#pushing my bunny kisses agenda once again

[00fairylights00]

I Guess You Just Don’t Love Me Anymore

GIF from @glowing-starlight on Tumblr

I was so taken by @ash-arts-but-sinful's post which mentions P being jealous of the cat and @oldworldghost’s post which contains the idea of him becoming more mischievous and sassy as he becomes human that I just had to write a little something, I hope it’s alright that I drew on your thoughts for some inspiration!

As a disclaimer, I haven’t finished my first play-through yet so this is more of a character study based off of what I’ve experienced in-game and what I’ve been seeing on Tumblr instead of delving heavily into the world-building and established story that exists within the game. So hopefully no spoilers and it’s very likely that this won’t at all line up with the in-game timeline.

Big thanks to @cupidsredcollar beloved for proofreading <3 

For as long you had known Pinocchio you had never known him to be a jealous individual, in fact, when you’d first met that bleak, overcast morning in Hotel Krat you had been almost unsettled by his uncanny nature. 

His features were perfectly human, aside from the metal prosthetic he’d been fitted with. He had freckles and soft hair, a face that looked fashioned from a real person instead of the smiling caricatures Krat’s puppets were usually fitted with. 

But despite his boyish features, his face barely moved, he nodded along to Sophia as she gave him the task of locating his father, Mr. Geppetto, and tilted his head in question as Lady Antonia explained the concept of lying but his brows didn’t so much as pinch, his lips didn’t quirk and his eyes looked straight through you as you had wished him safety on his travels.

So watching in real time as he came into his own was something you cherished greatly, you continued to watch him grow and change, become something new. Pinocchio chose to spend a lot of his down time with you, he said he found you interesting, that you had a way of explaining humanity that made sense to him and over the last couple of weeks something had started to shift in him.

No, Pinocchio had never been a jealous individual, for as long as you’d known him.

Until today.

Your morning had started normally, woken up by the cool feeling of P’s lips against your forehead, human hand smoothing back your hair. He mumbled something about needing to go out, you tried to convince him to come back to bed, he tried to convince you to get up (he always wins).

P drags you down to the kitchen, you eat and he watches, something that was initially a little awkward but you’ve come to really look forward to, then you farewell each other at the rear entrance of the hotel. 

He holds you close to his chest, resting his lips to your hairline and making you promise to look after yourself and your companions while he’s away, you make him promise to be careful though you know he’s not always able to, often catching glimpses of Sophia muttering blessings and incantations under her breath in the foyer.

“It’s just Ergo hunting today, I’ll be more than careful.” He whispers, human arm winding around your shoulder. You breathe him in, hands to his chest feeling the odd sensation of his heart, not quite a tick but not quite a beat. 

You lean up to kiss against the slant of his jaw, his mechanical pulse jumping in response. He looks down at you, you catch the fondness in his blue eyes without mistake, he captures your lips in his, holding on for a second longer than he knows is necessary (it’s not like you mind though).

Lounging against the doorway, watching him walk towards the entrance of Elysion Boulevard, he turns and gives a last longing look over his shoulder before stepping through the wrought iron gates and disappearing from view.

You sigh, making your way back inside to start on your usual round of chores, helping where you could to take the load off of Polendina who needed more time to focus on Lady Antonia and her illness. You had just returned to the puppet butler for more tasks when you noticed movement on the top of the shelf behind the front desk. 

Sitting tall and proud was Hotel Krat’s resident sweetheart, Spring, tail swishing steadily as she kept watch of the foyer from her perch. The white and orange cat jumped down to the desk as she noticed you, laying down across the dark wood and turning over in gesture for belly rubs; which you gave happily. 

“She’s been very noisy today,” Polendina explained, stroking the cat, “I wonder what she’s trying to tell us?”

“Probably trying to manipulate us into giving her more treats, isn’t that right?” You accused lightly, you were sure that if he could, Polendina would be smiling. 

“There is another load of laundry that needs folding, could I have a hand?” He asked politely.

“Of course Polendina.”

And it seemed you had found yourself a shadow, Spring making an unreasonable amount of noise as she followed you and Polendina around the hotel. She wound between your legs, chirruped in response to your voices and bumped her head against whatever part of your bodies were within her reach. 

It was no surprise that Spring was loved by the inhabitants of the hotel, and it was very apparent that she loved them back, well everyone except for P. Not for lack of trying of course, he followed your advice of trying to build trust between him and the animal but she wouldn’t so much as let P touch her, hissing her disapproval for all to hear.

You’d often watch as P would recoil from Spring, the feline swiping and spitting at the puppet. You couldn’t tell from his expressions if the cat’s dislike for him bummed him out but sometimes as he lay next to you in bed he would lament quietly that Spring hated him, which would award him a sound of humoured pity and a kiss for the cheek.

It wasn’t clear what it was about P that set Spring off so aggressively. In all the time you had spent at Hotel Krat she’d never behaved in such an unfriendly way, even complete strangers who would seek refuge for short periods of time were welcome to interact with Spring freely. 

She would bask in the attention. You hoped that she would eventually come around to the puppet, given it looked like he would be around for the long haul and you just knew the two would be the best of friends if she would stop being so nasty.

But P was patient, far more patient than you were and it showed as you folded and unfolded the same piece of linen for the third time without realising, Polendina placed a gloved hand over your own, silently relieving you of duty.

“Apologies, my mind seems to be elsewhere Polendina.”

“You worry for the boy, it’s only natural that your mind wanders.” You sometimes forget how long Polendina has been around, having been a close companion of Lady Antonia’s for decades. You had a feeling he knew more about human emotions than he let on, somehow he always knew what to say when it came to your thoughts surrounding Geppetto’s Puppet. 

“I just can’t help it, and with him figuring out who he is, I fear he’ll get himself hurt by being too kind.” You wring your hands in your lap, focusing hard on the lines in your skin as you try to keep yourself from thinking of anything too awful.

“He has met humans who have given him trouble before and he has a good head on his shoulders. I would wager that you have nothing to worry about, but I understand that may not put your mind at ease.” 

“It doesn’t but thank you.” Your hand went to Polendina’s shoulder with a smile. “I think I’m going to find something else to do, try and get my mind off of things.”

Polendina nodded once, going back to folding the linens, “I’ll send the boy your way when he returns.”

You smiled in earnest, appreciative of Polendina’s knowing kindness. 

Spring, who had been lounging between you and Polendina, got up, stretching herself out and scampering over to your side. She meowed frantically to grasp your attention. 

