head of this team that spoke.

Another picture flashed before your eyes. The needles and this blue liquid that went into you. Bucky had told you something called ‘ice’ but you didn’t know what that meant. Blood would be taken from you then without you looking, they would stick whatever serum Bucky was talking about in your arm. Voices and sounds rushed into your head as these pictures moved and changed to show that you weren’t there for as long as you thought you were, in your mind a different doctor repeated the same motions over and over and over again. You were covered in water and somebody was talking over you from inside of the cell, their voice seemed as though they too were underwater so you couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, but one part stood out. They were saying how they did this all without you noticing, how you were too confident, how you were strong and yet you’d look away from the needles when they were stuck into your arm. 

All of these people who you failed to remember that were surrounding you now, all had needles and some had already taken your blood, but you were going to be cautious now, you were going to be aware because you didn’t want to forget everything again. Before anyone could stick anything else in you, your arms flew out to the side and gripped as many syringes as you could, they were smashed to the ground and the clear liquid spilled and dripped on the floor. People were beginning to hold you down but you broke free from their dead grass pushing away the velcro straps that were about to go around your ankles and wrists.

Someone managed to get a strap on your left ankle without you noticing, that sensation of being cuffed made another picture float in your mind. It was a large metal contraption with silver Cuban links and five cuffs, two around your wrists, two around your ankles, and the final one went around your neck. Once they were all attached to you, you were suspended in the air as your entire body weight was being held up by your limbs and neck, even though only one bound was attached to you now, you could still feel the weight of all of it crashing back onto you. 

With one large tug the Velcro cuff snapped, you tried to get up and off the table to run to Bucky, he was the only one left in the room that you knew and trusted. He was also trying to make his way to you simultaneously, reading the fear etched deep into your eyes. No medical staff was trying to hold him back so he ripped through all of them and got to you quickly, you couldn’t really hear what he was saying because the pounding in your head that was pinpointed right at the back of your neck was starting to pound into your ears. But you could make out his lips that were moving, you can remember faintly kissing them, the feeling was on the tip of your tongue but you couldn’t quite make out what it really felt like. He was telling you it was going to be okay, at one point he said that you could sleep now and that he’d be there when you wake up, you really didn’t want to trust him but you were so tired and your head hurt so bad.

You didn’t even see or feel the syringe plunge deep into the crook of your neck as he held your face and made your eyes look right into his.

Winter Makes Ice tag list: @small-death-and-codeine​ @commonintrest​ @buckyys-doll​  @lil-baby-nor 

let me know if you want a tag!!!

[averytiredfanfictionwriter]

Clan (Technoblade x demon!reader, Philza x demon!reader)

Word count- 2,210 Content Warnings- none that I can think of Ao3 link- right here.

My first post back in a while. I’m sorry about the absence to whoever might care- a lot of things popped up in my personal life that stressed me out, on top of my graduation fast approaching. But I’m back now, and this might not be the Karl or Ranboo fic that was promised, it is at least something. Those will both be coming within a week or two, I just need to finish up some stuff and then edit them. So follow if you want to see when I post those, or just reply on this post saying that you want to be tagged when I do post them. Enjoy! Reblogs are appreciated, as well as likes. So if you could just do both, that would mean the world to me!

Techno’s used to being alone. He lived the first hundred years of his life that way- until he met Phil. And then Phil left. And he was alone again. 

But when he met Y/n, that all changed. He never had to worry about being alone again. Immortals are rare, and meeting another one is even rarer, but the two were inseparable. She never disclosed where she was from, or what the tattoos of strange runes on her body meant, and Techno knew better than to pry into matters that didn’t concern him, but he couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking about as she stared out the window with her eyes clouded over and memories of a past time playing in her mind.

When Phil came back, it was easy for the pair to fit him back into their lives. Even though Y/n had never met him before it was as if they’d known each other for centuries before then. The three easily settled into a calm daily routine and when they returned to their own houses in the little community they’d created for just them at night, they fell asleep having forgotten what life was like before they’d met. 

The three gods never worried about what would happen when they were found. After all, they’re immortal. They’ve lived to see the rise and fall of countries, rulers, and everything else. Them of all people know that nothing is permanent. But none ever stopped to consider that what they had wasn’t permanent.

It started when Techno woke up in the morning. The arctic always lent itself to freezing mornings but this one felt colder than the others. It could be because he had expected to wake up with Y/n and Phil next to him on the couch, and was surprised that they would go back to their own houses. But it was much more than that- even if Techno couldn’t have known.

