#this song is so them and i will not shut up abou it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hotforharrysheart · 2 years

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The Fight

The whole of Harry’s crew and all your friends were listening to your podcasts now. You had done two and literally every person you talked to asked you when the next one was gonna be. The demand was high. Glenne heard it and immediately took it to her boss who loved it and before you knew it, you had a deal with Apple for two podcasts a month. You were so happy but also somewhat overwhelmed with the deadlines. The case you were working on had taken longer than you expected - materials were delayed and the lead investigator got sick and you were down to the wire and had to have everything ready in two days and you were stressed. You’re in a spare dressing room, writing and re-writing your opening statement and questions when Harry comes in.

“Hi baby.”

“Hi.” Clipped.

“Y’ok? Miss ya,” he says coming up behind you and kissing your neck.

You glance at the clock. He’d just finished sound check which sends you into more of a panic because you wanted to be farther along than you were so you could watch the concert tonight. You kiss his cheek quickly. “I’m busy with this new podcast. Can I catch up with you later?”

He huffs. He’s not used to being ignored especially when he has time to spend with you. “Thought ya might be hungry.”

“I am, but I really don’t have time to eat right now with the show tonight,” you say, lips between your teeth.

“C’mon, come get somethin’ to eat an’ give me a cuddle.”

“I really can’t right now. I’ll be at the show. Just need to get this done.” You huff. You’re stressed and he’s annoying you. You already said no.

“Don’ hafta be huffy. Ya pester me befo’ I go on an’ I don’ get pissy abou’ it.” He says, chuckling.

You turn around and look at him, blinking rapidly. He literally spoke your deepest fear about being on the road out loud…that you’d be in the way and bothering him. “I can’t believe you,” you say, grabbing your purse and pushing past him to the door, shutting it behind you, wheezing with the effort of holding in your tears. You can hear him shouting wait behind you as you slip off and make your way to the exit.

Just as he’s about to take off in a run after you his sound manager comes running in to let him know they’ve been looking for him because they may have a potential problem and they need him to come run through some songs. He hesitates to leave the area, but can’t imagine that you’d go far, so he heads the direction of the stage stopping to look back a few times. He knows he hurt you with his words, but he never ever intended them to sound the way they came out.

You reach the exit door and stop, your hand on the push bar, tears streaming down your face. Logically you know you should stay, but you need to get out of here. Just need to get away, alone, some time to think is all you can think about at the moment. You’re tired, stressed and now you wonder if you’ve made a mistake, if maybe you were too quick to agree to this. The sobs can’t be held in any longer. Pushing the door open you walk down the sidewalk having no idea where you’re going, just knowing you need to go.

After twenty minutes of walking, you find a little coffee shop and go in and have a seat. The barista who would typically expect a customer to order from the counter, comes out and asks if you need anything. Immediately, you’re thankful that she speaks English and place an order for a tall coffee, thinking you’re gonna need it now because it looks like you won’t be able to attend the show because you have so much work to catch up on. The tears start to fall again, and you’re wipe constantly in an effort to not bring attention to yourself. You just need to be lost for a minute away from everything so you can focus on what to do about you and Harry. The barista brings over the coffee and a leaves an apple muffin saying, “it’s on me,” she can tell you’re upset, but thankfully doesn’t pry. You thank her and promptly take a bite although the last thing on your mind is eating, but you don’t want to turn down someone’s kindness. You realize that’s the kind of thing Harry would do and that just makes your eyes burn more. He’s so kind and thoughtful, maybe he’s getting tired of being around you? Maybe this whole traveling with him idea was a bad one? Does he regret you being around all the time? Your nose is running, and you need a tissue so you reach in your purse to grab one and realize that you don’t have your phone. “Damn!” you say to the empty seat across from you. You haven’t had an empty seat across from you in over eight months, he’s always there. You put your elbow on the table, close your eyes and rest your chin on your palm. “What the hell are you doing?” you say to your coffee as you stir it.

Meanwhile, Harry is completely distracted during the second sound check, he needs it to go smoothly and it seems everything that could go wrong, is. He leans his head back and sends a fuck you to the universe. Taking a deep breath he sees security come down the aisle.

“Find her?” he questions abruptly interrupting them before they’ve had a chance to say a word.

“No, but we’re searching,” one of them says holding his hands up in surrender. “Any idea why should would leave without her phone?” The taller of the two asks.

“Cause ‘m a fuckin’ dumbass is why!”

They look at each other with a knowing look and don’t press the issue.

“I’ve gotta go…,” he starts to say knowing it’s impossible. “FUCK!” he says throwing his head back. Everyone goes silent. He looks around and apologizes, then looks at his security, bottom lip quivering and stammers, “ya have ta find her, I…I…I can’t do this tonigh’ withou’ knowin’ she’s safe, please, I’m begging ya.”

His phone rings. He looks at the screen and sighs. “No’ a good time Jeffery.”

“You have to go on tonight, H. We can’t cancel.”

He sighs. “Don’ wan’ ta. Bu’ I can’t go on if she’s no’ here.” His voice catches, finally breaking down and crying. “I have ta find her.”

“They’ll find her, H or she’ll come back. She just needs a break. I’m sure that’s all it is.”

He sniffles and wipes his eyes. “I gotta go.”

You finish your coffee and muffin and grab your trash. You’d like to keep walking and walk all the way back to London to a house that’s not even yours. This was a mistake, you think as you throw your trash in the bin and sigh. No choice but to go back and pack your bags. When you’re back in London, you can figure out what to do next. You’ll have to tell Glenne that this deal isn’t working out. There’s no way you’ll be done on time. The tears are still sliding down your cheeks. How could he have said that to me? You think. You’re mad but also very hurt. You wipe your face as the venue comes into view and you can see fans already lined up. You just pass the tour buses when two security guards converge on you. “Come with us,” one of them says, taking your elbow. “We’ve got her,” the other one speaks into his walkie talkie. If you weren’t so sad, you’d be furious. You try and jerk your elbow out of his grip, but he’s holding you firmly.

You finally reach Harry’s dressing room and one of them bangs on the door. It opens and Harry grabs you and pulls you in for a bone crushing hug, but you don’t hug him back. “Thank you,” he says, shaking both of their hands. He shuts the door and you push on his chest until he lets go. You go to where your bags are and start packing.

“What’re ya doing?”

“I’m packing.”

His lips are in a hard line. "Ya put yourself in danger, ya scared the...fuck, love. Left ya phone.”

You sigh, crossing your arms. “That was a mistake. What you said WAS NOT.”

"I know an’ ‘m s’ fuckin' sorry, dinna mean it tha’ way..."

You hmph. "Well, maybe we're spending too much time together. Coming on the road…maybe it was a mistake.”

"Tha's bullshit an' ya know it is... don' ya need me as much as I need you?!”

“I do need you, but I need to work. I can’t just do nothing, and I have actual deadlines now.”

“I know…’m sorry. Said ‘m sorry an’ I am. I…don’…I should take it mo’ seriously.” He comes to stand in front of you, hands rubbing down your crossed arms. “I’ll do better. Bu’ ya can’ jus’ leave without’ anyone knowin’ where ya are.”

“Look,” you say holding your hands up, “I forgot my phone, I wasn’t exactly thinking about it at the time…” you look down at your feet, “to be honest, I just wanted to get away from you, from everything at the moment.”

Tears roll down his face and his chin quivers, “If somethin’ had happened…”

You interrupt, “but it didn’t and now you need to go do this show, do it for me, okay? Please don’t disappoint those lovely people who worked so hard to be able to see you.”

“Wha’ are ya gonna do during…” he says brows furrowed and his teary eyes searching yours.

“I’m gonna go back to the hotel, I need ta think…” you say fidgeting with your shirt tail.

He’s pleading, “Jesus, baby, please…I’m s’fuckin’ sorry.”

“I know, please just respect that I need to think,” you say tears rolling down your face.

He reaches for you, and you lean forward to kiss his cheek, “I love you, H. I’ll see you tonight, alright?”

“Please…,” he stutters, “I. Love. You.”

A knock at the door sounds to let him know that the opening act is going on stage for soundcheck.

“Go be a rockstar,” you say palm to his face and tears rolling down your cheeks and walk past him and out the door to find someone to drive you back to the hotel.

******5 hours later*******

Harry had put on a spectacular show, despite feeling utterly brokenhearted inside. The band and those he worked with closely could tell he was off, but not a single fan left the venue with anything less than his very best performance, after all he was doing it for his girl, because she asked him to. But now it was his time, he needed to get back to you and now. He rushes through a shower at the venue and throws on joggers and hoodie. He pulls the hoodie over his head trying to find a quiet peacefulness during the impossibly long car ride back to the hotel. His hands literally itch to get there, desperate to see you.

He softly opens one of the double doors to the suite and turns to gently shut and lock it behind him. His heart drops at the sight of your bags packed by the door. He sighs as he walks through the dark rooms until he gets to the bedroom. He gently opens the door in case you were asleep, although he’s hoping that you stayed up to talk this through. You were mad and hurt and understandably so, but didn’t he at least deserve a second chance? But maybe that was just his own narcissism talking. The room is dark, and he can see you in the bed facing away from him. He can feel his throat close up at the thought of you leaving. He sighs and takes off his clothes and slips in the bed next to you, curling around you, pressing kisses to your shoulder. You stir and roll over. You can just see each other in the dim light coming in from the floor to ceiling windows.

“Hi. How was the concert?”

“It was off. I hope no one noticed. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ abou’ ya.”

“Couldn’t stop thinking about you either.”

“Saw ya bags by the door. Ya still leavin’?”

You sigh. “I don’t know. I go back and forth. Maybe I should,” you say, fingers tracing his collarbones, eyes not meeting his.

He sighs. “I don’ wan’ ya ta go, bu’ I won’ stop ya if ya need ta either.”

Your eyes flick back up to his. “I…don’t wanna be in the way and now I feel like I am.”

“Jesus, baby, I dinna mean it like tha’. I was jus’ kiddin’. I was jus’ missin’ ya. It was stupid an’ ‘m sorry. Ya not in the way. Never in the way. I wan’ ya here…need ya here.” His hand moves to your face, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Please don’ go. Don’ leave me. I love ya s’much.”

You can feel the tears falling. “I love you too. I…you hurt me. The thing I worried about most and you said it out loud.”

He closes his eyes. “I know an’ ‘m sorry. I dinna mean it. I dinna know ya felt tha’ way. Shit, ‘m s’sorry baby, please believe me.”

You sigh. “You mean that?”

“O’course! I begged ya ta come wi’ me an’ now I’m beggin’ ya ta stay. Please don’ leave me,” he says, tears falling down his cheeks.

“C’mere.” You move to wrap your arms around him, and he hugs you to him tightly.

“I love you. I’ll stay. I don’t want to be without you either. I need time to do my podcasts and I need you to understand that.”

He squeezes you tighter. “You’re right. Give ya as much time as ya need, promise.”

You pull back and press your lips to his. He kisses you back, hard. He kisses you until you’re both breathless. “Let’s get some rest, ok?”

“Ok.”

You roll over and he snuggles up against you.

He tightens his arms around you, he fucked up and hurt you. Although deep down he knows it probably won’t be the last time, he hopes to Christ it is. He feels your body hiccup and whimper as you drift off, it’s like your body is trying to release the sorrow. He kisses your shoulder, holding his mouth tight to your skin willing his love to seep into you to heal the broken spaces.

When he feels your breathing even out, he too finally succumbs to a fitful sleep.

A couple of hours later he wakes with a sharp ache in his chest and a desperate need only you can fulfill. You’d snuggled into him like every other night; your little spoon to his big one. His hand is on the bare skin of your tummy under your tank top. You usually sleep naked, but with things happening the way they had, you went to bed in a tank and sleep shorts. Apparently in his sleep, his hand sought your soft skin and had found its way underneath. He manages to get the other arm under your head and he can feel your warm breath on the inside of his elbow where you rest. Fuck, you smell good, your hair, your skin…you smell like home to him. The home you made together that was built on love. He could’ve lost it all and he can’t bear that. He swallows hard and inhales a gulp of air, his emotions are getting the best of him and he needs you to understand…needs you to know how fuckin’ sorry he is…how much he regrets being thoughtless…He needs you to know he loves you with every fiber of his being. He needs to feel your body, he needs your taste on his tongue and your skin on his lips. A single tear rolls out of his eye and down to his ear, it’s too much and he can’t wait. He kisses your neck just below your ear and gently rubs circles on your tummy before pulling his hand out to pull the strap of your tank down your shoulder so he can kiss there. The kisses turn into licks and open-mouthed kisses where he sucks the surface of your skin. He feels you stir slightly and your whimper causes him to squeeze his eyes shut tight, he wants you to whimper with his touch again and not with the memories of sorrow.

“I love ya, baby,” he presses his forehead to the side of your head and whispers it over and over and over. He feels your breathing change and he can tell you’re awake, “Ya my best friend, my favorite person, my life, my love, my everything, my lover, please don’t ever leave me, please, forgive me, please know how sorry I am….”

Your hand finds his and squeezes.

“Need ya so bad.”

“Kiss me Harry,” you say turning your head to get access to his mouth.

He places his free palm on the side of your head and tenderly kisses your lips. He pulls back slightly and feels the tear drop onto the inside of his forearm; you’d shed too many tears because of him and he’s had all he can take.

“Baby, please…” is all he can get out before you turn onto your back needing better access to him.

“I love you Harry, god, I love you so much, I don’t want to argue, I don’t want to be in your way…”

He stops you with a deep kiss. “Don’ talk like tha’ anymore, please, let me love ya…please,” he begs.

You reach down and pull your tank top over your head and he helps you get it off.

“Please, take it all off, please, baby…” he says in a rush.

Although dark in the room, he can feel you nod your head. He reaches down to help you push your panties and sleep shorts off. You’re both in a hurry, frantic, your breath a mess of kisses and moans.

“’m s’sorry…s’sorry…,” he keeps saying over and over. His hands trace every line and curve on your body. They’re warm and sure as he grips every place he can and moves his body over yours.

You spread your legs to form a cradle for him to lay in. Your hands grab fists full of his hair, kissing and moaning, as he licks and sucks his way around your skin, to your nipples. There, he pulls them into his mouth, growling to get as much of your breast in his mouth as he can. “Fuckin’ love ya s’much,” he whimpers against your skin. He trails his lips down your tummy and bites at the skin on your hips. “Are ya wet fo’ me yet, love?” he asks against your hip bone. “Please tell me ya wan’ me…please say it.”

Breathing rapidly, “Harry, hahhh…harry, I want you, I want you, I need you,” you whisper into the darkness.

He kisses back up to your face and you shiver. He pulls the duvet up over his back covering you both, “Tha’ better? Want ya ta be warm.” He says brushing the hair on the sides of your head.

You nod your head and pull your knees up high and tight on his side.

“Baby, can ya let me inside ya?” he asks lips pressed against yours.

“Please, Harry, come inside me, I’m desperate to feel you,” you say tenderly.

He reaches down and slides the head of his cock though your wetness and lines it up with your entrance. He gently pushes in and you gasp and he groans. He pushes so deep your breath catches as he bottoms out.

“You’re so deep,” you whisper in his ear as you squeeze a fistful of his hair.

“I need to be deeper,” he responds, “want more of ya, want all of ya, always.”

“I’m here, Harry, I’m here…” you breathe in his ear.

“Don’t stop saying it, love, don’t stop saying it…” he whimpers.

“I’m here, I’m right here and you’re here inside me, I’m not going anywhere, I’m not, I swear,” you promise.

He starts to move, rocking in and out of your body, “Am I makin’ it feel good, love? Do ya feel me?”

“Yessss Harry, I feel you, please don’t stop, take me away from this, take us there, I need to feel you cum inside me, please,” you beg on a murmur.

“Hold my hands, baby,” he demands and smooths his hands up your arms where he intertwines his fingers and pulls them in close.

He picks up the pace, fucking into you like his only goal in life is to make you feel him in your soul.

“I love ya, I love ya…I need ya ta cum, baby, I need ta hear ya cum,” he says, “put your legs around me an’ take me deep… yeah, jus’ like tha’…feel good?” he asks.

“So good Harry, Oh, slow down, I’m there, I’m gonna fall, but I want you with me,” you say desperately. “Cum with me Harry…”

“I’m ready, let’s go together, ready…” He thrust three more times and you’re both gone. Fingers digging into each other’s hands and breaths mingled as he exhales deeply and you inhale at the same time, breathing each other in. Exchanging orgasms.

He drops his head to your neck as he tries to catch his breath. You feel like you can breathe again and you let out a long breath and just let the hurt leave your mind. It was an off-the-cuff remark…he didn’t know you felt that deep down. He’s said he’s sorry and you choose to forgive him. It was your first fight, and you were glad it was over. You don’t think it’ll be your last, but you’re glad that you were strong enough to talk it out.

He kisses your neck and just breathes the smell of you in.

“I love ya. Hope ya know tha’.”

You smile and using your hands you pull his head up so you can meet his eyes. “I love you and I do know you love me. I’m ok…we’re ok.”

He leans in to press his lips to yours. “Lemme get ya cleaned up an’ we can sleep s’more.”

“Ok.”

He goes to get a warm washcloth and gently cleans you and then crawls in next to you. He snuggles into your back and presses kisses to your shoulders as your hand squeezes his until you both fall asleep.

Sometime during the night, Harry had shifted to his tummy, and you were lying half on top of his back with your arm around his waist and your leg draped between his. His shoulder is warm beneath your cheek as your eyes flutter open. You roll your face to place your lips on his skin, holding them there you close your eyes again and inhale deeply. God, he smells so good. It’s been a rough twenty-four hours. You need this man like you need your next breath and so much about that was terrifying, but not as much as it was exhilarating and, well, fulfilling…you felt a completeness, like your soul had found what it longed for.