Her interruptions continued as you made your way around the kitchen. It wasn’t particularly dirty given how little it was being used now, however, the repetitive action of wiping down the countertops and sweeping the floor were just the distraction you were looking for. 

Your ears perked up at the heavy steps of boots on marble floors, the jingle of P’s belt was something you could identify in your sleep. He stood tall in the doorway, all sweet smiles and fidgeting hands. Happy to see you, always happy to see you.

He was shockingly clean as he approached, resting his forehead to yours as his hands found their place on your waist, all the scolding about tracking oil and muck through the hotel was finally paying off.

You ran your hands over the intricate designs embossed onto the lapel of his coat, smoothing the fabric down before hooking your hands behind his neck.

“Welcome home, pretty boy.” You cooed, brushing your nose against his. 

He liked the small intimacies you shared, bunny kisses you’d come to find were a favourite of his.

“You can go and relax if you want, I’m just cleaning.” You offered, but he shook his head. 

Spring had also gotten bored of waiting on you, brushing up against your legs. So there you stood, sandwiched between your two favourite beings. 

And two shadows wouldn’t be so bad if they would stop getting under foot, you laughed as Spring and P fought for your attention while you made your way around the kitchen.

P hovered close, slinging his arm around your waist as you tried to pass him. You stopped short as he pressed his face into your neck, leaning back against his chest and resting your hands over his wrist. You could feel him smile against your skin, a careful, small smile that only he could manage.

At that moment Spring took it upon herself to jump up onto the counter in front of you, hissing and swiping at P, he scowled and pulled you closer.

“Beast,” he scowled, you gaped at P, smacking the back of your hand at his chest.

“Don’t be horrible, she’s just protecting her territory,” you chided, 

“I haven’t done anything to her, yet she spits at me.” He complained, you thought your ears might be playing tricks on you at the distinct sound of a whine in his tone.

“You love her.” You reminded smugly, a truth he was unable to escape.

“Yeah, unfortunately,” he mumbled, you pushed against his hold, trying to signal your want to move and he hesitantly loosened his grip. Hand ghosting over your waist as he watched you go, you threw a smile over your shoulder which he returned in kind.

You gave Spring a kiss on the head, letting her nuzzle her face against yours before scooping her up and putting her down on the floor where she went back to curling around your legs.

“Ah, so the cat gets a kiss but I don’t?” P asked. You snorted, flinging the rag you’d been using to polish the countertops over your shoulder.

You lent your hip against the counter and crossed your arms over your chest, “you never asked for a kiss, how was I supposed to know that’s what you wanted?”

“I feel like it was obvious.” He placed both of his hands on the counter, stretching his arms out straight as he pushed against the granite. 

You rolled your eyes in jest, unable to keep the fond smile from creeping onto your face, playfully exasperated you closed the short distance between the two of you. Lifting up on your tip-toes to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, he was quick to move his head once you’d pulled back. Hands to your waist and pulling you against him, sealing his lips to yours so quickly it pulled a sound of shock from your throat.

“What’s up with you today, you’ve been awfully touchy.” You teased, twisting the ends of his hair between your fingers. “Not that I’m complaining of course.”

“Missed you,” he murmured, pressing his lips to your forehead tenderly. 

“I missed you too, always miss you when you’re gone.” You placed a hand on his cheek, thumb rubbing gently under his eye.

He pulled the rag from your shoulder and threw it behind you unceremoniously, taking your hand from his cheek to drag you out of the kitchen, a laugh bubbled out of your throat that P was happy to mischievously return.

He led you to the library, seating you at the piano and turning away to rifle through the sheet music stacked in a crate on the floor. He’d been getting better day by day. 

His body wasn’t exactly built to do delicate actions but that never seemed to stop him, in fact, he was inexplicably drawn to all the soft parts of being human even if initially he was afraid to get it wrong. The last thing he’d ever want to do is hurt anyone close to him and for that reason he was acutely aware of the raw strength he possessed.

Though his conscious effort to be gentle made all the difference.

Spring decided she’d had enough of being ignored, jumping up onto the piano bench and brushing up against you, pressing close and then curling down next to you. P turned around, the particular book of sheet music he was searching for held up in his hand, his expression dropped almost comically as he noticed Spring’s position next to you, taking up what was going to be his spot.

“Move her,” he says simply, you throw your head back with a hearty laugh but P’s serious expression doesn’t change.

“No,” you start with a laugh, “Spring got here first, you’ll have to pull up a chair.”

P continued to stand his ground, you wondered if he hoped his very presence would annoy Spring enough that she’d disappear of her own accord, but the cat only opened one eye. She regarded P from her curled up position before nestling her chin back down into her tail. 

It was like Spring knew she was in his spot and was smugly showing off to him, purring loudly.

“P, I’m not moving the cat. Just come and sit on the other side of me.” You insisted, watching as his unappreciated love for the animal won out and he stalked off to get a chair. You chuckled under your breath and passed your fingers through Spring’s soft fur.

“You are so mean to him, you know? He’s quite fond of you and I think you two would be very good friends if you gave him the chance.” You whispered to the cat who ignored you, continuing to purr unabashedly.

Unbeknownst to you, P watched your interaction with the feline from the doorway, his chest feeling warm in a way he wasn’t quite used to yet. Touched by your words that you thought were falling on deaf ears.

He gave in to your fondness for the cat, pulling his chair up next to you, fingers gently flitting across the keys as you hummed softly, head resting comfortably on his shoulder. He decided he didn’t mind this so much.

Late in the evening, however, he decided he did mind. 

You were curled up in your bed a book in hand and Spring dozing lazily in your lap, he entered the room and his shoulders physically dropped.

“What’s the matter?” You asked, thumb placed between the pages of your book as a makeshift bookmark. 

“Nothing,” he mumbled, sitting down unceremoniously on the edge of your bed to take off his shoes.

You placed the now forgotten book on your bedside cabinet, the act of sitting up a little difficult with the cat in your lap. You reached for his shoulder but he shrugged off your hand, trying to hide the action by stripping off his coat.

He stood and draped the coat over the back of your desk chair and moved to unbutton his waistcoat, all while staring down Spring with a scowl.

It clicked.

“Are you jealous of the cat?” You wanted deeply to believe that your Pinocchio was not jealous of a cat, but you couldn’t come up with a more sound explanation.

“I don’t know what that word means.” He lied, avoiding your gaze entirely, unbuckling his belt and dumping it on the desk, Gemini didn’t say anything so you assumed he mustn’t be awake.