Phil and Techno looked in silence for any trace of Y/n around their community when the sun hit the middle of the sky and she still hadn’t shown her face. Any places she might have gone off to in search of quiet or a place to nap. But that didn’t appear to be the case and their search turned up empty and in vain. 

Techno retreated into himself. He found the note she’d left when he and Phil returned from their search and he didn’t say anything, instead heading down to the basement in his small house and shutting himself in to work on ‘very important stuff’ as he told Phil. Phil didn’t believe him-  Techno wasn’t exactly quiet in expressing the emotions he felt about Y/n leaving.

Phil wasn’t quite as emotional as Techno. He was more than two hundred years older than the pink-haired man. He was used to the constant ebbing and flowing of life, of the appearance and then disappearance of people. That’s not to say it didn’t hurt, but he knew that it’s the way of life. People come, and then they go. To stop it would be to disregard the nature of humans as a whole.

He was a little surprised when Techno came back up at the end of the night and, while silent, had refused to acknowledge that she’d even existed there in the first place. He ignored the building next to his where she’d slept and kept her belongings. Whenever Phil tried to bring her up, Techno would shut out the conversation and pretend he hadn’t heard him. It wasn’t healthy, and Phil couldn’t blame him because he was still young but he just wished he wouldn’t be so heartbroken to the point of refusing to acknowledge that she ever existed in the first place.

This went on for months. Almost a whole year had passed and the building that contained Y/n’s belongings went untouched. All the delicate keepsakes from past adventures, photos of strangers that neither of the men dared ask about, and the bookshelves lining almost every wall and so full of books from all over the world- it all gathered dust. Until finally she came back.

Phil almost didn’t recognize her at first. The tired weariness evident in the dark circles under her eyes and the dragging of her footsteps, but everything else was the same. The dark hair on her head now long enough to braid- much to his excitement- and the multitudes of runes covering her body, with the additions of quite a few now. One of the newest things though is the several piercings and jewelry that she’s wearing. The most prominent of which is the chain hanging around her neck, a medium-sized precious stone of unknown origin hanging off of it. 

“Y/n…” Phil said, dropping the wood he held in her arms in favor of running over and embracing her.

She hugs him back, the feeling almost foreign to her now. But now that she’s back, she doesn’t intend on forgetting it again.

“Where’s Techno? I need to talk to you both.” Y/n mumbles into Phils' shoulder, and for a minute he feels the cold flush of fear at the thought of her leaving again.

“He’s inside his house. Here, I’ll take you there.” Phil can’t help but feel like he’s showing around a visitor. The community has changed quite a bit since she’d last been there but the dread-filled feeling that he gets at the thought of her leaving again, coming back to say that she’s leaving and never returning, is more than he could take.

“Techno. Where are you?” Phil calls out as he enters the house and the chill of the room makes him shiver.

“Downstairs.” A gruff voice calls back, followed by a grunt of frustration.

“Well, can you come upstairs real quick? We have a visitor.” The word is bitter on his tongue and the look that flashes quickly across Y/n’s face makes him wish he’d chosen a better wording.

“Fine.” The ladder creaks and then Techno is peeking his head through the hole that leads down the basement.

“Y/n. What are you doing here?” It’s not entirely a question, and Y/n winces at Techno’s harsh tone. “Why are you back now? What, was living out there not as good as you thought it was? Well, you can leave. We don’t want you back here. We’re doing just fine on our own.” 

Y/n feels destroyed. She didn’t expect Techno to react positively to her return, but she didn’t expect this.

“Can I just tell you why I left?” She asks, and Techno snorts.

“Sure. Go ahead. Lay on us this wonderful reason.” Techno’s voice drips with sarcasm.

“There were some people I needed to find- had to find.” She says and Techno laughs.

“Really. That’s your reason. You had to go find some people so you left for ten months. You didn’t even think to tell us in person, instead, you just left a note. Hell, you could have taken us with you. We would have happily gone with you. I would have happily gone with you. I’d have done anything for you. But it appears that the feeling wasn’t mutual, since you barely bothered to leave a half-assed note telling us.” Techno shouts, having climbed fully into the room and stood towering over the girl.

“You don’t understand. This was not a trip you could have made. Neither of you would have been able to!” Y/n shouts back. 

Phil backs away, settling into the couch on the other side of the room. 

“What do you mean, I don’t understand. I understand perfectly. You abandoned us. You abandoned me. Well, you know what, I don’t want you back here. You need to leave. Get your things and leave. Right now.” Techno says and it feels like Y/n was just punched in the gut.