The room was dark, but you knew it was morning. You place a series of light kisses on his shoulder, and he stirs, but not enough to wake up. He was accustomed to getting as much sleep as possible while touring and after being awake in the middle of the night to make love, you wanted him to rest a little longer. You, on the other hand, were going to be late on your deadline if you didn’t get up and get some work done. You place one last kiss to his shoulder and tenderly untangle yourself from his warmth and crawl out of bed. He turns his head on the pillow and lets out a soft snore. His tanned skin on the white sheets make you long to snuggle back in, but you know you need to get to work. You visit the restroom, and run through your morning routine quickly opting to shower later because you don’t want to take a chance you’ll wake him with running water. You slip on his hoodie and joggers from last night smiling to yourself knowing he’ll tease you later for stealing his clothes and pad barefoot into the living room of the suite. You have paperwork spread everywhere from where you trying to do some work last night, but it was no use, you couldn't focus.

You sit on the floor and put your glasses on to attempt to organize the documents you had to review. You pick up a clipped bundle of police reports with witness statements on them. You were set to interview a victim’s family member and really wanted to have them review the statements before you went live on the podcast which means you need a duplicate copy of this five-page statement. You look at your phone and realized you’re once again pressed for time. You could run down to grab a copy at the business center in less than five minutes. You drop your phone and pile some other papers on top of it looking for the last page of the statement, clipping the papers together and stand up to step inside your Vans. You slip out the hotel door and hold the door so it wouldn’t slam, but as soon as the door clicks shut you realize you forgot your phone. “It’ll only take a second,” you say reasoning with the door. Turning to head to the elevator, you pull the hood up on Harry’s hoodie. Oh wow, it smells like his shampoo…damn, you love this man so much.

In the business center you set the paperwork on the feeder and wait for the machine to suck it in and make your copies. Everything was going fine, but on page three, the feeder pulls the paper in wonky and you hear the crunch of it crumble in the machine. “Shit!” you whisper shout. “Stupid machine!” you say and turn to head to the front desk for some assistance.

Upstairs, Harry, has stirred and with closed eyes was searching through the duvet for you. His hands return an empty search and he shoots up straight in the bed. Panic is the first emotion he feels, heart pounding. Did you change your mind?! He gets up looking for his joggers and can’t find them. He gives up and heads into the living room. No sign of you, but papers were strung everywhere. He walks quickly to the door and sees your bags stacked neatly. Ok, calm down, he tells himself. He goes back to the bedroom and picks up his phone, hoping for a text. Nothing! He grits his teeth. He calls your phone and after several rings, it goes to voicemail. He wanders back into the living room and tries calling you again and hears a buzzing sound. After carefully lifting a stack of papers, he finds your phone. He throws his phone to the couch and watches as it bounces off to the floor. He goes to find a pair of joggers and sits down on the couch, trying to calm his temper. He pounds his fists down on his knees and takes a deep breath, welcoming the pain in his hands and knees.

He doesn’t know how much time has passed but his head jerks up when he hears the keycard on the door ping. He runs to the door and yanks it open and pulls you to him, crushing your papers between you. He pulls back and grabs your face, kissing you hard. “Scared ‘m ta death…why didn’t ya take ya phone?”

You stammer. “I forgot it and I thought I could get back in a few minutes,” you say, feeling bad. “I’m sorry baby. I really thought I’d be back before you woke up.” You kiss him and make to walk back to your makeshift office. He grabs your hand and pulls you down to the couch next to him and sighs. “Listen, we gotta talk. Ya can get mad a’ me all ya wan’, bu’ ya can’t run off. It’s no’ safe an’ it’s no’ how I wan’ things ta be between us. An’ ya hafta take ya phone. If I hafta glue it ta ya damn hand, I will.”

You look down. “You’re right and I’m sorry. It’ll never happen again. I should probably get some work done,” you say pressing a kiss to his lips.

His eyes burn into yours. “I don’ think ya understand how serious I am abou’ this. Wha’ am I gonna hafta do ta make ya understand?”

“I’m sorry baby. I’ll do better, promise.”

“‘S not good enough. Know ya have work ta do bu’ it’s gonna hafta wait.”

Your eyes go wide. “H, you know this can’t wait.”

“It can an’ it will. Go to the bedroom, take off your clothes and wait for me.”

Your mouth opens and then closes. His eyes burn holes into yours and you know there’s no arguing with him. “Ok,” you say softly and leave the room.

He sits there for a minute trying to reel in his thoughts and emotions. He’s not angry with you, but he’s frustrated with your inability to understand how helpless he feels when he doesn’t know where you are, and he can’t get in touch with you. It’s not like he can just walk around looking for you; what he does for a living ties his hands in situations like this. Well, it’s time for you to understand this. He stands and walks over the table by the window where he left his black Gucci bag. Opening the bag he pulls out four lengths of matching pink scarves. He also pulls out the same vibrator you bought in Paris for your boudoir photo session. It’s time you learned from experience what it feels like to be helpless and needy. He tucks the vibe in the waistband of his joggers, walks to the bedroom door, and leans his shoulder on the door frame, running the scarves through his hands. He looks up to see you sitting on the edge of the bed with your legs crossed looking at your nails.

You drop your hand and your mouth drops open when you look up and see him standing there. His stare is fierce, and the set of his jaw conveys his determination. He’s a perfect study of a man attempting to control a situation where he feels little control. You should’ve gone back in for your phone, you were thoughtless and took a chance that wasn’t worth taking.

“I’m sorry, Harry, I’m so very sorry, I should’ve remembered my phone,” you plead again.

“I know ya are, love. An’ I forgive ya. But, baby, I’m jus’ not sure ya understand,” he says fidgeting with the tail of one of the scarves.

He looks up and holds you in his stare, “Listen ta me, I can’ ‘ave ya jus’ wanderin’ round…lose ma god damned mind. I can’ jus’ come find ya wi’out a mob, an’ I know ‘s no’ fair…bu’ I jus’ need ya safe.”

You stand up and awkwardly put your hands to your sides and shift your weight side to side. “Harry…” is all you can manage as he starts to walk toward you.

“Tell me, swee’heart, d’ya remember your colors?” he whispers standing close. “If ya need me to stop, wha’ color d’ya say?”

“Red,” you answer then gulp and whisper, “Umm… are you mad at me?”

He reaches up with one hand and tucks your hair behind your ear, “No, babe, I jus’ need ta make a point ya can remember.”

You smile and he smiles back at you leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “Kiss me, H,” you ask attempting to put your arms around his neck.

“Not yet, darlin’, ya gon’ ‘ave ta wait, jus’ like ya did ta me. Now, crawl up on the bed fo’ me.” He demands.

You turn to crawl on the tall bed. Leaning on your hands, you raise one knee to finish your crawl when he smacks you on the bum. “Ah!” You turn to look at him.

He cocks his head to one side, “No. More. Running. No. More. Forgetting. Your. Phone. D’ya understand me.”

“Yes, Harry, I understand,” you reply softly. You situate yourself in the middle of the bed on your back and bring your fingers to your mouth and begin to bite on the ends of them.

He furrows his brows and asks. “Ya no’ scared are ya?”

“No. I know you’d never hurt me,” you state confidently.

He smiles, “No, never.”

He looks at your body thoughtfully then tosses two of the scarves to the floor. “Bend ya knees an’ spread ya legs, please.” And you do as he asks. He adjusts himself through his joggers.

“Take ‘em off, Harry,” you say looking at the obvious bulge he’s sporting.

He cocks his head to one side, “I don’ think so, ya no’ callin’ the shots here, love.”

You huff, “But you’ll be so much more comfortable,” you reason.

“Yeah, seems like tha’ would make sense doesn’t it, but ‘m just no’ gon’ do wha’ ya ask of me even if it makes sense.” He says raising his eyebrows to make the point.

“Ok, I get it!” you say rolling your eyes.

“Don’t be rude, love, it doesn't suit ya… frustrated?” he asks with a smirk.

“Nope, not even a little,” you say defiantly.

“Careful, babe, I‘d be very careful…” he warns. “Grab ya ankles, baby,” he commands.

You grab your ankles and he uses one scarf to tie your wrist to your ankles, tightly.

You try to straighten your leg and it pulls on your arm.

He frowns, “Stop squirmin’, love.”

He walks around to the other side of the bed and does the same to the other ankle and wrist, then stands back and looks at his handywork. His stare causes a fresh gush of wetness to coat your sex.

He pulls out the vibrator and puts it next to your side and pushes his joggers down, his very hard cock popping out and pointing straight out.

Your mouth waters and you pull one hand toward him. You whimper and wiggle your back then raise your head and shoulders, “Come here Harry,” you mutter.

He shakes his head, “’m fine right ‘ere.”

“But I wanna…,” you whimper.

He closes his eyes and leans his head back, “wanna what, baby, wha’ d’ya wan’?”

“I don’t know, I just want you over here, you’re too far away…” you whimper with a shaky voice. Your hips buck up and Harry’s eyes are glued to your bare pussy.

He tsks, “’s frustrating, right…? When you jus’ can’ get to wha’ ya want.”

You close your eyes. You know he’s trying to make a point and you know you messed up this morning. You can imagine the panic he must’ve felt when you weren’t here when he woke up and you do know he can’t just come looking for you. “You made your point, Harry. I get it. It won’t happen again.”

He moves to hover over you. Mouth inches from yours, his cock presses to your bare pussy. “I know ya feel like ya get it, bu’ I need ya ta feel it s’ya remember it. I’m serious when I say this can’t happen again. Ya can’t impact my set or my emotions like tha’ again.” His fingers trail down your neck to your nipple and circle it lightly. “An’ I need to show ya wha’ it feels like for me so I know ya know.”

You swallow. You’re not scared, exactly. You know he’d never hurt you, but you’ve never seen this kind of intensity from him before and it’s putting you on edge. Truthfully, you wish he’d just get started. Normally you enjoy the anticipation, but this is different from the other times. You puff out a breath. “Ok, I…show me what it’s like for you. I’m ready.”

Harry smiles softly. “Good girl.” He picks up a scarf and places it over your eyes. “Lift ya head.” You do and he ties it behind your head. He moves from on top of you and you feel the bed shift and the buzz of your vibrator fills the air.

You let out a breath.

He trails the vibrator over your nipples and you moan. “Ya see, when ya go off like tha’ an’ I don’ know where ya are, I’m blind.” He trails it lower over your stomach. “Feels like this. I’m bound and blindfolded. Don’ know wha’s gonna happen next…” He sucks the toy into his mouth to get it wet and then trails it down your slit.

You whimper.

He moves it up and down a few times and then slowly pushes it inside you.

You gasp. “Fuck!”

He slowly moves it in and out. You squirm but can’t really move.

“Frustrating innit? Not bein’ able ta move. Tha’s wha’ it feels like fo’ me. I’m bound an’ can’t leave ta find ya.”

“Ohhh…”

He moves the toy faster and he can tell you’re getting close. Then he turns the vibrations off.

You cry out frustrated.

“Ya close?”

You nod.

“Frustrating innit? Ta have something s’close an’ then taken from ya?”

You huff out a breath. You can still feel it inside you. If you could just move a little…

You feel the bed shift and then you feel him kiss down the side of your neck, hands cupping your breasts and then fingers pulling hard on your nipples.

“Ahhhh! Mmmm…”

“It hurts a little but feels good, righ’?”

“Yes!”

You feel the bed shift again and then nothing…

“Harry?” No answer. You try and calm your mind, but your heart is pounding and you’re still pulsing from your ruined orgasm. You feel the cool air over your skin, and it turns you on even more. You’re leaking around the toy, and you just want him to come back and finish what he started.

“Ok, Harry, please…” you wiggle your hips and try to close your legs but your arms pull in the process. You’re aching for release, but that’s just your body. What’s really hurts right now is the loss of him, his touch, his voice, his warmth and comfort. Your throat catches, “H…Haarry…” you softly mutter. No answer. The vulnerability is beginning to seep and settle. “Harry! Are you still in here?”

You lick your lips and then suck them into your mouth, chin quivering. You’re wide open, he holds your heart, your emotions in his hand and he’s gone. “Harry, I’m calling for you, don’t you hear me?”

He stands in the doorway, heart racing. He knows you’ve had enough and fuck, if he can take any more of this. “I’m right here, baby.”

You hiccup and tears leak out of your eyes. “Please…”

He moves to the bed and leans over to kiss your knee; you shiver.

“I’m here, I’m here…” he smooths his hand up your tummy and sternum up to your cheek and he removes the scarf over your eyes.

“I need you, please kiss me,” you say raising your head up.

“I’m here, relax, sweetheart,” then he’s kissing your lips, your cheeks and jaw.

“I can’t relax when I can’t feel you,” you whisper as he kisses down your neck and chest.

His hand holds your breast steady as he sucks your nipple in to his mouth, “Mmm…,” you can feel the vibrations drive straight to your core and your body clamps down on the toy. He pops off and looks up into your eyes searching for your responsiveness. Holding your stare, he reaches down and flips the toy on to a low setting.

You close your eyes and arch your back digging your head into the pillow. Your mouth opens on a low-pitched moan.

“Feel good?” he asks.

“Relief…” you trail off from deep in your throat.

He smiles, “Like finally finding ya, feels like relief…d’ya understand, yeah?”

“Harry, I’m so sorry,” you say understanding written all over your face. “I need you.”

“An’ I need ya ta cum fo’ me first,” he says reaching down to push and pull the toy in and out of you.

Carefully watching your face he asks, “’s it as good as when ya did it to yourself?”

Everything is becoming clearer to you “Better, it’s better because you’re here, everything’s better when you’re here.”

He smiles, he doesn’t have to tell you that he understands that feeling after last night’s concert, because he knows you’re getting it.

He starts to circle the toy and he’s hitting your spot just right on every round. You can’t take anymore, the orgasm is on you quick and hard. “Haaahh..Ha..Harrrry, Mmmmgah!”

“Can feel ya clamp down on it…don’t stop, love,” he encourages.

The pulsing is still running through your body when he leans over propped on one elbow and he reaches down, turns the toy off and gently pulls it from your body. “So fuckin’ hot…” he mutters paying close attention to the way the toy pulls and the wetness on it.

He tosses it to the side, but can’t resist running his fingers through your slit. “Still so wet,” he comments.

You nod your head eyes meeting his, “Please make love to me?” you plead.

He starts to take the scarves off, “No. Leave them,” you say shyly.

He raises his eyebrows, “Sure?”

You nod your head and he smirks.

He uses his one hand to guide himself to your entrance, pushes part of the way in, before settling his elbows on either side of your face and slowly pushing the rest of the way in.

You raise your head up to kiss him… “Mmmmm…”

He kisses you back and then you feel his tongue at the seam of your lips and you let him in. On one hand you’re dying to touch him but on the other hand, you want to feel him inside you when you’re bound like this. His tongue caresses yours and you feel him moan into your mouth. There’s something so sexy about kissing him breathless when he’s inside you. You feel so…full - of him and love.

“Jesus…ya s’hot like this baby,” he says, as he starts moving.

“Mmmm…” is all you can say.

He grinds into you on his thrust in and you shriek his name, mouth open and gasping.

“Righ’ there?” He asks, as he does it again.

You nod frantically. “Ohhh…don’t stop! I’m - oh god, that’s so good…mmmm…”

He can tell you’re blissed out and he knows you’re close. He leans down by your ear, “I love ya an’ ‘m gonna make ya cum so fucking hard. Ya deserve it. Did s’good fo’ me.”

You’re panting and chanting as he keeps hitting his spot. You’re struggling in your ties and then he thrusts again and your back arches, head thrown back and a loud moan leaves your mouth. Everything goes white and you can feel your heartbeat in your ears.

“Fuck! Can hardly move ya squeezing me s’tight.”

You fall back onto the mattress panting and he starts moving faster chasing his own release.

You’re still so sensitive. You can feel another orgasm. “Gonna cum. Gonna cum again!”

Harry drops his forehead to yours. “Jesus, cum with me love. Come on! Wanna feel it!”

His hand moves to your throat and then you’re cumming around him again and he lets out an almighty groan, body stilling as he cums.

“Harry, untie me, please, wanna touch you,” you whine panting rapidly

He leans over on one elbow to untie and pull one scarf loose, you immediately stretch your leg out straight. He switches to the other side and unties the other ankle and wrist. You wrap your arms and legs around him feeling his back rise and fall as he breathes deeply. You run your fingernails up and down his back trying to soothe him.

He raises his head from your neck and rests his forehead on yours, “Babe how’s your legs, ya Ok?”

“I’m great, H. But I need to say something to you,” you say holding his cheeks.

“Ok,” he answers.

“I’m so sorry for everything over the last day, I’m sorry I didn’t have my phone and made you worry, I won’t do that again, I don’t want you to worry about me in that way, and I understand…how terrible that must have been,” you’re searching for a way to convey just how sorry you are.

“I know, sweetheart, I know…I love ya,” he says kissing your lips softly.

You smile at him and he returns the smile. “Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“I know you were making a point… and believe me I got it… but there were parts of that… that…” you stammer.

He smirks, “Wha’…tha’ were hot?”

You nod, his head moving with your nod.

He chuckles, “Wanna revisit them sometime?”

“Yeah, I mean…only if you wanna…?” you say quietly.

He presses his lips to yours, “Baby, you’re s’perfect fo’ me…s’perfect…”

“I think maybe we’re perfect for each other.”

#the fight #original content #harry smut #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #friends to lovers

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obeetlebeetle · 2 years

Note

wait ok but what’s on ur kpruevvy playlist bc i’ve been compiling a wuvvy playlist and i wanna know what else i should put on there 👀

well! ok, so the thing abt the wuvvy songs on that playlist is that they're kinda tucked into hob and rue songs -- trying to get at the way her feelings for rue have gone unspoken but are so clearly the undercurrent of the kprue relationship. if i was doing a ruevvy playlist it would be different, and if i was doing a wuvvy playlist it would be way different, just based on like, what of her i would want to think abou while listening. all that said i DO have wuvvy recs if u want them! probably too many but oh well.

A Better Deal by Merival

Party Police by Alvvays, Party's Over by Ryan Beatty, Close to You by Dayglow

Full Control by Snail Mail, Control Me by Majical Cloudz, You've Got Me by The Greeting Committee, I Would Do Anything For You by Foster the People, I Think You're Alright by Jay Som

Shut Up Kiss Me by Angel Olsen, Then OK by Julia Nunes, Washing Machine Heart by Mitski, Want Me by Baby Queen

First Love / Late Spring by Mitski, Don't Let It Get To You by Rostam

extras:

#the issue is i already have a few playlists that hit on what's wrong with wuvvy #so im pulling from a very deep well #sorryyyyy #wow what a good ask for this our last wuvvy wednesday #wuvvyposting

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thunder-jolt · 2 years

Conversation

Shounen Jump Power Linkage: The Go Nagai Linkers in either nutshell, or just repeating some vines.