“Yes you do,” you rolled your eyes, “I remember very clearly the conversation we had about it.” 

He didn’t respond, turning his back to you and focusing his attention on rifling through the dresser drawer full of his clothes. The sleep clothes he was looking for were folded at the end of the bed.

“It’s okay that you’re jealous of-”

“I am not jealous.” Quick, concise and with no room for argument, he spun back on you. His snapping didn’t phase you.

“Uh huh,” you teased with a smirk, turning all your attention back to Spring who’d been ignoring your exchange.

Perhaps what you were doing was a little mean, given that before you hadn’t been ignoring him on purpose, but it was too fun an opportunity to pass up. P let out a disgruntled huff, shuffling around in your peripheral.

“I guess you just don’t love me anymore.” He offered with his arms crossed over his chest, your jaw dropped and a shocked laugh fell out of your open mouth.

“You take that back, immediately!” You snapped playfully, sitting up fully and annoying the cat enough for her to get up and move.

“Make me.” The challenge he’d levied would mean conceding to his childish behaviour but after all he’d been through, you thought it only fair. 

You pulled the sheets back and stood from the bed, crossing the room to him. He tried to act as though he was uninterested, tried to pretend that your hands on his chest didn’t affect him, tried to ignore the speed of his heart as it hammered under your palm.

Your hands travelled the beaten path they always did, from his chest to his collarbone, then hooking behind his neck. Trying to pull him down was useless, like trying to topple a brick wall with bare hands, but you caught him staring out of the corner of his eye.

“Look at me.” Your whisper was a command, and he had always been faithful to a fault. “I love you.”

He tried to hide the oncoming smile, dropping his chin to his chest, but you were quick to guide his gaze back to yours. There was no way you’d be missing that careful grin. His eyes were soft and gentle when they met your own, there was hesitance in them that you didn’t want to see, so you kissed him.

He melted against you, arms winding around your back and pulling you against his chest, you hummed and he couldn’t stop the full blown grin from forming on his lips; breaking away to look at you like a giddy school boy.

“Are you going to take it back?” You asked, brushing your nose against his in a bunny kiss. 

“Will I still get to kiss you if I do?” He joked, you rolled your eyes albeit in good nature, hands cradling his cheeks as he continued to smile.

“I think that can be arranged,” you mused, leaning in to kiss him again, the two of you falling into familiar rhythm with one another.

Spring slinked out of the partially open door, tail held high, she had seen more than enough.

[peachyysugaa]

sloth and sheep

― yang jungwon x gn!reader

your best friend is acting weird, what seems to be the cause?

genre: fluff, school au, best friends to lovers

warnings: some teasing but it's jungwon what do you expect

wc: 1.3k

a/n: done with my last final! as a gift for being so patient, i wrote this while i was studying and to give myself motivation LOL i'll return with blood castle soon!! ^^

♞──────────────────────────♞

the scribbling of pencils hurriedly rushing to finish their last markings is all you can hear as your teacher counts down. everyone is quickly trying to jot down their final words for the essay.

"3... 2... 1... and stop!" your teacher shouts. some students groan at their inability to finish whereas some let out a sigh of relief. "pencils down, pass your papers to the front please. after that, you're free to go! have a nice summer, everyone!"

you pass your paper to your classmate kim sunoo in front of you. a smile graces his face as he takes it and continues passing the stack. you're packing up your supplies with a steady heartbeat before you hear footsteps approaching. you don't need to look up to know who it is.

"hurry up, y/n!" best friend!yang jungwon whines. you simply roll your eyes at him. the zipper of your pouch is followed by the shuffling of your satchel and the tapping of his feet.

"yah, yang jungwon, don't rush me," you scold.

"i wouldn't have to rush you if you weren't so slow," he continues whining, drawing out the vowels in "so" and "slow."

sighing, you get up and throw your bag over your shoulder.

"finally! i thought i was going to have to leave you!" the brown-haired teenager teases.

"you would never, wonie," you say as you stick your tongue out at him.

"watch me!" jungwon shouts before bolting towards the door and taking off. "last one to get there has to pay for the winner!"

"h-hey!! no fair, you got a head start!" you tell after him, scrambling your feet.

going at his own pace, sunoo shakes his head at the pair of best friends. "ugh, they're so in love it's almost cute."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

you're not able to keep up with jungwon, who could literally run a marathon from his rigorous taekwondo training, so when you reach the shop, you're almost breathless and lucky that the shop is close by the school. the chime of the doorbell welcomes you as you push the door open, the staff greeting you with warm welcomes.

jungwon is already ordering his chocolate ice cream and another one while you hurriedly find your wallet. surprisingly though, he nonchalantly hands a cone over to you with your favorite ice cream flavor and pays for it himself.

"but i thought you said...?" you stiffly mumble out.

"your ice cream is melting, slowpoke," he simply states. your eyes widen as you quickly go to lick the sugary liquid before it can drip onto your hand. he's calmly watching you in amusement while enjoying his own dessert. "let's walk back, yeah?"

you're curious as to where his energy went, he's usually more playful with you, but you follow him out the store nonetheless. "sure, just tell me why you're acting so weird, wonie."

as the two of you start walking back on the road home, it's oddly silent. usually your way home (a/n: haha txt song) is filled with laughter and inside jokes, so the silence is extremely uncomfortable and feels much longer than the 3 minutes it actually is.

"alright, yang jungwon, you've been way too quiet. what are you planning, you sneaky bunny?" you give in, making a stop in your tracks. the streets are quiet as the sun begins to set and the once-in-a-while car whooshes past. he turns around with his wide doe eyes staring back at you rather earnestly.

"wh-why are you looking at me like that?" you unconsciously stammer out. jungwon suddenly takes a few steps closer, making you walk backwards into a wall. his hand come forward and encases you between the wall and his body. you can't help but take in the scent of detergent that surrounds you when he traps you, his brown hair that reminds you of a chocoball, and his eyes staring back at you. "w-what—"

you're cut off by a pair of fingers flicking your forehead before you're holding it in response to the pain. "ow! what was that for?!"

"you're keeping us from getting home! i want to watch movies, but you're being slow, y/n," he states before releasing you and walking briskly towards your shared street. "hurry up, or you're not sleeping over tonight."

"h-hey! you can't do that! it's our tradition to do ice cream and movies on the last day of finals!" you scold, rushing after him. when you catch up, you latch onto his back, jungwon's reflexes immediately kicking in and catching you and your legs as your limbs wrap around him. "if you're going to call me slow, i'll just hang on you like a sloth!"

the teenage boy laughs joyfully. "you already were one! sloth y/n, sloth y/n," he chants.