“What? Techno you’re not serious?” Phil’s astonished. Of everything he thought Techno would say to Y/n, this wasn’t one of them.

“Yeah, I am. Now get out.” Philza protests and Techno starts yelling at him as he tries to shove her out of the house.

“My clan was killed! I had to find their bodies!” She shouts out over the two men and Techno stops pushing her.

“Clan?” He asks and Phil stares at her blankly.

“You’re a demon?” He asks and Techno looks back and forth between the two.

“Part demon, yes. My clan was killed and I had to find them. I needed to know who was left. And… I’m now the leader of a clan that doesn’t exist anymore. They were all dead.” Her voice breaks at the end of her sentence, and the sorrow overwhelms her. She’d done a good job on the trip there and back of not crying, of ignoring what happened. But saying it out loud makes it real, and something inside her snaps with those words.

Suddenly the runes tattooed on her and the amount of gold jewelry she’s wearing makes sense to Phil. 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Techno pulls her into his arms protectively.

Phil stands from the couch and joins them. The combined warmth of the other two hybrids is almost too much to bear, but Philza hugs them anyways. Y/n’s sobbing continues for a little longer, but soon it turns into muffled sniffles and the shaking of her body calms a little bit.

“It’s up to me now to find a new clan. Custom is that I have to either join one or find others to form one with. I don’t think I’ll be able to stay here. Most of them require you to live with the group.” Y/n whispers as she pulls away from the hug.

“No. I won’t let you leave. Not for a second time.” Techno says stubbornly, and Y/n shakes her head.

“I don’t have a choice.”

“Yes, you do. We’ll be your new clan. Even if you can’t give us the jewelry of your brothers and sisters like tradition dictates, we can still be your clan. Technically your clan doesn’t have to be other demons.” Phil smiles at her. Techno doesn’t know why Phil would know that, but he doesn’t question his knowledge either way. Phil’s lived a long life before he and Y/n came into the picture.

“You guys would do that?” She asks and he nods his head eagerly.

“Of course. We were already really close before- nothing’s going to be changing.”

“Yeah. What do we have to do to join your clan?” Techno asks.

“Well, we basically have to get married to each other. It’s really just an unbreakable promise to stay with each other and protect each other until we die. Soooo… forever. Are you guys sure this is what you want? Because once we do this we can’t go back.” Y/n looks at them in worry.

“Yes. We both want this. You belong here with us. Life was horrible without you here. I had to deal with Phil all alone. The full force of his attention was on me. It was a never-ending nightmare.” Technos voice is dry as he delivers the joke and Y/n laughs as Phil protests.

“Hey. You forget that I was equally as stuck with you. It’s not easy when you live with a piglin who never gets cold and forgets that not everyone is as lucky as him.” Phil says and Techno mimics his words.

“Whatever you say, old man. But Y/n, I’m a hundred percent serious about joining your clan. I never want to let you go again.” Techno says into Y/n’s shoulder.

“Yeah, it was so quiet without you here mate. And cold. So, so cold.” Phil wraps his wings around the two human furnaces and holds them close.

Even though he’s more than two hundred years older than the pair and knows the reality of life- that eventually they’ll get bored of each other or tired and leave- he finds himself wanting to never let go.

“Here, hold out your hands,” Y/n tells them as she pulls out of the hug.

The two men do so without hesitation, and Y/n places a ring in each of their hands. They’re heavy, made of an unknown metal to most who walk the earth and they’re burning hot to the touch as if they were just forged and taken out of the fire.

“But… you’re not supposed to?” Phil says and the woman shakes her head.

“It doesn’t matter if my clan is made of demons or not. I’m still going to give you guys the rings signifying our bonds.” She says and Phil nods.

“Now… who wants to go and slaughter some orphans?” Techno asks, clapping his hands together.

Y/n shouts yes and drops her bag on the ground, running out the door. Techno hangs back a moment, pausing only to look at his reflection in the mirror- at the heavy ring on his tusk. It’s stopped burning and has turned into a comfortable warmth.

“Hey, you good mate?” Phil asks and Techno smiles.

“Never better.” He eyes the half-demon waiting outside in the snow, her tail swishing on the ground behind her. 

“Good. Because now there’s no getting rid of her.” Phil smiles and they join the girl waiting outside, ready for whatever adventures lie ahead.

[eternally-writing]

color me surprised | jjk.