Qiao: I just had a burst of energy and I think it's my body's last "hooray" before it completely shuts down...

====

Rosita: They're right there.

Mirai: What the fuck is this?

Rosita: Watch your profanity...

Mirai: (replaces Mirai's voice for Ryo's dub voice from the 80s Devilman dub) I don't give a shit.

====

Rosita: *walking* *turns her head* Hazzzt!

One of Hyeong's Yokai (in this case; a Kappa): *sitting on a stack of boxes*

Qiao: Is- Is it real?

====

Hyeong: *to Mirai, in an argument* WHAT THE FUCK IS UP, MIRAI?! NO, SERIOUSLY, WHAT THE FUCK, DUDE!? STEP THE FUCK UP, MIRAI!

====

Sayaka: How do I start this darned thng?

*Devilman No Uta*

Mirai: Man Sayaka, I've been having a bad day- Oh my god, it's our song! IT'S OUR SONG!

Sayaka: *screeches demonically*

====

Rosita: Hyeong, get out of the tank.

Hyeong: You ain't my mummy.

Rosita: Get out of the fricking tank, I am your mum. (Mum-figure I may add.)

Hyeong: You ain't my mum.

Rosita: I'm your mum, get out of the ta-

Hyeong: I'M IN A TANK, AND YOU AIN'T!

(this continues before Mirai decides to take the "ordering people out of things" business)

====

Hyeong: *narrating, as a tanuki walks in* You got this, Tanny, make him wait for it... Boom.

====

Sayaka: Mother-trucker, dude! That hurt like a buttcheek on a stick.

Qiao: Watch your profanity.

====

Qiao: Rose, they following me, Rose! THEY'RE FOLLOWING ME!

Rosita: OH, OH WHO'S FOLLOWING YOU?!

Qiao: *points to Hyeong's moth yokai* The moths!

Rosita: THE MOTHS?!

====

Hyeong: Woah- WOAH! HAHA! HURRICANE KATRINA! More like Hurricane Tortilla~

====

Mirai: *beating up a Despairus (Despairiuses is plural, right?)* HATE THIS THIS DAMN ASS BITCH DESPAIR! FUCK THEM! *continues beating it up*

====

Mirai: *opens up gift, to see it's an empty book* It's an empty book. Thanks...

====

Hyeong: *seeing Sayaka's demon form, amazed* HELL FUCKIN' YEEEAAAAAAAH!

====

Hyeong: OH MY GAAAAAAAAWD! A TORNADO IS FORMIN'! BYE!

Hyeong's Yokai: *demonic screeching* AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

Hyeong: But we're going shopping!

Hyeong and her Yokai: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

====

Qiao: When I say "slavery", you all say "sorry", SLAVERY!

His classmates: Sorry.

Qiao: *internally* It's okay.

====

Mirai: *slides across the ice to the reader/self-insert* Good evening.

====

Hyeong: I have an idea, imagine this but-

Rosita: WHAT THE FUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCK!

Hyeong: OH MY GAWD! A SNAKE!

The rest of the Go Nagai Linkers: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!

====

Hyeong: Back at it again at Krispy Kreme. *does backflip, breaks sign*

====

Rosita: Who wants to get crazy for NEW YEARS!?

The Linkers: YEEAAAAAAAAAAH!

Sayaka: *breaks glass bowl full of ornaments* YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

====

Rosita: Welcome to my kitchen... We have bananas, and avocadoes...

====

Hyeong: The cheese OF TRUTH! *whaps cheese on newpaper* Immigrants cause cancer...

====

Qiao: Toss me my keys.

Sayaka: *throws printer* *printer shatters*

Qiao: I said my keys.

Sayaka: I thought you said printer!

Qiao: Why the fuck would I say printer?

====

Qiao: *narrating about the 80s Devilman chibi* Even the chibis are one of the most dangerous creatures in the world, so I built this cage to keep them secure so there's no possible- *80s Devilman chibi escapes* Oh my god-

====

Mirai: This demon child is definitely on crack right now...

Hyeong: *ball bounces on her head* Yas! *ball bounces on her head again* YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!

====

Sayaka: Look it. Look it! It's frickin' bats! I love Halloween.

====

Hyeong: MIRAI!

Mirai: *stares deeply into someone's soul* *dabs*

Hyeong: OOOOOOOOOHHHHH!

====

Sayaka: Wait, oh yeah, wait a minute, Mr. Postman.

Qiao: Yeeeeeee...

====

Hyeong: Heheh, what're you doing?

Sayaka: Dancing.

Hyeong: There's no music playing.

Sayaka:

====

Hyeong: *about to prank the 80s Devilman chibi* Hey, I shoved that ball down my pants.

80s Devilman chibi: *drops ball in fear*

====

Mirai: We all die, either kill yourself or get killed. *dances* Whatchu gonna do? *dances* Whatchu gonna do?

====

Sayaka: *Akira Fudo through Sayaka* Honestly, I don't remember, I was probably fucked up. Yeah, I was crazy back then... Ehehehehh...

====

Hyeong: Get to Del Taco! They got a new thing called "Fre Sha Vacado" FRE SHA VA-!

====

Meanwhile, the links...

Cutie Honey: Enma-Kun, your speech is so good!

Enma-Kun: OHIDIDN'TEVENREALYTRYTHATMUCH,IT'SJUSTALLIMPROVEAND-

Devilman: OH MY GOD, WHY CAN'T YOU JUST TAKE THE FRICKING COMPLIMENT, AAAAAAAAA-

--- --- --- ---

For @sundove88 and @shonenlinkage

#shounen jump power linkage #shounen jump #jump force #vine #based on vine #devilman #cutie honey #mazinger z #enma-kun #dororon enma-kun #dororon enma-kun meeramera #original character #oc #sundove88 #shonenlinkage

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sonotthedrama · 2 years

Photo

Swyn Task: APPLE WALK PLAY PLAYLIST

Track Listing:

1. Titanium - David Guetta (feat. Sia)

This song was written specifically for Kim, well in my opinion. She has a strong heart and will to stand up for herself and others. She has faced bullies who mocked her crime-fighting methods in the past, but this hasn't stopped her from doing what she enjoys. These lyrics perfectly capture Kim's personality and her refusal to apologise for it.

I am titanium You shout me down, but I won’t fall I am titanium

2. Don’t Stop Believin’ - Journey

Kim listened to this song a lot before moving to Swynlake; she wasn't sure about moving halfway around the world to go to university, but with help from her parents and even her brothers, she knew she could do anything if she didn't give up believing. Plus, she's a Possible, and they can do anything!

Just a small town girl Livin’ in a lonely world She took the midnight train goin’ anywhere

3. Fight Song - Rachel Platten

Kim is afraid that she will never be good enough to live up to her family name; Possible. But she knows deep down that she is good enough, and this song helps to solidify that fact for now. She knows she can accomplish anything she sets her mind to, regardless of what others say, and that is enough for her.

I’ll play my fight song And I don’t really care If nobody else believes ‘Cause I’ve still got a lot of fight left in me

4. Symphony - Clean Bandit (feat. Zara Larsson)

This is a song that Kim loves; the upbeat-ness of it and it’s just a nice song to listen to or dance to.

Simple as that.

I'm sorry if it's all too much (oh-oh) Every day you're here, I'm healing (oh-oh) And I was running out of luck (oh-oh) I never thought I'd find this feeling (oh-oh)

5. Shout Out to My Ex - Little Mix

Kim has had a few ex-boyfriends, and those relationships did not end well; she has moved on from her feelings about those relationships, but she sometimes thinks back and realises that it was for the best that they ended. She actually looks back and laughs, wondering why she gave any of those guys the time of day after how they treated her. She will not tolerate anyone in her next relationship treating her with anything less than respect and kindness.

Shout out to my ex, you're really quite the man You made my heart break and that made me who I am Here's to my ex, hey, look at me now Well, I, I'm all the way up, I swear you'll never bring me down

6. Walking on Sunshine - Katrina & The Waves

This is a song that Kim will play if she feels like dancing spontaneously in her dorm room, regardless of what anyone says if they happen to walk in on her. She'll also play it if she's in a good mood or wants to be in a good mood and forget about her problems for a while.

I'm walking on sunshine, wooah I'm walking on sunshine, woooah I'm walking on sunshine, woooah And don't it feel good!

7. Break My Heart - Dua Lipa

This song reminds Kim of the moments before a relationship begins; the feelings you have when you meet someone and instantly connect with them. The feelings that get you so caught up in the moment that you don't stop to think about what's going on and just go with the flow.

But when you said, "Hello" I knew that was the end of it all I should've stayed at home 'Cause now there ain't no letting you go Am I falling in love with the one that could break my heart?

8. Can’t Fight The Moonlight - LeAnn Rimes

Another song that reminds Kim of the moments before a relationship begins; the feelings you have when you meet someone and instantly connect with them. The feelings that get you so caught up in the moment that you don't stop to think about what's going on and just go with the flow.

Underneath the starlight, starlight There's a magical feeling, so right It'll steal your heart tonight

9. Shut Up and Dance - WALK THE MOON

Another song Kim enjoys dancing to unapologetically without fear of being judged, not that she cares what others think. She enjoys the upbeat nature of the song and the fact that it is about living in the moment, which she does not do often but is trying to do more of.

We were victims of the night The chemical, physical, kryptonite Helpless to the bass and the fading light Oh we were bound to get together Bound to get together

10. Issues - Julia Michaels

This song reminds Kim of a relationship she had as a senior in high school; they both had issues, but it was the fact that they both cared about each other that allowed them to work through them. They ended their relationship amicably because they both realised they shouldn't be together, and they have remained friends to this day.

'Cause I got issues But you got 'em too So give 'em all to me And I'll give mine to you

11. I Think We’re Alone Now - Tiffany

This song reminds Kim of when she first realised, she liked girls, and she recalls having her first crush on a girl in high school. She had summoned the courage to express her feelings to the girl, and this song was playing when they snuck away to make out.

Look at the way We gotta hide what we're doin' 'Cause what would they say If they ever knew and so we're

12. Girls Just Want to Have Fun - Cyndi Lauper

Kim adores this song, and who wouldn't? It's the ultimate feminist anthem. It represents women who stand up for their right to do as they please, not to be told what to do, and, most importantly, to have fun.

That's all they really want, some fun When the working day is done You know girls they wanna have fun

#swyntask #//its very long under the cut but i quite liked this task

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here2bbtstrash · 2 years

Text

the spins (explicit)

genre: smutttyyyyyy as hell (with like one angsty conversation about isolation as a trauma response, but said in much vaguer terms lol)

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: you discover a new side to your former lab partner, frat wonder boy jeon jungkook, when you confess to him the one thing no man has ever been able to make you do.

word count: 10.3k

contains: explicit sexual content AKA porn!!!!! alcohol, minor frat house shenanigans, reader is a total bitch but in a highkey relatable way, jungkook is The Only Good Frat Boy, mentions of shitty hookups/sexual dissatisfaction/faked orgasms, an **absurdly** lengthy and gratuitous cunnilingus scene, a lil bit of teasing/begging, spitting, LOUD sex, reader’s first partnered orgasms, also JK has a tongue piercing 👀

A/N: so writing this nearly killed me,,, lmao. i have two inspiration sources that i must credit- one is jai’s @gimmethatagustd INCREDIBLE fic paint me naked, which gave me the final shove i needed to topple over into JK hard stan land (listen he’s 3 years younger than me, i had a complex about it, it’s fine). seriously go give it a read and give her some love, i fully credit her with moving college!JK into my brain where he now lives rent-free.

the other source of inspiration is this insaaaaane imagine audio (WARNING, extremely NSFW and will literally ruin your life!!!!!) that hooked me on the idea that JK would be competitive about eating pussy and….. yep, smack those two things together and ta-da, this porn was born. godspeed and thanks as always for reading 💜

this is now (finally) on AO3!

~*~

You really don’t know why you came to this party. It’s so crowded, bodies pressed together, people screaming to be heard over the noise, or just because they’re white girl wasted. The music is terrible, the floor weirdly sticky, the container of jungle juice in the kitchen extremely suspicious. You opted for tequila instead, the last of which you now drain from the bottom of your red solo cup. The whole place smells like cheap beer, vape smoke, and frat boy cologne.

Yet another Jack Harlow song comes on over the bass-boosted speakers and you roll your eyes. That’s it. Time to go home and actually finish the psych paper you’re putting off.

You shove your way into the kitchen, trying to be the only upstanding citizen in this godforsaken frat house and actually put your trash in a trash can. You spot one in the corner– nearly overflowing, but still good enough, except that a whole circle of Brads and Chads block your path. You do your best to squeeze past them, but because they don’t do anything except live at the gym and snort protein powder, they might as well be a brick wall.

“Excuse me,” you try. Nothing.

“I need to get through,” you say with a gentle push. It’s like talking to a brick wall, too.

“Alright, fuck it.” You roll your eyes and decide to just fucking go for it. You’ve had enough liquor that you won’t feel the pain until tomorrow anyway.

The circle breaks apart in confusion, not a brain cell in sight, as you slam your way through. They part so quickly that your plan works too well, and the excess momentum shoots you forward. You stumble, losing your footing, already cringing because you’re about to faceplant on the nasty floor of this nasty frat house kitchen.

“Hey, whoa!” A voice way too close to your ear for comfort shouts, but then an arm snakes around your waist and saves you from your doom, gripping you tightly. “Careful!”

You glance up, wondering if this guy is going to try to turn the moment into some attempt at flirtation, the world’s worst meet cute, but then you see big round eyes staring back at you with legitimate concern. Oh, fuck. You know those Disney princess eyes. Your stomach drops.

“Whaaaaaaaat!” Holding you in one arm, an unopened 18-rack of beer hoisted up on his shoulder with the other, grinning like a kid in a candy store, is none other than frat wonder boy Jeon Jungkook.

Ah, shit. You knew he was in a frat, of course. He doesn’t shut up about it. But you didn’t know it was this one– well, actually, you don’t even know which frat house you’re in right now. Alpha Beta Omega? They’re all the same to you. You don’t really understand why they have factions anyway instead of all just living together, but that would probably be too gay.

“I didn’t know you partied!” Jungkook is still smiling a smile that takes up his whole face, clearly unable to believe that you’re standing here in his disgusting frat house kitchen in your leather jacket and your combat boots.

You huff a laugh as he slowly unloops his arm from around you, assessing to see if you’re stable enough to stay upright. You shoot him a look as if to say I’m fine, dumbass. Uncoordinated, not intoxicated. There’s a difference.

“I do not party,” you correct him. “Never once in my life have I partied. I merely come to the parties, stand on the edges and observe, get my free alcohol, and then depart. Like I’m doing right now.” You aim your solo cup at the trash can and miss by about a foot.

“You– hang on,” he pauses, turning back to offload the fresh case of beer onto the kitchen counter. There’s a clamor of excitement from the Brads and Chads as they crowd around to slap him on the back, shouting things like “okay, JK!” and “let’s fucking gooooo!”

You have to get out of here, you think to yourself, and then you watch Jungkook bring his tattooed hand up to rip the cardboard front of the case off effortlessly, and that is lowkey kind of hot.

Quiet, you tell your tequila brain. No lusting after frat boys. Not even the one you sat next to for an entire semester in bio lab, the one who was actually way smarter than anticipated and didn’t just use you for an easy A, who genuinely seemed like he cared about the way you answered “How was your weekend?” every time he asked, and who didn’t even say one problematic thing the whole semester.

Just because he’s the exemplary form of his species doesn’t make him not what he is, you remind yourself. Even the best frat boy is still a frat boy.

Jungkook returns as the rest of the bros swarm the counter and proceed to decimate the case of beer. That must have been the reason they were waiting here, at their proverbial watering hole, because they circle up and dissolve back into the party, several of them clapping Jungkook on the back again in thanks as they leave.

You realize he doesn’t have to yell to be heard anymore as he says, “You’re leaving already?”

“Yes, Jungkook,” you sigh. “I have a paper to write.”

He scrunches up his face, knowing he can’t argue with academic excellence. “It’s still early. What if you just have one more drink, and then go? I haven’t even gotten to enjoy the party yet. The pledges severely underestimated how much alcohol it takes to run this place.”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, I’m so terribly sorry that your child servants who literally give you money in exchange for friendship got something wrong.”

The words feel biting as they leave your mouth, and you honestly expect him to protest, but he only shrugs. “Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re right. The whole thing is stupid.” For a moment you wonder how on earth he’s immune, what it is about him that allows him to live in the cradle of toxic masculinity and still be so regular, so good.

“Will you stay?” He asks again. You try to purse your lips to hide your smile, but it doesn’t work, and then he’s smiling too.

“Fine.”

The kid literally fist pumps, and your laugh bubbles up before you can stop it. He gestures broadly to the kitchen counters which are a veritable nightmare of liquor bottles and beer cans. “What’ll it be? Don’t say the jungle juice,” he warns with a laugh.

You look at him like he’s gone entirely insane. “I would never say the jungle juice. Tequila, please.”

Jungkook moves fluidly, as if he’s imitating those ridiculous Las Vegas bartenders who do tricks while they pour your obscenely overpriced drink. He shakes a solo cup off the stack and throws it up, spinning on his heels and catching it in his other hand, and you’re laughing again because he’s such a fucking dork.

He crosses to open the freezer and scoops up some ice in your cup, then pours a healthy amount of tequila in. “And mixer?” He looks back at you over his shoulder.

You pause. “Uh, just ice is good.”

He puts the bottle down and turns to squint at you in disbelief. “You drink straight tequila and you’re telling me you don’t party?”

You falter, a little flustered. “I don’t know. It’s not like I’m drinking it for the taste, you know?”

“Can I show you what you’re missing out on?” He asks, and you don’t know why the question makes you swallow hard. “Seriously.” He picks the bottle of tequila back up, eyeing the brand with distaste. “This stuff is… not great.”