"i'll approve of this sloth y/n agenda only because you're carrying me like you're my moving branch."

"sure, sure. that's my new contact name for you, by the way."

"huh? what was it before?" you ask. you tilt your head forward to rest on his shoulder. the scent of coconut from his conditioner fills your nose as you do so.

"just dummy," he replies coolly. "what's yours for me?"

"first of all, i'm not a dummy," you pout. "second, remember that time you dressed up as a sheep for student council?"

"nooo!" he groans out as if he knows what's coming.

"yess! it's sheep garden to match your contact picture," you tease.

"then i'll dress you like a sloth to match your nickname."

"i thought you had most of our shared brain cells, wonie. sloths are too hairy to dress up as."

"not my problem, get hairy then." you slap his back as his reply. "yah! i'll file best friend abuse against you!"

"go ahead, no one else will deal with your whiny heinie."

"i'm dropping you because you said that."

you gasp. "you wouldn't."

a smirk appears on his face before he says, "try me." and he does it, making you yelp as he lets you fall to your butt on the grassy lawn of his house. "who's a whiny heinie now? pay the uber fees, sloth."

"yea, i'll pay alright," you mumble.

he doesn't catch it and looks at you curiously. "sorry, what d—whoa!!"

as he's talking, you pull his arm and cause him to come down to the ground with you, except the plan didn't end much like how you intended. you definitely didn't intend to be in a compromising position with jungwon hovering over you and trapping you like he had done earlier.

once again, your eyes are locked with his seas of dark brown, searching for some kind of sign, some kind of reason to act on the skyrocketing pulse of your heartbeat. you're too caught up in your thoughts that you don't hear him say, "you know what? screw it."

when his lips press against yours, you only have a few moments to realize and return the press before he's pulling away.

"wonie..." you breathe out. breathless is all that can describe you as your brain wraps around the fact that not only did you have your first kiss, but your first kiss was with yang jungwon, your best friend and crush. the two of you start to sit up, not really saying anything else with your legs intertwined.

it's him who breaks the silence. "i like you, y/n."

and it's you who reached forward to pull him into a hug. he's frozen as your arms take place around his neck and your lips go towards his ear to whisper, "i like you too, jungwonie."

his cheerful giggles that you've come to love and adore erupt out as he wraps his arms around you. knowing the two of you liked each other didn't change the way you acted together, but it made the time you two spent together even more special, now that you can hold hands and rub circles or cuddle while watching movies: doing the same traditions felt brand new.

[daemour]

You’re Still My Universe pt. 1

Title: You’re Still My Universe

Pairing: Jinyoung x ???? to be determined GOT7 Member

Genre: Fluff, hint of angst, parent au

Warnings: Sexual jokes

Word count: 1849 lol

Summary: Jinyoung's life is devoted to his son. But the first time he's been separated, so many other people barge into his life and start taking up what little free time he has left.

Honestly this is me winging it so hahahaha i suffer every day

--

“Yugyeom, you can’t go out like that,” Jinyoung almost hisses at the young child but manages to hold onto his last shred of patience. “We wear pants outside of the apartment. Pants, Yugyeom. Pants.” With each word, Jinyoung emphasises more and more.

The little demon that Jinyoung called his son turns around with a big grin on his tiny face. “Pants are stupid!” God, how could he look so innocent and endearing at this moment? Jinyoung could rip his own hair out but Yugyeom was smiling at him with such a sweet grin.

“They are very stupid, but we must wear them, all right, Yugyeom?” To Jinyoung’s relief, Yugyeom finally skids to a stop on the floor, slipping a little because of his, quite frankly, adorable bunny socks that he received for his birthday. “Can you go put on pants for me? Then we can go to the park as I had promised.”

Yugyeom nods, still with a smile on his face, and runs off toward his room. Jinyoung practically collapses into the bookshelf. Why Yugyeom had so much energy, even more so as a four–year–old, confuses the hell out of him. But he loves his son.

The day he had gotten custody of the one–year–old whose mother (and Jinyoung’s ex) had died in a car crash, Jinyoung had fallen in love. The tiny child had looked up at him and asked where ‘mama’ was and Jinyoung swore that he would take care of this child to the best of his ability. Yugyeom managed to surprise him every day, and Jinyoung often surprised himself with how he dealt with Yugyeom being a child.

“Daddy!” And there is his little hell child again, tearing through the halls once again. Yugyeom runs straight into the side of the couch, and Jinyoung almost laughs at the sight. “Can we go now?” Yugyeom is practically undented, getting up just as quickly as he fell over and coming over to tug at his father’s hand.

Jinyoung just sighs, letting his son drag him over to the coat rack. It was hung way too low, but Yugyeom had insisted that he be able to reach it. He’s just whipped for his son, letting Yugyeom help him put on his scarf. “Ready to go, Gyeomie-ah?” Jinyoung smiles down at his son, who nods eagerly.

“I wanna go to park!” Jinyoung laughs out loud, eyes crinkling. Yugyeom has no time for his father’s adoration though, he has an agenda, and that agenda is to go to the park. Jinyoung opens the door, letting Yugyeom pull him out.

“Wait a little, Yugyeom, I’ll need to lock the door.” Yugyem huffs a little, but ever obedient, waits, tapping his foot impatiently. Looks like Yugyeom has picked up a couple of his father’s habits. Jinyoung finally finishes up, and Yugyeom almost immediately takes off like the hellspawn he is. Thankfully, Jinyoung was now used to his son’s abundant energy and takes Yugyeom’s small hand in his.

“Baby, you can’t run off like that, all right? I don’t want to lose you,” Jinyoung reprimands gently, and Yugyeom nods, though he was more focused on sucking on his bottom lip wetly to try to make a fart noise. Jinyoung sighs. He’ll just have to keep a closer eye on the kid.

The park is almost a block away, and Jinyoung has to refrain from scooping Yugyeom up on the sidewalk. He’s always been wary about letting Yugyeom near cars after what happened to his mother. What if dying in a car crash ran in DNA? He knows he’s being too cautious, but Jinyoung didn’t want to lose Yugyeom.

“Daddy, you have a stupid grin,” Yugyeom chirps from beside Jinyoung, sweaty hand still grabbing onto his father’s palm. Jinyoung thinks maybe he could throw Yugyeom to the wolves instead.