Pairing: Jungkook x reader Genre: fluff Theme: established relationship! AU, dad!jungkook Warnings: none (rating: G) Word count: 1 k Synopsis: When Jungkook spends the day with your daughter, it is full of surprises.

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“I’m home!” you yell as you pass the threshold of your home. 

It was normal for Jungkook to take care of Gidae alone while you were out and about doing chores. Today, you were returning from hanging out with your friends, a “girl’s day” of sorts, and despite all the fun you may have drinking mimosas at brunch and window shopping for clothes you’d probably never get a chance to wear, there was nothing you liked more than being able to spend time with your little family. 

You had already been mentally preparing yourself for what you were going to face in your living room - toys thrown everywhere, the sink stacked full of dishes, traces of Jungkook and Gidae’s fun adventures around the place. Instead, your brows furrowed as you are met with a clean room and silence.

Instantly, you panicked. Where could Jungkook and Gidae be? You felt your heart start racing as you went through each room, peeking through each door to only be met with an empty (albeit clean) room. 

It wasn’t until you reached the last door that you found what you were looking for. 

You can’t stop the smile that graces your face as you see the scene in front of you. Gidae was wrapped up in Jungkook’s hold, him bouncing her slightly on his knee while she clutched a big marker in her tiny fist. It seemed like time was frozen as you admired your perfect family in front of you. All those sleepless nights, petty arguments, and long days of work over the years seemed to pay off in moments like this. You were only able to maintain your secret view of the situation for a couple minutes before your cover was blown when Jungkook caught you in the doorway. 

“Gidae look who’s here! Mommy’s here!” Said Jungkook in his oh-so-cute baby voice. You told him weeks ago that the doctor said you both could just talk to her like a normal human, but he was having way too much fun with it that he had no interest in breaking his very cute habit. 

You quickly made your way over to your favorite duo, pressing a kiss to Gidae’s forehead and then Jungkook’s lips before plopping down beside your husband.

“So… what have you two been up to all day?” You whispered to Jungkook, letting your head fall onto his shoulder.

“Well… Daddy forgot to go buy more paper last time you told me to…” Jungkook said to you sheepishly. You could barely stop the “I told you so” from slipping out of your lips, although Jungkook could tell exactly how you felt from the look on your face.

“So when Gidae wanted to draw today I had to offer her a much more interesting canvas to prevent a little meltdown.” Jungkook said with his best baby voice still intact, one hand combing itself through Gidae’s small locks.

He then turned to show you his tattooed arm, the empty spaces filled with the squiggly colouring from every color under the rainbow. There were some trademark Gidae triangles (her favorite shape, of course), that crossed some of the ink boundaries, but it was sweet nonetheless.

You cooed slightly as you ran your fingers over the drawing. Jungkook had started his sleeve long before he met you, but as the years progressed in your relationship, it had filled out more and more to take up the expanse of his limb. It was just purple marker really, nothing more than a couple squiggles and some pretty decent colouring within the lines, but for some reason it felt like so much more. Jungkook always worried about whether he would be a good dad, whether he would be able to relate to a tiny human and have them be a part of his life. So this was much more, this was Jungkook sharing a special part of him with his daughter.

Gidae was unbothered by your appearance and was still hard at work on Jungkook’s other arm now. Although there were no ink patterns to follow there, she was having the time of her life giggling with her blank canvas, probably muttering to herself about her Picasso type-tendencies. 

Your heart was swelling with emotions as your daughter crawled into your lap, proudly waving her markers around in your face to show off her artistic skills.  She started pulling at your bare arm, trying to gain a new place for her to show off her triangle drawing skills. Were you planning on taking a shower today? No. But how could you possibly say no to your daughter’s doe eyes staring at you with all the love in the world. 

Your daughter had decided she wanted to make matching drawings for you and Jungkook - “an abstract masterpiece” was what Jungkook named it as he proudly boasted about how Gidae was destined to be a world class artist. “Your tattoo artist better watch out Kook, our little princess is going to take her job,” you joked as you showed off your daughter’s artwork to him. You lovingly looked down at your daughter, peppering her with kisses even when she started fussing (she was 100% focused on her art, of course). Jungkook could sense your sentimental side starting to show - he always had a second sense for your emotions, even from the first day he met you, and he pulled you into his chest. 

You stopped yourself from crying then, but you couldn’t stop the tears from pouring down your face a week later when Jungkook showed you his newest tattoo; “Gidae”, written in her all too squiggly handwriting.

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Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this please let me know - Emily♡