Your instinct is to joke about him slipping something in your drink, but you bite the words back– because first of all, not funny. But you also genuinely don’t think he would ever do something like that, and you don’t want to give off the impression that you do.

“Alright,” you say instead, lifting your hands in surrender.

He opens the fridge door and crouches down, digging around through what you can only imagine is a Costco-sized amount of egg cartons and packages of chicken breasts. Finding what he’s looking for, he pulls away with a carton that’s been Sharpie’d to death, “JK ONLY DO NOT DRINK” on all sides. It’s really every bro for himself out here, you think.

“Grapefruit okay?” Jungkook double-checks, and you give a shrug and a nod. He pours a little, inspects the cup, then adds a splash more. “It’s not too sweet.”

He passes the cup off to you and returns his juice to the fridge, shuts the door, then seems to realize he forgot to make himself a drink and repeats the entire process again, spinning in a full circle which has you hiding your giggle in the rim of your cup. Once he’s made himself a matching drink to yours, he leans against the counter and takes a sip, surveying you.

You mirror him– the drink is admittedly a lot better than straight bottom-shelf, and you like how the sour taste lingers on the back of your tongue.

“Thank you,” you remember to say after a few sips, and he waves it off as if to say it’s no big deal.

“So, why are you here? Observing us in our natural habitat?” He puts on a voice for the last part, in a clear imitation of you, and you smirk. It does sound like something you would say.

“I’m an agent of chaos,” you say and he gives you a look like he’s waiting for the real answer. You choose that moment to take a long swallow of your drink, buying time. He continues to wait patiently, so you finally just shrug and make a face. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to do my paper. I saw a thing for it on insta. And I was tired of rotting away in my dorm room.”

He nods thoughtfully. “I tried inviting you to stuff when we were lab partners.” You wonder if the tequila is making you imagine that he sounds a little hurt. “You never seemed into it.”

At that, you laugh, because he’s being kind. Jungkook did invite you regularly to whatever mixers or ragers his frat was planning, and every time you would tell him no, directly to his face, like the bitch that you are. You eventually started trying to come up with as many creative ways to phrase it as you could: no, nope, never, not in a million years, when hell freezes over. He took them all like a champ, and that was one of the first things you remember liking about him. A frat boy who can respect when someone says no and not try to push it– now that is a rarity.

You want to apologize, but you really have no explanation for what makes tonight any different, at least not one you can say eloquently. How do you tell him you’re fucking sick of staring at the walls, feeling like “the best years of your life” are passing you by and leaving you with nothing to show for it? That you’ve painted sarcasm and an “I don’t give a fuck” attitude over your life for so long that now it feels like you’re backed into a corner where you can’t give a shit about anybody because there’s nobody left to give a shit about? So you were neck deep in insta stories on a Friday night like a fucking loser, and you saw a stupid post about a stupid frat party by some girl you swore was going to be your bestie the first week of freshman year who you promptly never spoke to again, and something in you snapped and said, “fuck it”?

Oof, tequila coming in strong, you think to yourself. You decide to spare Jungkook the emotional word vomit.

He keeps going when you don’t respond. “I just figured you had better things to do. Like ride motorcycles, or be in a mosh pit.”

You roll your eyes. “Motorcycles are giant metal death traps. Hard pass. And I don’t like getting punched in the face by nazis, so I don’t mosh.” You take a sip of your drink and size him up. “You’re one to talk, little alt boy.”

He’s playing with his lip ring when you say it, and the blush that creeps up his neck is honestly cute. Thoroughly unfazed by your words, he rolls up the right sleeve of his eyesore of a button down until his arm is fully exposed. “Check it out! Finally filled in the shoulder piece.”

You step closer to admire the fresh ink. Jungkook’s sleeve is, admittedly, really fucking cool. You still remember the first time you saw it in bio lab. It was the first day where the temperature crept up to an actual tolerable degree after what felt like a winter that would never end. You’d only known him in hoodies up to that point, so when he rolled into class that day in a baggy t-shirt and you saw the hint of lettering and shading peeking out from under his sleeve, your jaw nearly hit the floor.

“It’s rude to stare,” he’d said with a soft laugh and a cheeky-ass wink.

You wonder now if maybe you stepped too close, because you can feel the heat radiating off of his body. He holds his arm up for you, rotating it to show off the whole thing. Throughout the rest of the semester, you’d watched as he slowly started to fill in the blank spaces, but now it’s even more cohesive; he’s nearly finished it in the time since you last got a good look.

“Just need something on my wrist. And I might do the back of my hand. I haven’t decided.” He squeezes his hand into a fist and flexes with a put-on grunt, and you laugh even as the swell of his bicep makes your heart jump in your chest.

Emboldened by how close you are to him, and also the tequila, you trace your finger along the words that wrap across his forearm– rather be dead than cool. “That one’s my favorite,” you say softly.

When you glance up, he’s already looking at you, and now your heart’s in your throat. “I swear this thing’s the only reason you like me,” he says, the non-pierced corner of his mouth crooking up in a barely-there smile.

You open your mouth to protest when the kitchen is suddenly alive with noise as a mass of bodies crash through the doorway. A girl in a minidress that has ridden dangerously far up her thighs is nearly carried in by two of her friends, with several more trailing in right at their heels, and her name must be Hannah because they all say it about a thousand times in six seconds. A couple of dudebros shuffle in behind them, shouting for everyone to step back and give her space.

Nowhere else to go, you’re forced that much closer to Jungkook as far too many people try to squeeze into the tiny kitchen. You’ve basically got him pinned against the counter, and you look away, then look back, extremely uncomfortable.

“Sorry,” you mouth, and he shakes his head like it’s not a big deal.

He does smell really good, you realize now that he’s this close. Not like he took a bath in Axe body spray or Drakkar Noir, as most of his frat bros do, just… warm and clean, with a hint of the good kind of boy musk, salt and skin. It’s a welcome distraction from the unbridled chaos of Hannah and her entourage.

“She’s gonna be sick,” someone warns, and you wince in preparation.

“Hannah, aim for the sink!” Another girl coaxes. You turn over your shoulder and watch as Hannah takes a few steps forward, legs quivering like a baby deer, then does a last-second pivot and vomits directly into the jungle juice.

“Oh, party foul!” One of the bros yells.

You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head, and then Jungkook’s breath is ghosting over your neck and you can’t think about anything else. “Do you want to go to my room?” His voice is low, his lips inches from your ear.

You look up at him over the rim of your cup. “Yes, please.”

It’s only once you start walking that your mind is able to process what’s happening, and the panic sets in. Jeon Jungkook is guiding you through his packed frat house, his hand on the small of your back. Of course the crowds part for you like the fucking red sea, no throwing elbows required, because everybody loves him.

His bros greet him as he passes, “‘sup JK!”, and you try to avoid eye contact. You wonder how regularly they see this, him leading some wide-eyed girl up to his room to do what frat boys do best. Your stomach twists as you wonder what his expectations are, and what the fuck it is that you’ve just agreed to by saying yes.

You climb the stairs, his hand still pressed to your back, and he leads you to the first room on the left when you reach the top. When he opens the door and motions for you to step through, you’re surprised.

For one, it doesn’t reek of weed. It just smells like he does, but stronger, with a hint of fresh laundry. His bed isn’t made, but there are also no questionable stains on the black sheets, and he has four pillows and a bed frame, not just a mattress and box spring on the ground with one sad rectangle. There are some cups on the nightstand, but no ash tray overflowing with burnt out ends of blunts, no empty beer cans, and you can actually see the floor.

Not bad, you think to yourself, and then the anxiety presses in again as he shuts the door behind you. Nope. You are absolutely not doing this.

“Sorry about that,” he says with a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “These things get really crazy around finals season. I guess people need an escape in the form of mild alcohol poisoning.”

You cross your arms, unable to continue the polite conversation. “Look, I don’t know what you think is going to happen in here, but it’s not going to happen, okay?”

He steps back, his brow instantly furrowing. “Wait, what? Are you mad at me right now? I just figured you’d want to get out of the kitchen, since a girl was actively puking.”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” you say, not buying it.

“I-I’m not.” Jungkook seems genuinely flustered, enough that you realize he’s probably not acting. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he starts, and then he sighs, like he’s correcting himself. “But, I guess my intentions really don’t matter, because it seems like I did. So I’m sorry.”

You squint at him, wondering who the fuck taught this boy how to apologize so damn well. This is the first time you’ve ever heard a frat boy say “sorry” without it being immediately followed by “but” and then something so offensive that it negates the entire thing.

He waits for you to respond, then gestures to the door. “If you want to go, you can go. I just wanted to talk to you. I haven’t seen you at all since last semester, and I’m really glad you came out.”

The thought of going back downstairs is slightly more anxiety-inducing than staying in this room. At least here it’s quiet, and it smells nice, and he apparently is not actually trying to get into your pants. It really does seem like you read him wrong, you admit to yourself, and then you unceremoniously plop down on his carpet.

Jungkook doesn’t even try to hide the big smile on his face as he joins you on the floor, and you both lean back against the foot of his bed. He slips his feet out of his slides and you lean forward to pull your boots off.

“Like I said, I’ve been rotting away in my dorm room,” you remind him with a dry laugh.

“You should’ve texted me. I would’ve come rot with you.”

His words make you smile a little, but you’re still suspicious. “Uh-huh,” you intone as he takes another sip of his drink. “And what would we have done, Jungkook?” The question nearly makes you cringe; it’s like reading a bad sext out loud. You don’t know why you keep pushing him on this.

Maybe, a tiny part of your tequila brain whispers to you, you’re goading him so hard into saying that he wants to hook up because for a split second back there in the kitchen, you realized that’s what you want. But you’re a hyper-independent bitch who can’t ever admit to needing anything from anybody, so you need him to say it first.

You grit your teeth and give your head a nearly imperceptible shake, trying to shut that brain cell up.

“I don’t know,” he says with a shrug, like he really doesn’t. “Play video games?” He gestures to a Nintendo 64 in the corner of his room, hooked up to a large TV that’s mounted on the wall.

It’s certainly not the answer you expected, but you don’t hate it. You raise an eyebrow as if to challenge him. “Well, I will kick your ass in Mario Kart.”

He sucks gently on his lip ring as he looks you over, and there’s a glint in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. You’ve clearly tapped into something. “Oh, I highly doubt that.”

“Then prove it.”

Dropping out of shit-talk mode for a second, Jungkook gives a laugh that almost sounds embarrassed. “I should warn you, I get pretty competitive.”

You refuse to back down. “Better work on your gracious losing face, then.”

In acceptance of your challenge, you watch as he sorts through the bin of cartridges next to the console until he finds the one he’s looking for. He brings it up to his mouth and blows on it, some strange gamer ritual you’ve seen before but have never understood, and a shiver runs through you.

“Here,” he says, tossing you a dark blue controller, letting the cord unravel and plugging it into the port. “You can even use my favorite.” You take it in your hands and smile when you see the yellow Pokémon logo stamped across the center.

“You’re going to regret that when I beat you with it,” you retort, shrugging out of your jacket for optimum mobility. He’s grinning as he settles back next to you and the menu music starts up.

It turns out you’re pretty evenly matched in the Mario Kart skills department. You sail past him on the first course, easily finishing in first, but get entirely wrecked by a blue shell in course two and he’s able to clinch it no problem.

You would’ve expected more shit-talking based on his warning, but instead he’s just so focused, eyes wide, mouth wiggling his lip ring back and forth. It’s a little endearing. A lot endearing, really. You keep sneaking glances over at him as you start up the third and final course, wondering why he has to be so goddamn cute, why you’re incapable of finding a single flaw in him no matter how hard you try.

Forcing yourself to focus, you return your attention back to the screen, only to see that he has flown right by you and is far ahead in the lead. Oh, this simply will not do, you think to yourself, and then an item box hands you a perfectly-timed golden mushroom, and you see your path to victory.

You drift around the sharp corners, giving yourself a speed boost each time, and it’s just enough. “Get fucked,” you say with a giggle as Princess Peach cruises her way past Bowser into first place. You use the last few seconds of your mushroom power to put a solid amount of distance between your characters. There’s less than half a lap left, and absolutely nothing he can do to deny you of your win.

Or so you think, until he reaches over and drags his hand across your controller, forcing your joystick in the opposite direction and causing Peach to start driving in circles on the screen.

“What the fuck!” You scream, trying to smack his hand away, but he closes one of your hands in his and forces that down on the joystick, making your car go fully backwards. “You fucking cheater!”

“You’re the cheater,” he grunts, which doesn’t even make any sense, but pisses you off enough to reach for his controller to mimic his strategy. However, you fail to account for his evolutionary advantage of having longer arms than you; he’s easily able to scoot away while keeping his hand pressed down on your own. You see in the game that he’s inches away from overtaking you now, the fingers of his other hand stretching to work joystick and button at once.

“No!” You cry out in frustration, desperately trying to wriggle your hand free. You can’t just sit here and watch him steal this out from under you, so you dive hard to one side and yank the controller away at the same time.

It’s only a little too late that you realize you have once again made an uncoordinated lunge and ended up with far too much leftover momentum. He does not relent, and you underestimated the severity of his grip on your hand because when you fall over he comes with you, both of you toppling onto the carpet as the controller flies out of your grasp.

You end up flat on your back, and his reflexes are only barely fast enough to respond, his hands bracing the floor on either side of your head so he can avoid landing on top of you.

But that’s even worse, because now Jungkook is hovering over you, and you’re both breathing heavy, and his hair is falling in his eyes, and you don’t even know how but his thigh has managed to end up pressed between your legs.

For a moment, you don’t move or say anything, and neither does he. You just stay like that, staring at each other. Your eyes drop to his mouth, and then he cracks a smug grin.

“I told you I don’t like to lose.”

Your stomach flips as your panic rears back in full force, and you meet his gaze again. “Am I still supposed to believe you didn’t bring me up here to hook up?” Your voice is barely more than a whisper.

The smile drops off his face as his eyes search yours. “What do you want?” He asks, and you can hear the exasperation in his voice. “Because you’re the one who keeps talking about it.”

You falter, unable to come up with any witty retort because you know he’s right. Jungkook moves away from you and you sit up with a sigh. He scoots back a few more inches, giving you plenty of space, and reaches for the remote to mute the TV.

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” you say, your voice still soft. You can’t look at him, so you stare at the carpet instead. “That’s just alcohol and adolescent sex drive talking. It’s not a good idea.”

“Why not?” He doesn’t sound mad, but confused, like he wants to understand your thought process. Good fucking luck, you think to yourself.

You give him a look. “Because I’m not an idiot. Hooking up with a frat boy in his frat house is never a good idea.”

The way his face falls makes you feel like the biggest bitch on planet earth, and you desperately wish you could shove the words back in your mouth, that you were capable of shutting up for once in your goddamn life.

“Is that really how you see me?”

Of course it’s not. You know it’s not, and you hope he knows it too, despite your inability to ever actually say what you fucking mean. But you can’t stop yourself. The defense mechanism is fully engaged now.

“Jungkook, you are literally a frat boy. We are literally in a frat house. This is not a perception character judgment thing. It’s an objective facts of reality thing.”

He fixes you in his gaze, saying nothing, then sighs. “Why do you do that?”

Your heart sinks. “Do what?”

He shakes his head, worrying at his lip ring again, clearly a nervous habit. “I don’t know, it’s like… Sometimes I think you like me, but then you always throw a wall up at the last second. I just wish I knew why.”

That makes two of us, you think bitterly, but your heart is simultaneously cracking apart at how vulnerable he’s being with no hesitation. You’re almost jealous that he can just move through life like this, open and honest, so unafraid.

“I do like you,” you admit, and you open your mouth to add the qualifier, to put the wall up, but he speaks first.

“I like you, too. I’ve liked you for a long time.” This kid is going to be the death of you. “I’m not just looking to score, or whatever."

You pull your knees to your chest, crossing your arms over them, trying to shrink until you no longer exist. You start to shake your head. “Jungkook, I don’t–”

“See,” he cuts you off, “you’re doing it right now.” You groan and bury your face in your arms. “What is that? We like each other, why can’t that be enough?”

The question hangs heavy, because you know there’s no good answer.

Finally, you look up at him and sigh. “Because,” you start decisively. “You’re… you. And I’m me.” You gesture between the two of you. “We’re from different worlds.”

His face scrunches up a little, and it’s his turn to shake his head slowly. “I really don’t think we are. I think you’re just telling yourself that.” You can see he’s getting frustrated and you don’t fucking blame him. “And I don’t get how you can complain about sitting by yourself in your dorm room, but then keep blocking everyone out so that you’re always alone.”

“I like being alone!” The lie comes out reflexively before you can even think to stop it. You’ve said it so many times at this point that it almost feels true. “Alone is best.” You pause, and for a second you really wonder if you’re going to cry right now, on the floor of Jeon Jungkook’s bedroom, in his stupid frat house. “You can’t get hurt, or disappointed, or left behind if you’re alone,” you conclude. There it is. The truth, kind of.

“I wouldn’t do any of those things to you,” he says softly.

You just stare at him for a moment. The promise is too good to be true. It always is. “You can’t know that.”

He pauses, then nods once, staring back at you. “You’re right. But I don’t want to do those things. And I would try really hard not to. I just want to make you feel good. Whatever that looks like.”

You can’t help where your stupid tequila brain immediately takes the idea, and you let out a dry laugh. “Well, if that’s what you’re after, there’s really no chance.”

His brows pinch together, clearly not understanding. “What does that mean?”

“Many have tried, none have succeeded,” you say with a roll of your eyes, stretching your legs back out. “I am a puzzle that no man can solve.”

The realization slowly dawns on him, and his eyes widen. “Wait, are you saying you’ve never had a–”

You wave a hand in the air as if to shush him, and you cut him off. “Stop. Don’t be dramatic. I’ve had plenty of orgasms, courtesy of my vibrator and my showerhead.” Your face is a little hot from talking about this in front of him. “Just… only alone. The running theme here, apparently.”

He tilts his head, processing this new information. “So do you fake it?” You tell yourself you’re just imagining that he sounds a little upset.