“Don’t be mean, Yugyeomie-ah,” Jinyoung half-heartedly scolds the child. He’s too soft on him, honestly. It’s shown when Yugyeom pays no heed, instead just pressing his mouth to Jinyoung’ hand and licking it. Jinyoung can feel a little bit of his soul die.

Thankfully, they reach the park with no more licking or insults from Yugyeom, and Jinyoug lets Yugyeom’s hand go with only a little hesitation. Yugyeom, though, has no hesitation and immediately streaks toward the swing set. Jinyoung has no trouble keeping up thankfully, the swing set is straight ahead and Yugyeom isn’t doing any weaving between people.

The park is actually pretty empty, it being a weekday. Yugyeom didn’t start school for another two years, and Jinyoung was ready to monopolise his time with his son. He couldn’t even imagine a world without his son now that he took care of him. Yugyeom was all he needed.

“Daddy, come push me!” And it may be a little selfish, Jinyoung thinks as he makes his way over to his son, it may be a little selfish but he wants to be the only one Yugyeom depends on. As Yugyeom smiles up at him, head hanging back like it might drop off, Jinyoung’s heart almost melts.

He just loves his son. “Yugyeom-ah?” Yugyeom turns back, legs kicking in the swing.

“Yeah, Daddy?”

“I love you.” Yugyeom squeals and makes grabby hands at Jinyoung, and Jinyoung, always soft for his son, takes his little hands and kisses them.

“I love you too!” Yugyeom slurs out the words, leaning forward and giving Jinyoung a big, wet kiss on the hand as well. A very wet kiss. But Jinyoung loves it anyway, giggling and pressing one more kiss to the top of Yugyeom’s head. This time Yugyeom sighs with a little pout. “Daddy, I wanna be pushed.”

Jinyoung barks out a short laugh, returning to his place behind the swing. “Your wish is my command, little prince.” Yugyeom grins, toothy and wide.

“You can be my knight, daddy! Knight Daddy!” Yugyeom smiles up at Jinyoung once again and Jinyoung can’t help but press a kiss to the top of Yugyeom’s head once more. The kid giggles once more, twisting in his seat as the swing comes to a halt. “Daddy! You’re my knight! No kisses!”

Jinyoung snorts but assumes a face of stoicism. “My liege, I shall do what you request.” He bends into a kneel, and Yugyeom giggles happily.

“I wanna find a king! A prince has a king!” He pauses, and Jinyoung peeks up at his son. “Daddy? What’s a liege?” Jinyoung holds back a snort, Yugyeom would not have been amused.

“It’s what a prince is to a knight, someone who is more powerful.” Yugyeom is pleased with the explanation, hopping off the swing and toddling around. Jinyoung follows him closely behind.

Yugyeom is looking for another friend to play with him, and Jinyoung feels slightly sorry he took Yugyeom on a weekday. He had a lot of work lately, so today was the only free day. Thankfully, Yugyeom still seems to have the time of his life climbing around on the empty playground anyway.

Jinyoung lifts him up to do monkey bars and Yugyeom squeals in delight. He’s glad the kid is having fun; though he works at home he is often too busy to spend time with his son and Jinyoung always feels bad. He knows Yugyeom loves him but he worries sometimes.

“Hi!” Jinyoung snaps his head up. He had set Yugyeom down to tie his shoe and his son had run off and was talking to some stranger who was jogging on the path around the park. “Can you be king?” Oh, God. Jinyoung is mortified.

He quickly walks up to Yugyeom. “Yugyeomie, don’t bother strangers, all right?” He picks up his son, much to the child’s chagrin. “I’m really sorry,” he apologises to the man as Yugyeom squirms a little.

The stranger just laughs a loud laugh that Yugyeom immediately mirrors with a wide smile. It’s a domino effect, and Jinyoung can feel the corners of his lips pull up as well. “Are you missing a king?” Before Jinyoung can respond, Yugyeom nods empathetically.

“I’m a prince and daddy is a knight! Can you be king?” Jinyoung can feel his face heat up and the man smiles wide and pretty.

“Yeah, I can be a king. Did you know my last name means king?” Yugyeom grins at that, squirming even more. After getting a tiny hand in his mouth, Jinyoung finally sets Yugyeom down.

“King? Really?” Yugyeom is way too excited about this fact. “Are you a king?” The stranger laughs again.

“No, little buddy, it’s just my last name. I’m Jackson Wang.” Jackson squats down and offers Yugyeom a hand. Yugyeom takes it gleefully and shakes it, grinning wide at Jackson.

“I’m Yugyeom! And this is Daddy!” Jackson looks up at Jinyoung with a short breath of laughter.

“Hi, Daddy,” he says a lot more sultry than needed and Jinyoung chokes on his spit. Jackson giggles again, seemingly never running out of laughter.

“I’m Jinyoung,” he corrects—is it really correcting?—and Jackson stands up, offering a hand to Jinyoung as well. Jinyoung shakes it with a slight smile. Jackson was a very handsome man, Jinyoung wouldn’t deny. He had a good face with strong features, and Jinyoung couldn’t help but be drawn to him.

“Are you the father of this cutie?” Jackson nods toward Yugyeom, who makes grabby hands at Jinyoung. Jinyoung bends down to pick Yugyeom up with a groan. Yugyeom was getting bigger, Jinyoung would have to get more clothes for his son soon, and maybe work out a little more too. All his son wants, it seems, was up, down, up, down.

“I am,” Jinyoung answers, and with that, Yugyeom reaches out and extends his hand towards Jackson.

“High five,” he chirps and Jinyoung laughs softly. His cousin, Wonpil, had gotten Yugyeom to start asking everyone for high fives, and it was rather endearing. Jackson apparently finds it endearing as well, giving Yugyeom what he asked for with an even bigger smile.

“How old are you, Yugyeomie?” The nickname slips out of Jackson’s mouth easily and Jinyoung has to hold back a smile at how cute the interaction is. Yugyeom beams right back at Jackson, holding up one hand with all fingers spread.

“I’m four!” Jinyoung chuckles.

“Baby, that’s five fingers.” Yugyeom laughs, ignoring it, and Jackson snorts as well.

“I’m not a baby! I’m a prince!” Yugyeom pouts at his father, and Jinyoung laughs.

“Apologies, my lord.” His son is appeased, grinning up at his father and patting his cheek. If it was anyone else, Jinyoung would’ve found it condescending but Yugyeom was an exception.