You grimace. “With my high school boyfriend, yeah. He was my first everything, and we were so young. I was too embarrassed to say it, so I just let him believe he had a magical dick that brought me to orgasm at the exact same time as him every time.”

Jungkook huffs a laugh of disbelief.

“And after that,” you continue, looking down in embarrassment, “I don’t know, it’s pretty much just been hookups, and most usually don’t bother to ask. Some have tried for a while, and then given up…” The memories make you cringe. “It’s just uncomfortable. Hence the alone thing.” You give a half shrug. “It’s okay. My vibrator is nice.”

He says nothing, and you mentally kick yourself for oversharing. This is why the wall goes up, you think, but when you look at him, he’s already looking at you, and not in the way you expected.

In fact, you’re surprised to see that glint in his eyes again. He licks his lips, and you realize your pulse is racing.

“The way I see it,” he begins slowly, his voice low and even, “we have two options.” You raise an eyebrow, your interest piqued, and he continues. “Option one. You let me know, for real, that you’re not interested. You don’t have to tell me why, but you do have to mean it. And I’ll leave you alone, and you can go home and write your paper.”

Your mouth goes dry as you try to prepare for what might come next.

“Or, option two.” You swear his eyes darken as he says it. “You admit to me that you like me, and that you want me. And you let me take care of you. Which includes keeping you in my bed for as long as it takes me to make you come. I don’t care if it takes hours. I’ve got hours.”

He shrugs like he hasn’t just said the most devastating thing you’ve ever heard. “We can figure out the rest after. It doesn’t have to be anything you don’t want it to be. But it’s your call. I won’t be mad, whatever you choose. I just need to know.” He leans back on his hands, awaiting your choice.

“Jungkook,” you breathe. “You don’t know how tempting that offer is.” You try to say more, but he’s faster.

“Then say yes.”

You want to scream at him that it’s not that simple, that letting people all the way in is a door you slammed shut long ago, never to be opened again. But despite your best attempts, this cheeky, dorky, pierced and tattooed frat wonder boy has managed to wedge that door back open, just an inch. And it’s enough that now you can’t help but wonder what’s on the other side.

Maybe he’s right. Maybe it really can be that simple with him. Maybe safe doesn’t always have to mean alone. Isn’t that why you came to this party in the first place?

You let out a slow exhale, and then for the first time in your life, you decide to get out of your own way.

“Okay,” you say, and you have to work to keep your voice from shaking. “Yes. But,” you quickly add before he has a chance to react, “I don’t want this to turn into a big thing if…” you trail off. “You know. If I can’t.”

“Oh, I’m not worried about that.” He says with a self-assured smile, and you hate that it’s so hot. “I have a secret weapon.”

And then he opens his mouth and sticks his tongue out, and the end of a silver barbell winks at you.

Your jaw drops. “I’m sorry, you have a tongue piercing?!”

He smirks. “Got it a couple months ago. It’s fully healed now, so you get to be my maiden voyage.” You cringe and he laughs self-consciously. “Sorry, that sounded cooler in my head.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re laughing too as his hands reach for your ankles. He gently starts to pull you towards him and you cross your legs, scooting the rest of the way forward until your knees are touching his.

“Can I please kiss you now?” Jungkook asks, but you take his face in your hands and beat him to it.

Given his competitive streak, a part of you had expected everything about this to be rough and hard, but the way he kisses you is so gentle, it’s romantic. You’d forgotten what it’s like to be kissed like this, intimate and slow, not just a tongue shoved down your throat. Jungkook is continuing to prove to you what he already has time and time again: he is nothing like any man you’ve ever met.

You are really curious about that piercing, though, so you tilt your head and tentatively lick into his mouth. When you bump against the metal post he whines a little, and goddamn, you need to be in his bed right fucking now.

He must have the same thought because his hands run firmly over your hips and you both maneuver to your feet without breaking apart. You let him guide you backwards until your knees hit the end of the bed, and you sit down and gaze up at him, breathless from his kisses.

You’re a little nervous, you realize, but then you see the way he’s looking at you. “God, you are so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, and your face flushes.

Jungkook ducks his head to kiss you again, moving you to lay down, and his hand finds the small of your back beneath you. You can’t help but smile when he uses the arm wrapped around you to effortlessly lift you up and scoot you backwards to the head of the bed. You lean against the pillows as his tongue returns to your mouth.

His fingers start to play gently at the hem of your shirt as if asking a question. You nod and he pushes it up, your lips breaking apart only for as long as it takes to pull it over your head before finding each other again.

You reach to do the same for him, but he makes an “uh-uh” noise into your mouth, then pulls away. “I want this to be about you.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Jungkook, that is incredibly sweet, and it can absolutely be about me. But I think you will severely hurt your chances of bringing me to orgasm if you’re wearing that creamsicle nightmare shirt while you’re doing it."

He raises his eyebrows for a split second like he’s weighing whether or not he should accept that challenge, but then he shrugs with a grin and pulls his shirt off over his head. His body is ridiculous, lithe and toned, and he inhales sharply when you run your hands up his chest.

You realize now, as he unhooks your bra and tosses it off the edge of the bed, then starts to kiss down your jaw, that Jungkook is vocal. He makes these breathy little sighs against your skin as he goes, and when you do something like scratch your nails over his back or dip your head to trace your tongue along his neck, he outright moans. The low, raw sound makes your pussy throb.

Noise during sex has always been weird for you; you felt like guys expected you to be loud, which is hard to do convincingly when you’re nowhere near satisfied. But none of the sounds he’s making now seem in any way performative. You can tell it’s just him enjoying your shared pleasure the same way he does everything– unashamedly.

So when he sucks gently at the place where your neck and shoulder meet, lightly running his piercing over the sensitive skin there, your eyes flutter closed, and you don’t hold back the noise he pulls out of you.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you breathe, and you feel him smile.

You’re overwhelmed by all the different sensations his mouth can make against your skin. He kisses, licks, drags his tongue ring, and bites along your neck and your collarbones, working you until you couldn’t keep quiet even if you wanted to. His hands slide up your waist, coming to cup your breasts, and he tries similar experiments with his thumbs over your nipples: barely-there tapping, then firmer pressure in slow circles, then light pinches that make you gasp and writhe.

He’s clearly educating himself, paying close attention to your responses to figure out the best ways to touch you and take you apart. No one has ever cared this much about what actually felt good to you before; this is a far cry from the half-hearted two minutes of foreplay you’re accustomed to. He really does act like he’s got all the time in the world.

The thought of him touching and kissing you like this for hours is dizzying. Even if he can’t make you come, you don’t fucking care, everything he’s doing still feels incredible. It’s a hell of a lot better than writing a paper.

Jungkook groans into your skin as he mouths down to your breasts, and when he shifts, you can feel his erection grind against your thigh. The knowledge that he’s just as turned on by this as you are, paired with a deft flick of his piercing over your nipple, makes you whine loudly. Your core is already aching to be touched, licked, fucked– anything.

He reaches to unbutton your pants while his lips and tongue still work at the bud of your breast in his mouth. Your hips lift up at his touch and he pulls your jeans down, dropping your nipple from between his teeth so you can kick them the rest of the way off.

His hands slip under the band of your panties with a grunt so heady it’s nearly a growl, but instead of pulling them down, he loops the fabric around his fingers once and pulls up, so the lace is pressed tight against your dripping cunt. Even that small amount of friction makes you whimper, your hips rocking in desperate search of relief.

“Can I take these off?” He pairs the question with another firm tug, so the lace rubs right over your clit as your hips circle.

You don’t even have the breath to answer, you want it so bad; you can only nod.

He pulls your panties off, tossing them to join the rest of your clothes on the floor before moving down between your spread legs. You’re so wet for him now that just his breath on your core is enough to make you moan.

You brush his hair off his forehead and watch as he brings his mouth to your thighs, trailing lips and teeth upwards. With each pass, he comes so close to where you want him, where you need him, but deliberately stops just shy, teasing you. He runs his tongue along the crease where your hip and thigh meet, and the drag of his piercing on your skin makes you cry out, delirious with anticipation.

But then his mouth goes in the wrong direction. Rather than close the small amount of distance left to finally, finally make contact with your cunt, he shifts away from it. His lips and tongue trail back over your hips, your stomach, and up the valley between your breasts. You lift your head in disbelief to watch him, and you don’t think you’re going to make it– you’ve never been denied pleasure like this before. Your eyes start to sting like they might well up with tears.

He keeps going, lips moving from your neck to your jaw and then finally back to your mouth. You turn your head to the side, your breathing ragged.

“Jungkook,” you nearly sob, “please.”

His voice is hoarse when he murmurs in your ear with a dark laugh, “I was wondering how long it would take you to beg for it. You really held out on me.” He kisses you again and you whine in frustration as he sucks on your bottom lip. He pulls away with a smile. “Talk to me. Tell me what you need.”

Your head swims; you try to form words through your desperation. “I– fuck, anything, anything. Please, Jungkook, please.” You sound so wrecked, so needy, but if he wants you to beg, you’ll do it, gladly. You’re going to die if he doesn’t touch you soon. Your hips shudder up against his, your nails dragging down his back.

“Good girl, love it when you say my name like that,” he groans into the crook of your neck, and your pussy clenches around nothing, your brain short-circuiting at the praise.

He doesn’t drag it out any longer– you don’t think you’d survive if he did– and instead just shifts to settle back between your legs. His hands come to your thighs and you’re so keyed up that you jump under his touch as he spreads you wide open. You’re nearly clawing at the bedsheets in preparation to finally feel him after so long, but instead of his fingers or his tongue, something wet hits your clit.

It takes a second for your brain to process that he spit on you. Fuck.

You look up to see him looking at you, wide-eyed, like he’s only just realized what he did. “Sorry, I should’ve asked first. Was that okay?”

It was fucking hot, actually, but you’re so far gone that you can’t make the words happen. You can only nod and roll your hips up toward him.

“Jungkook, please,” you manage to whimper one final time, and he dips his head to press a kiss to your inner thigh.

“Don’t worry,” he murmurs against your skin, “I’ve got you.” And then he closes his lips around your clit.

“Oh my fucking god,” you moan, relief flooding through you like a shot in the arm. His movements aren’t that different from how he first kissed you, gentle and sweet, and your clit throbs when his lip ring rolls over it.

Jungkook’s mouth falls into a steady rhythm, and he’s groaning against your pussy like it feels good for him, too. Enthusiastic is the only way to describe the way he eats you out; you really do believe he could do this all day.

Alternating with the movement of his lips, he starts to incorporate long, slow licks of his tongue across your folds. There’s enough spit and slickness that his piercing slides right over your clit, and it’s a sensation like nothing you’ve ever felt before that has you bucking against his mouth. He whines mid-lick when you do, and the vibration rips through you, your back arching in response.

That earns you two of his fingers slipped into your cunt, and for the second time tonight, you think you might die. Your legs start to shake as his fingers curl inside you.

“Yes, yes, oh fuck,” you groan. You don’t recognize your own voice; you’ve never made noise like this before, but nothing’s ever felt this good. You’re coming undone in his hands, under his tongue.

He changes up the rhythm on your clit, moving between fluidly swirling his piercing over it and pulling it into his mouth for hard suction. The pleasure is still overwhelming, but something about the switch-up takes you out of your body and into your head, and you falter for a moment.

He’s been at this for a while, and he does seem to be enjoying himself, but even so, you start to feel self-conscious. Are you taking too long? Is his tongue getting tired? What if you still can’t come from this?

Your momentary silence and lack of movement must be enough to send Jungkook’s competitive edge into overdrive, because he grabs your thigh with his free hand as if to pull you even closer and fully buries his face in your cunt.

He flattens his tongue against you and starts to shake his head aggressively, wiggling his tongue with it, and the barbell tapping rhythmically at your clit has you gasping for air and grabbing at the bedsheets.

As if that wasn’t enough, he adds a third finger inside you, slowing down for just a moment to make sure you’re accustomed to the stretch. He runs his free hand up your thigh and lays it flat below your stomach, pressing down firmly on your lower abdomen. You don’t know what to expect– no one’s ever done it to you before, but when he resumes rocking his fingers back and forth against your front wall under that extra pressure, you nearly drench his hand in arousal, it feels so good.

“Fuck, Jungkook, fuck!” You moan, and you wonder if the whole party downstairs can hear. You sound like a goddamn pornstar, the kind of noises that are so ridiculous you’d think they were fake if you weren’t experiencing the insane, all-encompassing pleasure yourself firsthand. Here, in Jungkook’s bed, in his fucking frat house, getting eaten out like you’re his last fucking meal.

You can’t even remember what you were worrying about now. There’s no space left in your brain for it, and your pussy is already starting to flutter around his fingers as you feel the pressure building in your core.

Out of sheer desperation, you wind a hand through his hair and lift your hips up against his mouth, matching his rhythm. He looks up at you and moans around your clit, nodding his head, clearly trying to encourage you without letting his tempo slow.

His breathing is ragged and loud as you grip his hair and rock your hips, bumping your clit against his pierced tongue again and again and again, exactly the way you need it.

Your moans increase in pitch and pace as you feel your orgasm crest. He responds back in time, encouraging you, his voice coming from some raw, primal place as he grunts open-mouthed, “uh-huh, uh-huh” against your clit, and you can hear his fingers working your cunt so well, and it’s all too fucking much.

You come so hard, it makes you question if you’ve ever actually had an orgasm before. Hands gripping at the sheets, toes curling, legs shaking violently, back arching up off the mattress, all with a loud moan that’s more like a sob. You have never in your life felt anything this good.

Jungkook slows but doesn’t stop as the aftershocks roll through you, slowly moving his head up and down to lick flat, long stripes over your clit as you continue to shudder against his face. Your thighs pull together reflexively when you become too sensitive, and that’s when he finally relents, pulling off and out of you.

You stare up at the ceiling, trying to remember how to breathe and wondering if you really did die after all. There’s a loud bang on the door, but you’re too blissed out to even give a fuck, and it’s just one of his frat bros yelling “alright, JK!” from the other side.

At least they’re supportive of a woman’s pleasure, you think, and then you can’t help but laugh at the sheer insanity of it all. Jungkook slides up the bed to lay next to you, and he’s smiling as he wipes his face with his hand.

“I guess you didn’t fake that one, huh?”

You can only shake your head as you struggle to get your breath back.

“Holy shit, I feel like I should say thank you,” you eventually manage, and he laughs his perfect laugh. You roll over to bury your face in his shoulder. “What the fuck, Jungkook– I think I saw my life flash before my eyes. That was fucking crazy.”

Jungkook flips onto his side facing you, propped up on one arm, his other hand gently running back and forth along the curve of your waist. “What can I say? I play to win.” He can’t hide his satisfied smile as the official winner of your first ever non-solo orgasm.

You lean against him, allowing your eyes to close again as your pulse slows, and you sigh contentedly as he presses his lips to your hairline.

“What time is it?” He asks after a few minutes. “Do you need to go write your paper?”

You tilt back to shoot him a death glare. “Do not mention my fucking paper right now, Jeon Jungkook. I’m trying to bask in the glow here.”

He laughs again and pulls you closer. “My bad.”

“And besides,” your face softens, and your eyes trace down to his hand that’s now gently palming over the front of his pants, where you can see the bulge of his erection. “I believe you promised me hours.”

He raises his eyebrows slightly. “Oh, I’ll give you hours.”

Your pussy doesn’t feel anywhere near recovered, but you’re somehow also aching for him to fuck you. If that was only his head game, you genuinely don’t think you’ll survive sex with Jungkook. But you’re willing to die trying.

“Come here,” his voice returns to that near-growl and he crawls over you, one hand cupping your jaw as he brings his lips to yours.

This time when his thigh presses between your legs, it’s on purpose. Your clit still twitches at the contact, but the pressure is indirect enough that it only feels good, and you rock your hips slowly into him.

You’re desperate to see him, touch him, return the favor, and your hand slips between your bodies to grab him through his pants. You whine against his lips when you feel how thick he is in your hand, and you pull little gasps out of him as you slowly start to pump him over the fabric.

“Please fuck me, Jungkook,” you whisper when you break apart, begging for it the way you’ve learned he likes, your hand still working him.

He bites down hard on your neck with a laugh, like he can’t believe you’re real.

You start to unbutton and push down his pants and then he flips onto his back to do the rest, shedding pants and boxers at the same time. You can’t help but giggle a little at his apparent urgency, pleased that he needs you just as bad, as he yanks his nightstand drawer out, retrieves a condom, and rips it open with his teeth.

But that urgency is gone once he’s hovering over you, cock teasing at your entrance, your knees bent and legs spread for him. It’s replaced by that same look in his eyes, those same gentle kisses, and arousal pooling in your belly at the realization that he really could do this for hours. But you need him now.

“Please,” you whisper one more time, and he groans against your throat as he pushes into you.

His pace is slow, hips rolling fluidly, and you’re still so sensitive that your walls flutter around him with each thrust. The thickness of his cock feels just as good as you thought it would. You moan loudly, arching back against the pillow, as his head drags over your sweet spot.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” he groans, his voice ragged. He keeps rolling his hips, stroking so slow and deep that it’s pleasure and torture all in one.

Jungkook must be a fast learner, because when he thrusts into you one more time and you whine in response, the same strangled noise you made when he teased your cunt, he knows what you need. You don’t even have to beg for it.

His hands slide along the backs of your thighs and he pushes, just a little, folding your legs up so your pelvis tilts to give him full access to your cunt. And then he picks up the pace.

The pleasure is overwhelming as he bottoms out inside you over and over, and you’re already close to the edge of a second climax. You rake your nails down his back and his hips move even faster, both of you moaning with every thrust. The sound of skin on skin is so loud it’s obscene; there’s no way the whole party doesn’t know what you’re up to by now.

You don’t give a shit. You hope they’re all jealous.

Your legs start to shake as the pressure in your core builds, and you’re suddenly in dire need of release all over again. You move to reach a hand down between your legs, but Jungkook doesn’t miss a thing.

He lets go of one of your thighs to knock your hand away, replacing it with his own, his thrusts never slowing. You watch this time as he spits on your clit again, and then starts to rub circles over it.

It’s a touch you’ve felt before, fast and hard, usually performed by a guy who has no idea what he’s doing, and usually painful as all hell.

But Jungkook is very obviously a fucking expert in his field, and he must know that when you’re as slick as you are from his mouth and your own arousal, and you’ve already come once, and you’re this insanely turned on and desperate for it, it doesn’t hurt at all. Your hips lift up off the bed because right now, it’s fucking perfect.

“Oh my fucking god, Jungkook, fuck, yes, don’t stop–” you cry out, and your last moan is nearly a scream as you come all the way undone for him. Your cunt squeezes tightly around his length, and he only has to rut into you a few more times before he’s coming, too, with a loud groan of your name.

His head drops onto your shoulder as he finishes, gasping for breath. You lean back against the pillows, still shuddering a little but entirely spent, fucked out of your mind.

You’re only vaguely aware of what’s happening when he pulls out of you, or when the bed shifts as he gets up to dispose of the condom, then collapses back down next to you with a dazed sigh.

You roll into him, still lost for words, and he wraps both arms around you. You can hear his heart thudding hard in his chest, the same tempo as yours.

A laugh rips through you as you play the last few moments back and remember his hand shoving your own away. You look up at him. “So what are you, in charge of my orgasms now? Did I sign a contract tonight?”

“No,” he gives a small smile, and you see a blush creep up his neck at the reminder of something done clearly in the heat of the moment. “I don’t know. No one had ever made you come once before, so… I just wanted to do it twice. Set a new number to beat.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t hide the grin on your face. “I’m not a video game, Jungkook.”

“Nope,” he laughs, tightening his grip around you. “You are so much better.” He ducks down to kiss you gently.

You’re still smiling when he moves to rest his chin on your head. “And you are better than my vibrator.”

There’s a comfortable pause, and then you decide you may as well do what you do best and ruin everything. “So, is now the time when I ask you the phrase that every frat boy dreads to hear?” You start, and he’s already looking at you when you glance up again. “What are we?”

He shrugs, looking totally nonplussed. “That’s up to you. I will literally go out there right now and announce to the entire party that you’re my girlfriend and I’m the first man to ever make you come, if that’s what you want.”

You press your face to his chest and laugh self-consciously. “Well, I think they already know about the second part. I wasn’t exactly quiet.”

His lips brush against your temple. “Don’t be. I want them all to know who’s fucking you right.”

You sigh, wondering how on earth this kid is real. There’s a big part of you, especially with the high of two orgasms rattling around in your brain, that wants to take the leap right now, straight into the unknown. You want to trust him fully, but you’re still scared of the uncertainty, the potential for disaster. It’s been a long time since you let someone all the way in.

“But the G word…” you say nervously. “That’s a lot for me, at least right now.”

“Okay,” Jungkook says simply, and when you meet his gaze, the look on his face betrays no hurt feelings or hidden agenda. It makes you feel like it really is okay. “We can be whatever you want,” he continues. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You can feel yourself getting emotional, and you bring your cheek to his chest again, hoping he can’t tell. “Well, whatever label we put on it, you are eating me out like that at least once a week.”

“Once a week?” He huffs softly. “How about once a day?” He shifts slightly to trail kisses along your neck. “Actually,” he murmurs in your ear, “I could go for seconds right now…”

You laugh and shove against his chest. “Hey, I’m still getting used to this brave new world over here. If you make me come again tonight I think I might literally die in your bed.” He relents with a smug smile and a kiss pressed to your cheek.

“But if you wanted to wake me up that way tomorrow…” you offer, and he gets that goddamn look in his eyes, the one that may forever be known as the look that ruined your life.

“Oh, I think we can make that happen.”

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook x y/n #bts smut #bts x reader #the spins

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inari-zaheer · 2 years

Note

Hi! Could I request a fic for Ekko? I feel like the boy needs more love

Angst with happy ending please! I have no idea for plot tho, maybe someone he thought was dead but came back? Maybe her (reader) protecting Ekko and getting hurt? Idk, just have fun!! (Smut would also be ok 😉) ((sorry if my ask is too much tho! You can tots deny it!)

I Thought You Were Gone

Pairing:Ekko x Reader

TW:Mention of bad thoughts and giving up

Word Count:964

Song Suggestion:Crossfire - Stephen

A/N:I was on a really sad/angsty mood when I wrote this lol, so I’m definitely thinking on making a part 2, anyway, enjoy♥️

—————————————

Things were going crazy in both sides of the bridge recently.

With Silco doing more deals with shimmer, meaning more shipments where sent and recieved everyday, Jinx stealing Hextech and now with Vi coming back from what everybody thought was the dead and bringing a piltie with her, Ekko was going crazy.

Of course he had you by his side for everything he needed, specially when it came to taking decisions involving the sanctuary while he was away, and thats what he had tasked you with before going to what you thought was some kind of suicide mission.

You never really been to Piltover yourself for long times, nor have you talked to someone from there besides your new "friend" Caitlyn, but it was common knowledge that they never had good thoughts abou any undercity folk.

So, in contrary to what he had made you swear not to do you gave the leader function to Scar and went after them, as you had a bad feeling on your gut about the whole situation.

When you arrived at the bridge it was kinda late as some type of combat seemed to have happened between them and some enforcers that were now lifeless on the ground, but as you were starting to get worried you finally saw Ekko fighting Jinx in the middle of the bridge.

He was handling everything with such maestry that you thought he would not need your help, but you soon saw you were mistaken when, upon thinking he had the upper hand he got distracted enough not to notice the blue haired girls arming a bomb right beside them.

Your actions were quicker than your thoughts when you suddently went with your hoverboard right in the direction of the bomb, separating both of them in the process, but it was obvious you did it out of pure instinct not thinking about having a literall bomb on your hands, you tried to throw it on the river but it was to late.

"Y/N NO!" was the last thing you heard before you lost your senses.

If Ekko was already mad at Jinx now he was enraged, not letting himself be distracted this time he continued to hit JInx until he was sure she was unconcious, he wanted to hurt her further, but he wansn't like the monsters of the undercity he swore to destroy.

He went down the bridge as fast es he could, not caring anymore about the stupid gemstone or Vi's shouts on the other side of the smoke curtain, his heart was beatting as fast as ever as he tried to look out for you in the dark waters, only for an unexpected shot on his foot made him lose his balance and fall on the concrete floor below him.

Now disabled and afraid that something worse might have actually happened to you he tried as much as he could to stay quiet in the middle of his panick atack as to not make himself known to Silco's goons that were up the bridge, only hoping that by a miracle you were going to appear in front of him safe and sound, or that a firelight would come looking for him.

------------------------------------------------------

In the following week after Heimerdinger helped him get safely back into the sanctuary he couldn’t do anything besides cry and shout at everyone that even dared to metion your name in his presence.

He kept screaming at Scar on the first hours after he came back for letting you go out after him, his friend only heard with his mouth shut, he knew Ekko would prefer the worst torture, prefer to kill himself instead of having to lose you, he didnt gave him a comforting speech either, he knew it wasnt what his friend needed now.

The following days only seemed to get worse, shit hit the fan when Jinx exploded the council, which made him blame himself even more for not trying to get the gem back, and he missed you, he missed your touch, your scent, your voice, the way that if you were there beside him right now you would have made him feel better with your comforting words and reassuring touches all over him.

He couldn’t eat anymore, sleep anymore, he lost himself on an abyss of sadness, he just couldn’t handle your loss anymore as he only thought of giving everything up, but when he was about to go to the upper floor of his chambers Scar bolted through the door saying that Ekko needed to go to the sewer doors.

Scar ignored his friend’s demands to just leave him alone and promptly dragged him all the way down the three on a hoverboard against his will, his tiredness were slowly going back to anger when he saw the most unexpected but also relieving sigh he have seen in his entire life.

You slowly made your way through the curious crowd of firelights that were just as surprised as him by your return, upon seeing your state, with bandages all over your body and a cane helping you to move it was clear that you were on your worst shape, but the only thing that mattered to him was that you were alive.

He immediatly ran to hug you "Oh my fucking god Y/N is it really you? Fuck I though you were gone for good i just-" "O-ow babe" "Oh shit I'm really sorry i hurt you, but is just...i thought you were...but now youre here and, and" You embraced him through his tears as carefully as possible not no hurt yourself even further but giving your lover the confort he was needing after what seemed to be the worse days of his life.

"Come on, help me get upstaisr so you can take proper care of me and i can explain to you what happened, sounds good?"

"Sounds just perfect"

#arcane #arcane x reader #ekko #ekko x reader #arcane fanfic #ekko arcane

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finelinevogue · 3 years

Note

hey! first of all i’m obsessed with all of your writing i swear i cry every single time😭🤍 i look forward to reading your stuff when i get home from work, and it helps me when i’m stressed. so basically hi i love you. i recently celebrated 1 year sober and i was wondering if you could write something abou harry dedicating a song to his gf for maintaining her sobriety? (only if you’re comfortable ofc!)

hi, i love you too! sorry for making you cry😭 your words are so kind and you’ve made my day so much brighter! congratulations on your one year sobriety!!! i hope you’re very proud of yourself, because i’m really proud of you - always <33 i’m not sure what you are sober for and i don’t to be invasive and ask, so i decided to base this one off an alcohol addiction. this one’s for you, my lovely; (oh and p.s. let’s pretend harry wrote ‘home’ just for you and one direction never wrote it!)

Today you celebrated being one year sober.

Four years ago you developed an alcohol addiction. It was the worst time of your life; going to parties just to wake up still paralytic, drinking an alcoholic drink with every meal and a couple in between, falling asleep drunk every night and not learning your lesson from the hangover the next morning. You were self destructing and were too gone to see it happen. The people around you could see it happening though. Your family and friends abandoned you because you they believed you were a lost cause. You were alone for 3 lonely years, until last year you met Harry.

The one time that you were actually sober, shopping in your local Aldi, was the first time you met him.

He was dressed from a run and was in the fridge section to grab himself a protein shake before he was about to run home - that you’d come to learn. He made minimal conversation with you, but it was enough for him to fall for you - hard. Every time you met up with him you tried to be as sober as you could, but it caught up to you. You slipped and shut yourself out from him, not wanting him to leave you like everyone else had so you left him first.

As it would be, he never left you. He saved you.

He was there for you in your darkest moments. He was there to help lock your demons away and introduce life back into your heart and soul. You wanted to be better for him, he deserved that much. Half a year after meeting him, he managed to encourage you to attend counselling sessions which you would be worse without. He made calls to friends to help you re-connect with people, truly friendly people. He hugged you on the days you felt anxious or tempted and let you cry on his shoulder when you felt like a failure, all the whilst he would kiss your forehead and squeeze you to remind you just how much you were loved and just how proud he was of you. It took you a while to believe it, but;

Harry Styles loves and is proud of you.

You were so happy to spending the day with him, getting to watch him do what he loves so much. He was in Denver, Colorado, tonight and his set was going perfect so far. He’d given his infamous “ass or face” speech, which made the fans go wild. He, unfortunately, had to use the oxygen mask to replenish his lungs because he wasn’t feeling great. He’d even shouted to you when you were blowing him kisses saying, “I wanna kiss you but I can’t” which made you tear up ever so slightly. Today was such a proud and happy day for you, so extra moments like this for you were the cherries on the top of the cake.

“Okay, so we have 15 more minutes of love tonight for you.” Harry spoke into his microphone, after singing Treat People With Kindness and looking so very sweaty. “15 minutes of extra love compared to the previous show.” The fans screamed at this and you knew the fans in Vegas would no doubt be extra jealous.

“He’s allowed to do that?” You asked Jeff beside you, wondering why he was changing the timings all of a sudden. He hadn’t told you about this.

“He specifically requested it before going onstage.” Jeff answered, winking at you and nodding his head back to the stage for you to focus.

“Now. Today is not only special because I get to play in front of you lovely people,” the crowd let out a deafening scream, “but because it is an important day for my Y/N.” He smiled, looking over in your direction. The crowd screamed even louder for you.

“What is he doing?” You asked Jeff but he only smiled and shrugged his shoulders. Liar, you thought.

You’d never publicly told anyone about your addiction because it was something that you were embarrassed about. You hated who you were and you tried your hardest not to think about that person anymore. Harry was the only person who knew and you liked to keep it that way, for the time being. Not even your new friends knew.

“I’m so proud of Y/N, always, but especially today.” Harry spoke, walking down the stage to the end of the runway where his mic was set up and still keeping eye contact with you. Your tears were full in your eyes and some even streaming down your face as you took in his words.

He’d spent all morning loving on you. He didn’t let you two leave the hotel room until 5 minutes before the buses were leaving, because he wanted to spend as much time as possible showing you just how much he loved you. Turns out 4 rounds of sex, 2 blowjobs and 3 times getting eaten out doesn’t even come close to showing that, according to him, but it did make you feel worthy and that’s all you’ve wanted to feel for the past few years. He made you feel worth it - it being loved and supported and safe. He was your blanket of comfort and you’d let him swallow you up every day for the rest of your life if it meant feeling this way forever.

Harry had even bought you a card and a cake, one that had a singular candle in to mark your one year anniversary of being sober. The sense of pride getting to blow out that candle was a feeling second to none, except from maybe the 7 orgasms you were given.

“So if you don’t mind, i’m going to sing this song for my girlfriend. It’s new, but i’m sure you’ll pick up the chorus. This is called ‘Home’ and it’s just for you, m’love.” God damn these tears, you could barely see Harry pick up his galaxy painted guitar and tilt his body so he was facing you.

The song had you in tears.

Fans were both recording you and Harry, but you were too unaware to notice them when all you could focus on were the words he was singing to you. Every line was so clear and it made your heart burst through your chest that little bit more each time. You cupped your hands under your vin as you cried over every new line of song, watching him strum on the guitar and sing his heart out as if every ounce of him was just for you. His words, his voice, his heart and soul were completely yours. The fans did quickly pick up the chorus and the atmosphere was completely still, yet electric with them feeding off Harrys energy and gifting it to you.

“You’ll never feel like you’re alone, i’ll make this feel like home.”

His last line was sung and his last chord was struck and you couldn’t move an inch. You were stuck watching him with intense loved eyes, feeling an overwhelming sense of support and comfort just from this moment alone. You thought what he’d given you this morning in the hotel was love, but now you questioned that. This felt like a reminder you were free and safe and found. You felt significant. And for a moment, that all felt a like bit stronger than love.

You didn’t even realise your boyfriend was standing in front of you until he was. He caressed your cheek in one hand, holding the neck of his guitar with his other. The fans were being caged behind a barricade, but they weren’t even violently pushing because they wanted to see how he treated you and acted around you behind closed doors. Your relationship was very private, so this was very new for you too. You liked him close though. So much so that everyone else sort of slipped away.

“That bad?” He asked teasingly, referring to the amount of tears you were crying.

“Was a bit rusty in some places.” You teased back, you and him both knowing you didn’t mean a word that you’d just said. You both laughed until you caught Harrys hand on your cheek and moved it so you could plant a soft kiss to his palm. “Thank you for making me feel home.” You smiled, new tears forming in both yours and his now.

“Thank you for being my home.” He replied, smiling through the light tears.

“Stop crying,” you laughed through your own tears, reaching out your other hand to wipe his away, “not very rockstar of you.”

“Can’t help myself when i’m so proud of you.” He answered, moving his hand off his guitar so he could help wipe your tears away. Both of you were helping each other recover, forgetting about the world just for a minute to have a moment with each other. You both deserved that much.

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lolita-lollipop · 3 years

Note

Omg wait! I love the part 2, but can I ask for another alternate!! Like what if they’re just stuck, but they still need to feed, so when someone moves into the apartment, they lock her up in a room temporarily so they can get the new kid. Maybe Izuku, but then they meet, when Izuku finds their room or they try to escape or something? Would they escape? Would the family catch them? How would they react? Please!!

PART 3- YANEERE ERASERMIC FAMILY CORALINE AU X READER

- I guess this is a continuation (?) kinda.

———————————————————————

You’ve been dancing with midoria in the kitchen, just a slow stepping g dance, one you might see at a school dance when a slow song comes on. It was pure euphoria, peaceful, and calm, you just loved him so much, and now you finally have the chance to be with him forever. You let a smile break ok your face as he spun you around in the air, giggling like a schoolgirl, this was perfect. Perfection falls way to quickly.

“You know, I wish we could stay like this forever, I love yo-“ he started, holding you close, not before a loud crashing noise could be heard across the house, the sound of a shattering glass, and both of you turned. You were warned of the wildlife in the area, bears, elk, maybe even deer, you sighed, letting go of his hands, making your way towards the house. Your been here for what? 3 hours? And there’s already an occurrence, just your luck too, it ruined the moment.

“Gimme a sec babe, I’ll be back, just gonna go shoo it out of the house.” You warned, you’d seen horrors great and small, a little deer couldn’t scare you, could startle you heavily, sure, but not strike real fear in your bones. He muttered an”okay” before goin back to stirring the skillet of food, also annoyed by the sudden disturbance. You turned the doorknob, displaying a nursery, preparation for the future. The window right above the creme colored crib was shattered completely, spread around the floor. Yet no animal, just a broken window, you raised a brow, bending down to touch it, then, yeh door behind you slammed shut, and you gave a laugh.

“IZUKU! Quit playing around!” You yelled, and went to turn the doorknob so you could go hug you husband again. But it wouldn’t budge, and that smile was wiped straight off your face, you couldn’t hear him laughing, nor could you hear his footdeps, what’s going on?

“What are you talking abou-“ he started up, yelling back at you from the kitchen, but he was cut off before he could continue, a loud clanging sound could be heard, then nothing more. You panicked looking around, someone was in your house, right? There’s no other explanation, you tugged at the doorknob, pulling it as hard as you could, before it just came off, now you’re really locked in here.

“You know, we’ve been waiting for you” a voice echoed behind you, it made your spine crawl with a familiar sensation, you know who taht is, you’re just hoping you’re wrong. You paused for a moment, not moving a muscle, then turned around, meeting buttons to eyes. And so, you screamed. The man who claimed his title of “father” had been standing in front of you, reaching his hand out touch you. You made a dash towards the shattered window, of yoj could hop through it then you could go around and get out. Failing though, as he had his hand wrapped around your shirt, his fist bale led up in the fabric, he yanked you back, pulling you into his chest.