“Can you play?” Yugyeom immediately turns to Jackson with a big, moon-eyed, grin right now. He has never so much seemed like a big, friendly, puppy at this moment. Jinyoung mouths a ‘sorry’ at the man, who just smiles indulgently.

“I always have time to play,” he agrees, and Yugyeom beams, wriggling out of Jinyoung’s arms and holding out a hand to Jackson. Jinyoung watches with a fond smile as Yugyeom tugs Jackson across the playground when–

“Daddy, you’re supposed to be my knight!” Jinyoung has been summoned.

[xmxisxforxmaybe]

How bout “Are we really gonna do this in public?” And “Someone’s gonna hear you.” For which ever character these spark your writing muses for. 😁😉

We both know who these prompts were made for 😉 I hope you enjoy! 

Warning: Smut below the cut 💓

* * * * *

“Gene—this place is amazing!” you gushed, wrapping up your childhood friend in a tight hug.

Gene laughed in your ear and the sound filled you with a warmth that rivaled the heat radiating from the huge fireplace in the center of the ski lodge.

“It’s good to hear you laugh,” you said as you grasped his upper arms and looked over his face, taking in the way his eyes sparkled.

“It’s amazin’ what a change of scenery can do for a fella.”  

“I’m glad you invited me.”

“Let me introduce you to the rest of the gang. This is Burgie and his gal Florence. Bill, Jim, and Charlie and his sister Candace. That’s Marilyn and her cousin Frances in the corner chattin’ up the ski instructors. And this is Snafu.”

You smiled and said polite hellos until your eyes reached the last of Gene’s friends and you suddenly found yourself without even the simplest of words. You knew your cheeks flushed at the way the man looked at you as if he were peeling back each layer of your identity so he could take a peek at the part of yourself kept the most hidden away. You’d never really met anyone who could look at person like that—or maybe it was just you because everyone else seemed unaffected by his presence.

Doing the only thing you could, you gave him a small wave and turned back to Gene to ask which room you would be staying in. He hopped around the counter and produced a key for a room on the third floor.

“It’s small, but it has the best view,” he grinned.

You thanked him and waved off his efforts to carry your luggage upstairs. As you walked by the mantel Snafu was leaning on, you could feel his eyes on you, taking in every step of your movement.

When you slipped the key in the lock, opened the door, and shut it behind you, you felt such an immense amount of relief that you sighed and dropped your bags right by the door.

And then, with a sharp intake of breath, you looked out of the spectacular window that framed the outermost wall of your room. Gene was right—it was small, but the view was breathtaking. You could see snow for miles and miles; the trees were coated with it and the mountains were a greyish blue in the background with snow-covered tops, just like in magazine pictures.

The cold was a welcome change from the dull warmth of the south in winter. You’d only ever really seen snow once when you were a child. An anomaly of a storm came through and snowed six inches, effectively reducing Mobile to a state of chaos for nearly a week.

But this, this kind of white brilliance as far as the eye could see was breathtaking. You wanted nothing more than to don your snowsuit and jump in it.

And as it turned out, over the next few days, you did get intimately acquainted with the snow as you fell down time and time again while learning to ski. You were starting to grow concerned for the state of your backside, as you were now certain that the bruise on it was never going to heal.

As it turned out, though, the mysterious Snafu picked up skiing like it was in his nature. When you fell for the third time in as many minutes, he extended his hand to help you back up.

“I feel like we haven’t been properly introduced,” he said, his voice a soothing bass, startlingly masculine for his small frame.

“I’m Merriell Shelton. Snafu to Sledge n’ the boys, of course.”

“Southern Louisiana?” you asked, recognizing the Cajun accent.

“Yes ma’am,” he said as he finally wrestled you into a standing position.

“Thank you. This is a lot harder than it looks. How long have you been skiing?”

“Bout as long as you,” he said with a dazzling grin.

“You’re lying.”

He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

“Swear on my momma’s grave.”

“Fuck,” you said, eliciting a deep laugh from the Cajun that you knew, instantly, you wanted to hear again.

“How ‘bout I stick with ya? Try to teach ya at least as much as I’ve learned so far?”

“Thank you, Merriell. I would appreciate your attention since the ski instructors have clearly already chosen their favorites,” you said glancing up the hill at Marilyn and Frances, skiing slowly, side by side with the instructors, laughing as they learned to turn their skis to a point and come to a stop, something they had neglected to teach you.

Merriell followed your gaze but said nothing, and instead, pulled you back to catch the rope that led up the bunny slope.

Merriell was an excellent teacher. He was patient, and just laughed on the two occasions you managed your get your skis tangled and ended up taking him down with you. By the end of the day, you had conquered the bunny slope and the least steep beginner’s trail.

“Success!” you cheered, sliding to a stop as Merriell waited for you at the bottom, that same wide grin on his face, his teeth flashing just as brilliantly as the snow, his skin a gorgeously dark contrast made even more pretty by the way the cold turned his cheeks and nose a little red.

“How ‘bout we celebrate with dinna and a drink?”

“Gene doesn’t have anything on the agenda for tonight?”

“He may—but I’m suggestin’ we make our own plans.”

You bit your lip and looked into those overpowering green eyes, so bright as they reflected the last light of the sun as it hit the snow.

“Alright. I need to change into something much less … wet.”

“Let’s get you outta dem skis,” he said, leaning over to pop your boot loose with his pole.

About an hour and three dress changes later, you met Merriell in the living room of Gene’s lodge. He was dressed in dark grey slacks and a green turtleneck sweater that made you want to drag him straight up to your room so you could beg him to fuck you against all that glass as you watched the last of the skiers’ runs down the mountain.

Your final outfit seemed to have the same effect on Merriell as you watched his eyes unabashedly look at you from head to toe.

“Stunnin’,” he whispered as you approached, pulling a shy smile from you.

“Not so bad yourself.”

“I know. I could tell I picked the right sweata by the way ya looked at me.”

Your mouth popped open, completely knocked off your game by the way he read your body language and by the way he was arrogant enough to tell you about it.

“Catchin’ flies now, are we?” he said as he reached out to push your chin up and close your mouth.

“Let’s go to dinner,” you said slowly after taking a breath, looking at Merriell Shelton as if he were the first genus of an entirely new species of man.

Dinner was nothing more than foreplay, both of you flirting, laughing, and using any excuse at all to touch each other until you finally said, “Merriell—I have to be honest. I’ve never been so interested in a man so suddenly before. You’re quite … special.”

For the first time that night, you managed to say something that really surprised him, and he turned shy.