“GET OFF OF ME, DONT TOU H ME YOU MONSTER.” You screamed at him, clawing at his hands, a scream resonated form outside the door, Clearly belonging to your husband, which jsut amde your movements more panicked, you kicked at his legs, bit his shoulder as hard as you could, scratched him, rammed your head into his chest, everything. You were NOT going to do this again. How did they even get here? Where did he come from?

“You Need to calm down honey, you will hurt yourself” he spoke, completely unaffected by your attacks, he pulled your head into his chest to shush you, this time around, they had been prepared, it was a mere coincidence that you had been in this house, but to then it seemed like fate, earlier in the day someone had knocked over the shelf standing in front of the door, so it was fairly easy for them to get out, just to see you, little you, dancing with a nasty man.

His blood boiled, you left them just to do exactly what they forbade you form doing? You’re married? No, no way. That boy is as good as dead, at least he’ll have a meal.

“Cmon, you didn’t really think we’d let you leave us, you’re just too little to understand, oh I know, we’re protecting you. So please don’t cry baby, don’t be sad, we have a suprise for you when we get home” he spoke, dragging you flailing figure closer to the wall, bending down to open up the door again, you continued screaming, grasping at anything to fight back with, anything. You ended up grabbing the closest thing to you, a plushie.

you grabbed a fucking plushie to fight off a man twice your size

He shoved you into the interlocking hallway, shutting the door right behind him and l I king it, licking you in there. The only other way out would be through the other door, leading to the other side, to the “other home”. You sobbed, letting the panic fully overtake you, crawling fowrard and sitting in the middle, curling up in a ball, you cried, the door was locked, and you’re on the wrong side of it, with a stupid plushie as self defense. There isn’t any way out, how did you not notice the small door and get the hell out! Why hadn’t you noticed it? You could’ve avoided this! All of it!

All you could manage to hear through the thick wooden door on the other side were one sided screams, each made you curl up further, in pure agony, each and every last one made more tears aris eto the brink of your eyes, you knew, oh you knew so well that he wasn’t okay, yet you could do nothing about it, you hate this, you hate this helplessness, you hate them.

Then, the screams silenced, and the door Clicked open again, you made yet another attempt at dashing through the opening, and failed again , when your other father grasped your shoudler, pulling you right back. Hizashi hushed you, the hallway had heightened quite the bit, enough so that they could fit comfortably, he swung you off your feet, pulling you close.

“Oh don’t be like that, I know you’re upset, but there isn’t a reason to pout, let’s get you back home, this time, you aren’t leaving. Oh god you’ve grown too much, your still my little baby girl forever, don’t worry.” He cooed, walking with your squirming figure to the opposite side of the hallway, his husband was holding a bag of… um, remains, from that scum from earlier, eri was gonna have to eat. He almost cried at how cute you looked, even with the tarts, you’re just holding. A cute little stuffed animal, all sweet, his little baby.

“You’re insane, I don’t belong here- not with you” you hissed, trying to bite his hand off when he caressed your face, then bent down to open that door, that dreaded little door. Just to reveal the same thing that haunted your nightmares , the same rooms you spent being forced to cuddle and color, the place that you’ve been avoiding the past three years, your “other” home.

“Don’t say that, oh- KIDS! Your little sister did back!” Aizawa yelled, you could once again, hear the puttering of footsteps upstaira, as you did your first day here. You looked back at your “fathers” giving them one last tearful glance, silently begging them to let you go. It was so perfect just moment ago, why does this always happen to you? It was so, so perfect.

You should’ve known by now to realize that perfection, gets shattered with just a touch of a button

———————————————————————————————————

Thank you for requesting! It was super fun to do!

I got my inbox to work again! So I can see new asks, it started acting weird this morning, but I fixed it, so we’re all good!

Have a wonderful day today! Goodbye!

#yandere aizawa #yandere erasermic x reader #yandere erasmic #yandere erasermic family #yandere eraserhead #yandere hizashi yamada #soft yandere shinso #yandere eri #yandere shinso #platonic yandere #platonic obsession #yandere platonic

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painless-innit-colourful · 3 years

Text

'Blind Trust'

AU where Tommy loses his memory temporarily on being resurrected, and when he leaves the prison, he has no idea who he is or who he can trust. Tubbo's nowhere to be found (not that he even knows him). Jack wants him dead. Ranboo's the only one he feels safe with. TW for vague references to the abuse of the exile/prison arc, and a bit of blood.

Something happened to him, he’s pretty sure.

He remembers pain. He remembers fear. He remembers a feeling beyond both of those things, a ripping sensation, a great agony, a fearsome sense of loss. He seems to remember a feeling like being ripped apart, and then reassembled, only like it happened a hundred times, fracturing him to pieces, nothing but apathy for any parts of him lost along the way. He thinks he knows what it’s like to be caught in a seemingly endless cycle of neither existing or not. The ache in his bones, the pounding in his skull, the itchy tremor beneath his skin - he imagines this is what death feels like. He imagines that he’s known death, tasted it, danced in its cold hold, and somehow, evaded it, somehow let go.

But that would be crazy.

Only there’s one more major issue.

Whatever happened, he can’t remember.

Panic rises; he pushes against it, disliking the familiar sensation of drowning. He takes stock of what he does know. The green man he was trapped with, he’s not nice. The green man that let him out… He’s not nice either. Without even knowing why, he’d stood, shaking violently next to his rescuer, and whispered “You left me. You left me in there with him.” He can’t even remember if that’s true.

There are items in his pockets, things in the tatty backpack on his back. He has food. He has blocks. There are no books, no labels in the clothes, no receipts or cards or papers. Nothing that tells him anything about who he was. Is. The items are too heavy, too many random things, what’s he gonna do with all this random paraphernalia? Too much, too little. Nothing that he feels any immediate attraction or attachment to. Nothing that gives him a clue as to who he is. If he’s anyone at all.

There’s a trident, mixed in with the assortment of random blocks. He puts the bag back on his shoulders and holds it with one hand, weighing it against nothing but the pain in his heart. It evokes a lonely feeling. It smells like salty water. It tastes like tears.

He soars through the air, and if he closes his eyes, he’s somewhere else, flying over a calm sapphire ocean. The water is still, the air is heavy, the stars are so near. He’s one of them, part of the sky, just another light for the uncaring mortals below, going about their business as if nothing has changed, as if he wasn’t once part of their society and now he’s nothing but dust, no tears shed, no love lost, as if he never mattered, as if he won’t be missed-

The ground reaches up to meet him, and he crashes into its embrace, and something inside him is terribly, terribly broken. He can’t have been like this before, whoever he was. There’s blood, bloody fingers touching a scrape the length of his back, and it seems to multiply, running down his forearms, over his eyes, pooling beneath him as if to pronounce him dead then and there. He scrambles away, and it reaches for him, tendrils like vines trying to claim him, undo him already. He’s been reborn, delivered from whoever this body belonged to before to this new life, but whatever has given him the chance is already taking back their gift. He rifles through the backpack looking for something to wrap around his wound, something to hide the bloodstains, something to make it go away, please make it go away-

He comes up with a high vis jacket - bloody hell, was he a lollipop man? - and it’s barely anything but it certainly distracts from the crimson, so it’ll do. His trousers are stained an unnecessary shade of red, and he’s panting with an unnecessary terror. He isn’t under attack. He isn’t being attacked. He isn’t going to be killed.

With an uneasiness that feels unearned, he walks along the wooden path ahead of him, away from the imposing black building that threatens to suffocate him with helplessness everytime he looks at it. There’s a petite, yellow building decorated with purple flowers, round like globes and sweetly-fragranced. He reaches out to touch one, to hold it in his hand, and it seems to disintegrate between his fingers, a tiny explosion of colour that withers into nothing like a candle being extinguished. He steps away quickly before it starts turning red too.

Speaking of red, he backs directly into the perimeter fence of a ruby-red monolith, striped and vaguely-rectangular in shape. He’s about to turn and retreat from that too (before he breaks anything else), when he spots a man, standing stoically by the door, wearing a high vis jacket. Before he knows it, the boy is pushing through the fence and approaching with a vain curiosity. ‘You’re dressed like me!’ He wants to call out, because this man is the first that doesn’t immediately strike him with the urge to run for his life.

Confusingly, the man doesn’t react immediately to his approach, gaze directed ahead with a thousand yard stare. He is surprised, naturally, when the man’s head turns sharply and looks him in the eyes. “WELCOME BACK TO THE BIG INNIT HOTEL TOMMYINNIT!! IT IS GOOD TO SEE YOU AGAIN…”

“AAH-!” He shrieks, flailing violently backwards and falling on his ass. His breath comes out in short pants.

“YOU SURE WERE GONE A WHILE TOMMYINNIT… WE MISSED YOU…”

Was that his name? What is this crazy guy talking about? The words were summoning scraps of memories that reached out to each other, trying to build bridges and webs between each other, colouring the gaps between themselves with bright blues and warm greens and soothing beiges; yet the webs collapsed as soon as they formed, like they were made by the world’s most ineffective spider. At least he knows he had once belonged here now…

“What are you making a fuss abou-” From the building emerges a nearly bald man wearing hi-tech glasses, and the boy is hit with two knee-jerk reactions. The first one, a sense of camaraderie, the urge to smile and joke and tease. And the second is the blaring of his danger sense like a nuclear siren, screaming at him to run, get away, get away quick and hide.

“What the f-” The man roughly taps the blue side of his glasses, leering at the boy. “...No- What the fuck.”

“I don’t know anything!” The boy throws his hands up, instinctual surrender. “I don’t have anything!”

“What are you-”

“Why are you saying that?” He squeaks, fear clogging his throat.

The man swipes his hands through the air, cutting the boy off. “No, shut- Bigger elephant in the room, why are you alive?”

He freezes, his body dumping all the adrenaline he thought a boy his size could hold into his bloodstream, his limbs tensing to sprint away. Any second now the weapons would come out, the red would return, he can’t do this, he can’t do this, he can’t do this-

“You’re dead- You’re dead! You died!” The man’s voice is rising until he's almost shouting, yet the frightened boy stops backing away, because something doesn’t make sense, this doesn’t seem like a threat- No, this is- this-

“I grieved for you.” Their eyes meet, and despite the statement, the glare from behind the red and blue lenses is cold and unforgiving, and it sends a shiver through him. “You’re not back.”

“I- I don’t know what you mean…” He raises his hands defensively, but instead of swinging, the man just laughs with a sound like rolling thunder.

“Oh don’t play dumb with me Tommy. No one comes back-” He catches himself. “I mean, most people don’t come back.”

“I- I don’t understand…” He mutters. “I… died?”

The man crosses his arms, scoffing with immense disapproval and scorn. “You wanna speak up? Or d’you want to keep playing stupid? Because I’m not an idiot Tommy. Do you take me for a fool?”

“I don’t know what’s going on!” His hoarse whisper comes out as a shout, and his hands fly to his hair, gripping the strands like they're a rope someone would use to rescue him. “I can’t remember what’s happened, and you keep saying I’ve- died- and nothing makes sense and I don’t even know who you are…” His voice cracks and breaks as he struggles to get the words out, process their meaning, determine their level of truth. Then it shatters, dropping to barely above a whisper again as his knees shake with the effort of keeping him on his feet. He chances a glance at the man’s expression, apprehensively waiting for his judgement, and is met with a glare to rival Medusa’s.

“You don’t know who I am.” His tone is level, and yet, threat runs through it like a river, threatening to catch him in the rapids, pull him under and fill his lungs full of lies, or his own blood, or worse. The man reaches up to push his glasses back up his nose, and the boy flinches back onto the main path. “You are so… selfish.” He opens his mouth to counter, but no sound comes out. “You’re selfish! Shit like this… This is why you deserved this. This is why you should’ve stayed dead.”

Why does that hurt so much? He wants to reach through the fog in his mind, knock down the walls and see this man as he should’ve. Their history- It's all in there somewhere! Somewhere, locked away, inaccessible, painfully so. He hugs his arms to his chest, they are already bloody, he realises, the bandages to protect his bleeding heart.

“I mourned you! I grieved for you, and now I remember why I wanted you dead.”

That's it, he’s gone, he's scrambling along the path, he’s clumsily vaulting the gate, grazing his knees, tears staining his cheeks, hands gripping his sides, nails breaking skin, heart and feet thudding the rhythm to a song he barely remembers, ‘Stay alive, stay alive-’

Terrified and confused and so, so weary, he runs until he can no longer see the black building, or the yellow one with the flowers, or the red one that feels so familiar in a hopeless way. He follows the hills and dips of the wooden path, feet falling into familiar grooves as he winds along the peaks and troughs, past peculiar buildings and strange establishments. Eyes watch him as he goes, their murmured exchanges commenting on his appearance or his desperation or no doubt what he’s done, what he can’t remember, how bad he’s been. He’s a freak, he thinks he hears someone say. There’s more red: twirling vines undulating down towers or wrapping tendrils around infrastructure. It reaches for him; it beckons to him with a hissing voice. He dashes harder: he wants away. From everything, and everyone.

He runs until his lungs hurt, until his legs are screaming at him to stop, and he all but collapses outside a brick house. He’s on his hands and knees, although he doesn’t remember falling, and he touches his head to the floor like he’s praying, and that’s when he hears the solitary voice:

“Tommy?”

Oh shit a brick.

“Please- I’ll go, please just- Let me go-” The words barely make it past his raw throat. His eyes meet that of the enderboy’s ahead of him, and he feels frozen to the spot, and it sends another shot of panic through him. He doesn’t know how much more he can take. “Please- Just let me go.”

The boy with his half-and-half complexion and fascinating eyes approaches, palms facing Tommy - for that’s got to be his name by now - like he’s closing in on a skittish cat. “You’re- Oh… You’re-” He’s slack-jawed, and then he suddenly snaps out of whatever awed trance he’s slipping into, and comes even closer. “Tommy? Are you alright? It’s only me, it’s-” He seems to cringe slightly, for some reason. “-It’s Ranboo.”

“Ranboo.” His mouth forms the word, tastes it. It tastes… sweet. Not sweet like honey but like… a cake. Time slows, the world stops spinning like a top, and the ground settles beneath Tommy. There are no warning sirens harmonising with this boy. His heart rate slows gradually as the much taller boy crouches by his side. “You’re- You’re here…”

“Ranboo,” He says quietly. “Why is everyone looking at me like I just came back from the dead?” The question echoes in the immediate quiet, and he fears the answer to an irrational degree. “Um…” Promising start. “Obviously you know what happened, I mean- Or what everyone thinks.” He amends on catching sight of Tommy’s changing face, as his heart sinks further towards his stomach.

“Ranboo.” He takes a shaky breath. “I can’t remember anything before- before- before the big black building and some green fucker- I don’t know what happened, I don’t know why people hate me, I don’t know what’s going on-!”

“Whoa, okay.” One of Ranboo’s hands, the black one, lands on his side, the touch sending an involuntary shiver through him. “Do you… Do you remember me?”

The question is innocent enough, but all the muscles in Tommy’s body tense again, preparing themselves for the next mad dash downtown. There seems to be a terminal ahead, he could change direction and lose him-

“N- No.”

“Right, okay,” The older boy chuckles to himself. “That explains a lot actually.” Tommy’s danger sense flickers. “What- What do you mean?”

Ranboo’s smile is not cruel, nor does it inspire machiavelli; it’s kindly and soothing. “You and I… We have an on-off friendship. I don’t think you’ve properly decided whether you like me or not.”

“Why don’t I like you?”

He shrugs, looking bemused. “Would you believe me if I said I have memory problems too?”

And Tommy actually chuckles at that. “Maybe.” He swipes at some of the tears drying tracks into his face. Ranboo watches the motion intently. “...Are you okay?”

“I-” He pauses, a thousand answers taking their turn on the end of his tongue, before what comes out is: “No. I don’t remember anything, I barely know my own name, I- people hate me and I don’t know why, and- Everything hurts. Listen to me, Ranboo, I have these terrible- like, flashes of something, where everything hurts and it feels like I’m being ripped apart but the whole world is dark and cold and- and-”

The whole world is not dark and cold, though the outside of Ranboo’s jacket is. It must look a peculiar sight, he supposes, one teenager holding another, both sitting down on a public highway, but it’s happening.

It’s happening, he realises. It’s real. Someone’s holding him.

...Okay.

“You’re alright.” Ranboo murmurs, and Tommy leans into the hug, bringing his arms up to place weakly around Ranboo’s middle. “You’re okay, you’re alright.” The words surround them in the quiet, sentinels standing guard against the rest of the world.

“I’m not.” He replies involuntarily.

“Okay.” Ranboo concedes. “But you will be.”

A long moment passes, and then Tommy speaks again, for a reason he can’t grasp. “Ranboo, I- don’t seem like a very good person. This guy - I think I used to know him - he called me selfish, told me he wished I’d stayed dead. I don’t think people… like me very much.” But to that, Ranboo only shrugs.

“I wouldn’t believe that.”

“Why not?”

“You’re a bit rough around the edges, but you’re alright really.”

“I’m alright?”

“You’re human. As messy and mortal as us all.”

It’s as if in that moment, the floodgates open. Tommy suddenly remembers himself. He knows the pattern of the flag of L’Manberg, he knows Tubbo’s preferred way of having his coffee (no milk, two sugars), he knows Wilbur’s favourite songs and which ones Techno will throw a sword at you for singing. He knows - partially - why Jack hates him, and incidentally, who Jack is. He knows that he died, and how, and what and who he saw beyond, and why he was stuck there in the first place. And he knows all the details of his complicated relationship with the boy whose arms he’s currently occupying.

And he pushes it all away. He snuggles closer to Ranboo, closes his eyes, and leaves it for later, logical operation be damned.

Turns out a blind instinct can be right.

#hi and welcome to 'fic editing on a phone is a PAIN'#but hey! this is my life now. exams have begun so i'm editing fics when i should be revising in class #shoutout to pain for putting up with me wanting to strangle the tumblr mobile app just now. her patience. 100 #dream smp #tommyinnit #jack manifold #ranboo #allium duo #crim writes #so i wrote this last night. writing marathon with my sister. and y'know what? i'm da'mn proud a this #so enjoy!#(and please rb/leave comments please and thank you :)#right. mac'beth. what am i doin'?