“I’m nothin’ special, Y/N. I just like ya. Sometimes, it’s nice to let someone know instead of havin’ to play all the games.”

“I don’t want to play games,” you said, your hand reaching beneath the table to grasp his thigh. “In fact, I don’t want to wait a minute longer to show you that I do think you’re special.”

Merriell’s eyebrows shot up, clearly taken aback by what you assumed was a role reversal. You were certain it was always Merriell Shelton doing the initiating, but there was something, something about him that gave you the confidence to tell him you wanted him, needed him.

You leaned forward, your hand still grasping his thigh, and when your faces with only a breath apart you whispered, “Kiss me.”

And he did.

It was a soft, close-mouthed kiss, but you worked to memorize the way his lips felt beneath yours, around yours, but before either of you could deepen the kiss, your waiter cleared his throat.

“Your check, I presume?”

You had forgotten you were in the middle of a dimly lit, romantic, but extremely busy restaurant.

“Oh,” you said, leaning back into your chair as Merriell chuckled and pulled out his wallet.

“Yes, sir. We’d like the check.”

The waiter disappeared, and you dissolved into a fit of giggles, hiding your blushing face behind your hands.

“Merriell—I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. My mother, god love her, was probably just struck with an inexplicable desire to clutch her pearls.”

Merriell laughed and laid his arm across the back of your chair as you picked up the last of your drink and drained the glass, a smile still on your lips.

The waiter returned and Merriell paid for your dinner. You took an extra few dollars from your purse and left a large tip.

“Atonin’ for scandalizin’ the serva?”

“I think so, yes,” you said laughing again as Merriell chuckled and pushed in your chair.

“I think there’s somethin’ else I need to teach ya,” he said, a wicked gleam in his eye as he seemed to regain the upper hand, your assertiveness feeding his own.

Merriell took your hand and led you to the restroom at the far end of the restaurant. It was large and fancy and clearly marked as the ladies’ room.

He swiftly locked the door behind him, and you marveled at the fact that it was unoccupied.

Merriell read the expression on your face and smiled, “Must be fate.”

You shivered as you moved closer to him and dropped your coat on the little couch in the center of the outer powder room.  

“Are we really gonna do this in public?”

“Ya wanna wait?”

“No,” you said wrapping your arms around his neck, your fingers bunching in his sweater as you pulled him closer for a real kiss.

It was clear within minutes of kissing that Merriell Shelton was born to do just this—to defile ladies like yourself in restrooms, in train cars, in taxi cabs, anywhere he fucking liked. The man had you worked up into such a frenzy with just his lips and his tongue, that you moaned loudly at the thought of what he could do with his fingers or his cock.

He laughed softly as he pulled his lips off your neck and said, “Someone’s gonna hear you.”

“I can’t bring myself to care,” you said your eyes clouded with desire as you palmed him through the front of his trousers, your nails scratching along the bulge of his cock as a moan then escaped his throat.

He pushed you over to the sink and lifted you on top as your hands worked open his trousers. His fingers slid up your dress and swiftly pushed aside your panties, his grin wolfish as he felt how wet you were.

When he slid a long, thick finger into your center, you clenched around him and you both moaned at the sensation.

“You’re fuckin’ perfect,” Merriell breathed, his forehead resting against yours as you scooted to the edge of the sink, aching for him to fill you up.

“Show me—show me how perfect I am.”

Merriell pulled back and looked at you, his eyes roaming your face, his gaze stripping away any remaining inhibitions, leaving you feeling just as raw as you felt the first time he had ever looked you.

He pulled his finger out and swirled your wetness over the tip of his hard cock. He pulled you even closer to his hips and you wrapped your legs around him as he slowly slid into you, inch by inch until you could feel him bottom out.

Your leaned back and you sighed with content, squeezing around him and encouraging him to move.

“Show me,” you demanded again.

And Merriell Shelton moved, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back into you. He fucked you at a steady pace, both of you ignoring the delicate, intermittent knocks on the door. In the back of your mind, you knew that someone would tell someone on the staff eventually, but you prayed to god it wasn’t before your orgasm.

Merriell shifted his hips and pulled your panties further to the side, allowing him to work your swollen clit with his thumb. A few quick, hard circles of pressure was all you needed and you were coming on his cock, his hand pressed against your mouth to stifle your moans. He slowed down and let you come, but as soon as your breathing evened out, he pulled you against him and fucked you, bouncing you off the sink as he chased his orgasm.

You were so excited by the way he fucked you, another orgasm began to build with each brush of his cock against your inner wall, and when he bit down on your shoulder to stifle his own groan of pleasure as he came, you yelled his name when stars burst behind your eyes, completely giving away just what was going on inside of the ladies’ restroom.

As you heard the turn of a key in the lock, you and Merriell scrambled to put yourselves in order. His cum filled your panties as you hopped off the sink and yanked your dress into place while standing in front of him as he zipped up his trousers just as the door burst open with your poor, poor waiter being the one who had retrieved the key to unlock the door.

“I should’ve known,” he groaned, standing aside to let you and Merriell rush out the door, your laughter echoing as you dashed out of a restaurant you knew you could never show your faces in again.

“So,” you asked, turning to face him as you reached the snow-covered walkway outside of the restaurant, “your room or mine?”

Merriell scooped you up, the snow falling heavily and quickly, and spun you around until you giggled.

“I hear ya room has the best view.”

“It does,” you said with a wicked grin, thinking back to the idea of Merriell Shelton fucking you against that big, gorgeous window.

“And I think I know a way we can make it even better.”  

[gucciharrywritings]

I’m Not Yours pt.I

Singer!Y/N

Mentions: Angst, swearing

When Y/N’s new, rather sexual, music video comes out, Harry can’t help but get a bit protective of his girl.

NOTE: The music video is not a certain song, but I will use shots from different Ariana Grande music videos to represent the music video.

Harry had been on the set of the video, he’d watched Y/N filming, he’d seen the things she was doing. He hadn’t seen the final product, the editing and how everything would fit together.

He had an idea, though.

Y/N had invited Harry and his band to come watch it together, throw a little release party at her penthouse. She was convinced he was going to love it, since she worked so hard on it and loved it so much, herself.

“Mitch, can you hand me the remote?” She asks the long haired man.

He nods, snatching up the black controller from the accent table beside the couch and handing it to her, “Here you go.”

He plops down beside Harry, who was snugly sat by Y/N. Well, she was leaning against Harry, so it was a bit mor than snug. Adam plops on Y/N’s other side, Clare beside him, and then Sarah sits beside Mitch.

As they all are comfy on the couch, Y/N opens up YouTube on her TV, trying to contain her giddy smile as she sees her music video trending number one. She clicks on it, biting into her bottom lip as she hears her song start, feeling Harry squeeze her bicep gently, his arm around her.

He kisses her head softly, and she can feel his smile as the song begins.

It’s mainly her in a darkened club, some of her in a throne with black lace lingerie one, her hair down in waves, cascading down her back gracefully. She was so proud of it, proud of her team and everyone who helped film it.

There were scenes with her pushing some men back against a wall then leaving them stood there breathlessly. This song particularly was about her only wanting one man (Harry, obviously) and not caring about the others.

As the song nears the end, the beat dropping once more, it shows Y/N now in a black rubber bodysuit, Black bunny-shaped mask on. She thought it was sexy and fit the song perfectly, and kind of exposed her kinky side some. (Something she hadn’t really gone into with Harry, but really wanted to.)

As the song finally ends, Y/N is beaming. She felt sexy when they were shooting it, felt amazing watching it back, and that was all she wanted.

Adam, Clare, Sarah, and Mitch all burst into cheers, Clare leaning over to engulf Y/N in a tight hug, making the girl giggle.

Y/N was a bit shy to admit it, but she really hoped Harry liked the song. She’d written it about him, and the music video was representing how sexy he made her feel, how confident he made her feel and how she only ever wanted him.

So, as Clare pulls away, rambling about how awesome the video was, Y/N blushes as she thanks her over and over. Finally, she’d turned to Harry, who, she noticed, was rather quiet.

“Did you like it, Haz?” She asks, hope in her voice and eyes into gleaming to his, which weren’t looking at her for some reason.

He looks over soon enough, then a small smile on his face that looked a bit... forced? “It was bloody amazing’, lovie.”

Y/N can feel something off, something in his smile that looks a bit too tight, and how his words didn’t really that Harry oomph behind them.

It was something that she’d learned to detect in their 8 months together.

“Thanks, bub,” She replies easily, though, leaning over to kiss him.

His hand slides onto her hips, holding a bit to tight for Y/N not to worry. What had gotten into him?

Neither speak of it the rest of the night. It was only after another two hours, when Harry’s band all said their goodbyes and congratulated Y/N once more before she decided to say something.

“Harry,” She starts softly, following him into the kitchen, “If you didn’t like the video, you could just tell me. I won’t be offended or anything.”

She would be. She’d be heartbroken if he didn’t like it. She’d made it for him, an underlying message.

“I-“ He tried to say, then sighing, placing his hands on the kitchen island as he leans on it. “I didn’t not like it.”

That makes Y/N frown.

“What do you mean?”

Harry hates how her voice is slowly breaking, but he can hear her trying to hide it, sees out of the corner of his eyes how she shuffled a bit and wrapped her arms around herself some. The last thing he ever wanted was for her to feel insecure or uncomfortable around him.

“Lovie, I just,” Harry’s really struggling to find the words. He loved it. He loved how sexy she looked, the confidence that radiated through the screen, he loved the song. Harry absolutely loved every aspect.

But he despised how other people would love it also. Specifically, other men. Harry was jealous.

“You can tell me honestly, I want to know,” She says softly, stood across the kitchen island from him. She was mentally preparing for him to say anything, reminding herself that they’d been together 8 months and if they want to keep this good streak going, they need honesty.

Harry groans out, finally blurting, “I just hate how other men are going to probably jack off to it! They’ll probably drool and think about inappropriate things, and I hate that!”

Y/N was going to giggle, laugh it off in relief because his problem wasn’t with her, it was with the reaction it would get.

But then he adds lowly, “Jus’ wish you would made it more PG, focused more on the music.”

Focus more on the music. That’s where her gears begin turning a bit.

“What?” Her voice comes quiet, but it’s laced in disbelief and hurt, pure hurt.

Harry realizes his mistake quickly, sighing as he rubs his hands over his face, eyes meeting Y/N’s cold one with sincere regret. “No, Y/N, I-I didn’t mean it like it that, I—“

“Then what did you mean it like?” She asks, voice dangerously calm.

Harry didn’t like it, how she was so quiet and just genuinely hurt from his words that she couldn’t even yell at him. From the comment he made, he’d already begun internally yelling at himself.

He tries to excuse his words, but there is nothing. He had just told her to focus on the music more, stop flaunting her body and make something more conservative. And Harry was about to close his lips in a car door so he could never utter anything again.

“I-I don’t know why I said that, I was just upset!” Harry tells her the truth. He hadn’t even thought before he said it, was just muttering the first things that came to mind. “I don’t like the idea of anyone thinking of you sexually—“

“Women think about you sexually all the time, just as men are going to about me,” Y/N scoffs, finally getting a bit angry, “Oh, but sorry, I’m asking for it by releasing a music video where I sing about sex or am wearing lingerie. Yeah, the difference between us, Harry, is I just can’t seem to focus on the music, only on my desperate desire to be fucked by some strangers.”

Every single word hits Harry like a knife, him wincing at the very last part.

“I-I’m so sorry,” He quietly manages, looking at her, eyes welling in tears some as he realizes just how he’d hurt her. “I-I understand what I said was wrong, and I didn’t mean it. I love you, Y/N, and I didn’t like the thought of other men seeing you in that way, but it’s your body-“

“I. Am not. Yours,” She sternly speaks, looking right into his eyes. “I will not base the decisions regarding my career around your agenda, Harry Styles.”

“I know, I know, I fully understand that,” He quickly agrees, “I take back everything I said, please, Y/N.”

Y/N closes her eyes, looking down at the marble counter before sighing, “You know I made it for you. The song was about you, how I didn’t want anyone but you, how I’d never want anyone to touch me or have me in that way except you, Harry.”

Harry has never felt like more a dickhead.

“Lovie,” He quietly mumbles, “I—“

“I need sometime,” She tells him, “I’ll call you tomorrow, maybe.”

Harry nods, closing his eyes to try and stop the tears from slipping down his cheeks, but a couple escape, so he quickly wipes them away. “Y-Yeah, yeah, absolutely, all the time you need, Y/N. I’m always here.”

He walks to the kitchen entrance, then quietly adding, “I love you,” before he leaves the penthouse. The sound of the door clicking closed rings in Y/N’s eats as she stands in the same spot, unmoving for a couple minutes.

She wasn’t sure what to do.

+

Part II