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celestialrry · 3 years

Text

insecure

summary: Harry doesn't love his nose and you love him.

warnings: body insecurities (Harry), and fluff

Harry was confident. How could he not be after going on multiple stadium tours filled with screaming girls who thought everything he did was attractive? Even after all those years, going solo, and just releasing his sophomore album, he had started to be comfortable in his own skin. He dressed more extravagantly like he wanted to, and became more vulnerable with his music. There were few things he didn't like about himself and fewer things that he didn't like about his physical self.

There was always one that got to him. When you would take a picture of him driving, or hugged him and squeezed his sides, he cringed. Looking back on the photo you took, that you thought was absolutely adorable, a big smile on his face while he was looking at the road ahead, all he could focus on was his nose. He asked himself why it was so big, and why it hooked just the slightest bit downwards. He asked himself why he still had pudge on his sides, love handles, yet worked out extensively everyday and ate more healthy than anyone else he knew. His insecurity about his love handles diminished slightly after you had murmured while half asleep that you loved them. But still, the insecurity around his nose remained.

You were never aware of this. You thought Harry was the most gorgeous creature you had laid eyes upon and he thought of you the same. You had a bit of love handles as well and he absolutely loved them. The two of you had been introduced about a year ago being good friends until feelings were revealed and soon enough you had been dating now for about 7 months. It was bliss, just being in your own world with Harry. So when you woke up one morning and walked into the bathroom to see Harry in his boxers looking at himself in the mirror, eyes glazed over and bottom lip trembling, and touching his face, it was safe to say you were in shock.

Carefully you made your way over to him, making your presence known and he jumped a bit and cleared his throat. "G'morning lovey." He mumbled, the tight lipped smile not reaching his eyes as he kissed you on the forehead and gave you a weak hug.

"What's wrong H?" You asked softly, your hands going to cup his cheeks. He kept his hands on your waist and looked down at you, engulfed in his t-shirt. He sighed, knowing you would pester him about this until he told you, one of the reasons he loved you, but had yet to say it.

"S'stupid, don't worry abou' it." He mumbled, his hands tightening around your love handles, thumbs running over your hips. "Your feelings aren't stupid, H. C'mon." You said, eyes full of concern as you got on your tip toes and gave him a peck on the nose. That did it.

"I hate m'nose." He blurted out, eyes shutting. Your jaw dropped. Harry Styles didn't like his nose. It was one of your favorite things about his face other than, well, his entire face. "Why?" You asked, still in shock, eyes widened.

He opened his eyes to look at you. "I'don't like how it curves, y'know? And I feel like s'a bit big. I told you, s'stupid." He frowned, you thumbs rubbing his cheeks.

"Harry." You began. His eyes widened this time, as you rarely ever called him that. "Your nose is perfect. It fits you so well, and to be honest it's one of my favorite, physical, things about you."

"What?" He asked confused.

"I'm serious," you chuckled a bit. "Have you ever watched one of your interviews or a video of you talking from the side?"

"Try not to." He mumbled.

"You should, because the tip of your nose moves up and down when you talk and it's one of the cutest fucking things I've ever seen." You said, taking your phone you set on the counter and going to record.

"Tell me about yesterday." You ordered, filming his side profile.

"Um, I told you earlier, Mitch and I wen’ to the studio, recorded a cover or two n’knocked out the chords for another song," he began to smile.

"Then I came back home n’called you over," at this point he was smiling like a fool. "And then I fuc-"

"Oh shut up." You blushed, hitting his bicep and ending the video. You made him turn to the mirror to film, so you pulled him around and he made his way behind you, arms wrapping around your waist, and chin on your shoulder as you clicked on the video.

You smiled as you watched it and resisted the urge to turn and see Harry's reaction. "D'you see?" You zoomed in a bit to his nose. "Look how it moves."

You felt his chuckle rumble through as the video ended and you put the phone back on the counter, turning around to face him. "Has no one told you that it moves before?" You asked.

"Nope."

"God, H, that's terrible. There's so many little things about you that I love, almost as much as I love you, and I can't believe you don't like them about yourself because you definitely should." You rambled, not even noticing you had told him those fated 3 words for the first time until after you had stopped talking.

"Oh, I'm so sorry Harry, I-" You began to cover your face out of embarrassment, but he pressed his lips against yours before you could do so, so instead your hand, made their way to his neck.

"I love you." He mumbled, before pressing his lips against yours once more. You smiled into the kiss and pulled away. “I know things like this don’t get fixed overnight but you should love everything about yourself, because if I can love it, you certainly can too.”

“M’god, pet,” He responded, pressing his lips on yours once more. “I love you so fuckin’ much.”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles is beautiful #harry styles and reader

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hawkss-whore · 3 years

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(pic credit: viol_vrt on twt)

At Home Meal (NSFW 18+)

You felt like surprising Hawks today. So you spent hours cooking a nice meal and getting ready. You cleaned the house and set candles around the house. You put on a nice red skin tight dress with your hair up in a ponytail with curls. You didn't put on too much makeup, just a bit of mascara, eye shadow, and lip gloss. You were getting nervous the closer the time came for Hawks to get home. You were looking at your phone constantly, checking the time over and over. Then you heard keys nearby, he was home.

Hawks: Hey babybird, today was a long day-

Hawks just stands at the door looking at you

Y/n: What? Is something wrong?

Hawks: Did- Did you do all of this for me baby?

Y/n: Yeah, I just thought we deserved some romance, we haven't had much of it lately. Do you like it or is it too much? Sorry I just wanted it to be special but I guess I kind of went overboard, I even wore this nice dress but maybe I should have worn something more simple. I'm sorry-

Hawks: No no babybird. I love it. This is amazing, and you look so sexy in that dress like wow. I mean you always look sexy but damn babybird, what did I do to deserve someone like you. This is beautiful, it's perfect.

You sigh, okay good at least he didn't think I was going overboard. You felt yourself relax as the most stressful part already passed. He said he loved it, that's all that mattered.

You both ate the meal you cooked for him. It felt nice, finally being able to be with him. Even if it wasn't at some fancy restaurant, everything felt perfect like if it was a dream, a dream come true. You both laughed and joked around while you ate. It felt like that teenage love, the one where the possibilities are endless and where anything is possible. God you loved him so much. You wished this moment would never end. As you both finished your meal you got up to start washing the dishes and cleaning. As you're starting to wash dishes Hawks comes up behind you and grabs your hips, pulling you towards him.

Y/n: Hawks, stop that. I need to clean up.

Hawks: *he whispers in your ear* The dishes can wait. I'm in the mood for dessert baby

Y/n: Dessert? From where? I didn't make any, wait I can go to the store and buy us some cake or ice cream, Dessert?? How could I forget!

Hawks: *giggles* You are just so adorable aren't you feather? God sometimes I don't know how that innocent little brain of yours ended up falling for me

Y/n: What are you talking abou-

Hawks: *growls in your ear* You're my dessert baby, you and that tasty, soft, sexy body of yours. I want to eat it all up. I wanna taste every inch of you. And it's not fair if only I have dessert, so why don't we both serve each other on a platter and dig in. You like the sound of that baby?

Y/n: I- Right now? Are you sure? Bu-

Hawks kisses you roughly before you can finish your sentence

Hawks: Cmon babybird, let's do less talking and more kissing

Hawks picks you up and sets you on the island in the kitchen. He starts kissing your neck while leaving small hickies behind. God it felt so good. You started breathing fast and moaning softly. I hate how good he is at making me melt in his hands.

Hawks: Already aroused babybird? We haven't even started *chuckles*

Ugh, you hated how much he teased you. But at the same time, you loved it so much. And speaking of teasing, he started to trail his finger, from your chest, to your stomach, to just above your panties. You tensed up. You knew what was coming next.

Hawks: Oh am I getting too close? Do you want me to keep going or to stop here?

You hated when he did that, he knew you wanted him to keep going but he wanted to tease you. He always wanted you to beg for the thing both of you knew you wanted. You let out soft moans, maybe he'll accept that as a yes.

Hawks: I need you to tell me you want it babybird, I wanna hear you say you want my fingers in you

Fuck, you were growing desperate, he was right there why couldn't he just do it? It was starting to stress you out. You NEEDED him to put his fingers inside you. So you did what he said.

Y/n: Please, finger me daddy. Please I beg you, I need your fingers inside me. I'm desperate for your touch.

Hawks: *grins* That's more like it babybird

He starts fingering you. You try to hold back the moans, but it's so hard. He starts with one finger then not long after slides a second one in. God it felt so good. He kisses your neck as he continues to finger you. You are struggling to keep yourself under control, to keep yourself from screaming from satisfaction.

Hawks: Aww cmon songbird. Let me hear that beautiful song of yours. I wanna hear every single note. I want to know that you like this. Doesn't matter who hears, I won't stop till you scream my name as your cumming.

Fuck. You knew he was serious. He wouldn't let you cum until you were screaming his name. What if the neighbors hear? How would they look at me? God that would be so embarrassing. But we can worry about that when it happens, because right now I don't think I could be quiet even if I tried to. God this man knows how to use his fingers.

Your moans started to escape your mouth, they spilled out of your mouth as you stopped trying to hold them back. You were so loud they probably heard you outside. But you didn't care, because you felt so good right now.

Hawks: God baby you are so sexy. I think I want a taste of that. Don't mind if I do.

Hawks starts kissing you, slowly making his way down to where his fingers were. You twitched the closer his mouth got to its destination. You waited, he was taking his time on purpose. You wanted to just push his head down to speed up the process, but you knew it'd be worse for you than him if you did that. So you waited for what felt like a lifetime. Of course, he can't do anything without teasing you first.

Hawks: Do you feel how close I am babybird? Do you feel my hot breath on your inner thighs? Oh twitching? Are you that desperate for my tongue baby? Should I keep going? Or should I-

You couldn't wait anymore, you got impatient. You crossed your legs and pushed hawks face into your pussy. Cutting him off before he could even finish what he was gonna say. You might get in trouble but right now, you NEEDED his tongue in you. Whatever happens later, whatever punishment you get doesn't matter. Right now you needed this.

Hawks: Wow songbird, awfully needy aren't you? I'll let it slide this one time. I love how desperate you are for my touch. I love that right now, i'm the only one who can get you to cum. So, don't mind if I do.

He continues to tongue fuck you, it felt so good. Your eyes were rolling in the back of your head. Wow that man sure can use his tongue for something more useful than talking. You couldn't contain yourself. You were struggling to stay still. This gave Hawks more confidence, knowing you were falling apart right in front of him because of what he was doing.

Y/n: I- I'm going to cum

Hawks: Oh are you now songbird? Then let's speed the process up shall we?

Y/n: Yes, please daddy make me cum. I beg you. I'm so close. Please jus-

You came. It felt amazing. Your eyes were rolling in the back of your head. You were struggling to breathe. Wow that was just amazing. You felt like every bit of energy was just drained from you.

Hawks: Oh kid, were not done here. That was just the beginning.

Hawks picks you up and carries you to the bedroom. You were so tired. But I still wanted more. You wanted to feel every part of his body on you. You wanted to return the favor and make him feel good.

Hawks: Now, how about we shut that mouth of yours with my cock

He didn't let you answer. He quickly picked you up. You were now standing in 69 position.

Hawks: Now, why don't you suck my cock with that pretty face of yours feather?

You do. You start sucking his dick. You use both hands as well. You want to show him what you can really do. You can hear him moaning. It felt so good knowing he was moaning because of you. You feel his breathing against your inner thighs, no he can't be serious. He starts tongue fucking you again.

Y/n: Hawks no. I can't take it. I already cummed once I can't take anymor-

You were cut off by your own moans escaping from your mouth

Hawks: This is punishment for forcing me to eat you out like that earlier. Don't get me wrong it turned me on but i'd like to do things at my pace. You didn't actually think i'd let it slide now did you babybird? Even a bird brain would know that. Wow look at that, still dripping wet. Let me clean that up for you

Fuck! You knew he wasn't gonna let it slide. But god was it so hot. You sucking his dick while he's eating your pussy. The room was filled with moans.

Not long after, you were both on the verge of orgasming. Then, it happened. You both orgasmed at the same time. Wow did it feel amazing. You both were out of breath, struggling to breathe.

Hawks: Wow songbird, didn't know you had that in you. Now, how about I put something else in that pussy of yours huh?

Y/n: O-okay

Hawks: Do you not want me to kid? Cause to me it sounds like you don't want me to. I won't give you something you don't want. So if you do want it, beg. Beg for me to fuck you so hard you can't walk tomorrow.

Why does he always have to tease? It's so annoying. But boy does he look so hot when he does. The dominance. Knowing he could do anything and that you were his and only his. Ugh he was just so damn sexy and irresistible.

Y/n: Yes daddy. Please f- fuck my pussy. Fuck me so hard that I can't walk. Please, I beg you.

Hawks: That's more like it

He throws you on the bed and quickly climbs on top of you. And without hesitation, he puts his cock inside of you. You flinch at first, but god did it feel good. It was pain and pleasure at the same time. You thought to yourself, I can't orgasm 3 times, I will lose my mind.

Hawks: How do you like that babybird? Why don't you sing me that song of yours again. I wanna hear it echoing through the room. I wanna hear you screaming baby, won't you do that for daddy?

Y/n: *shaky breath* Y- yes D- daddy

Hawks: That's a good songbird. I'm gonna fuck you till you can't walk. I'm gonna have to carry you everywhere after this. I am gonna destroy you kid.

Oh it was so hot when he was dominant. When he spoke about destroying you. Wow, you were struggling to even think straight at this point. You were a mess, the mascara running down your face, you drooling and struggling to breathe. It was all a beautiful mess.

You were both about to cum again. You can tell he was because you felt his cock pulsating like it did when he was about to cum. And he could tell you were too, he felt your pussy tightening around his cock as you got close to your orgasm.

Hawks: Aww fuck babybird! I can feel it, you need to cum too right? Well cum, cum for daddy. Let's cum together kid. God, I'm so close! I-

And just like that, You both cummed at the same time again. You were so tired, you quickly felt your limbs fall. That was a wild ride. You felt so good.

Hawks: FUCK BABYBIRD! You sure know how to milk a cock dry. How did I get so lucky with such a beautiful girl who has such a sexy body? I just wanna kiss every single part of that sweet body of yours. But right now, I think we're both pretty tired out. I know I am.

Y/n: Yeah. But what about the dishes, we left everything out I should go clean it up-

Hawks: Shhh we can do that tomorrow babybird, right now I just want to cuddle you. I want to hold you and play with your hair. You deserve some love after what you just did cause wow baby, you were amazing. I love you for more than just your body, you know that right kid?

Y/n: I know

Hawks: I want you to know that I don't need sex, sure its definitely a plus being able to have sex with you. But I don't need it. What I need is you, your love, your hugs, your smile, your laugh, that's what I need from you. All of that is better than sex. Now, come get closer, let me hold you babybird

You scoot over to hawks side of the bed. You lay on his chest, you can feel his heartbeat, it's not racing as fast as it was before. Yours still was, I mean I did orgasm 3 times. I don't even know how i'm holding myself together right now.

Hawks tells you as he lightly scratches your back

Hawks: I love you kid. And I know I already said it but I will say it a million more times if I have to. You really are the most important person to me baby, I never wanna lose you. Now, let's get some sleep okay baby. Just relax, I'm here, by your side. And I will be here by your side, for the rest of forever.

He kisses your forehead. You felt so safe. I wish everyday was like this. Not the rough sex, although I wouldn't mind it. But being here, in his arms. It's a feeling I can't explain. It's a feeling I never wanna forget.

In just a few minutes you both ended up falling asleep. Well, another wild day has come to an end. Ugh I love him so much. I don't think I could ever find someone like him again.

#hawks mha #keigo takami #hawks fanfic #mha fanfiction #hawks x y/n #mha hawks #hawks x you #bnha keigo

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indigowallbreaker · 3 years

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“The Alias Of My Enemy Is My Friend”

(here’s the ao3 version!)

All the works for Edelclaude week have just been so amazing. I’m in awe of everyone’s talent-- you are all the reason I wrote this. It’s (very very) late but the week’s not done for a few more hours! Here’s Day 2: Masks/Memory!

[post-Golden Deer route spoilers, if you squint you can see some Ferdibert]

Garreg Mach Monastery had never shined brighter. Sigrrúna stared around the reception hall, a nostalgic smile on her face. Not that anyone could see it— like the rest of the guests, her face was covered by a mask. Hers was pale green with a variegated carnation encircling one eye. Next to the other masks in the room it felt a bit plain, but Sigrrúna was satisfied with her choice— carnations were her favorite, after all.

The decision to attend this celebration had been rather last minute anyway. Pursuing the perfect mask would have taken time away from securing an appropriate gown. Sigrrúna wandered between guests in a floor length dress that covered her in elegant lace from waist to neck. Ferdinand had said the dress was rose petal pink. Henry had argued it was clearly blush. Sigrrúna had told them both to shut up and dragged Constance to another stall.

Free from them all for a moment, Sigrrúna was able to take in Garreg Mach in peace and quiet. Much had gone into restoring the monastery and Officers Academy since the war ended five years before. The marketplace flourished, the cathedral had been redone, roofs had been patched. Even the tea garden’s furniture had been repainted. As much as this was still the school from her youth, Sigrrúna could tell it was ready for the next generation.

New paintings adorned the mended stone walls of the reception hall— some of battles from the war, some of the continent’s new rulers. Sigrrúna stopped beside a portrait of Claude von Riegan, painted before the public knew of his royal blood across the Throat. He really was quite handsome. Sigrrúna knew he was somewhere in this very hall— she wondered what mask he wore tonight.

The dance floor in the center of the hall brought back memories as well. Despite Henry sending a cold stare at anyone who came near, Sigrrúna had danced with a good many fellow students across that floor. Claude himself had ignored Henry altogether and asked her for a dance. His steps had not been as sure as hers, but it had been nice to stand close without a weapon in her hand or a cutting comment on her tongue. To coax a genuine smile onto Claude’s face and laugh unguarded. Just for a song or two.

A sudden cheer made Sigrrúna look around. Onto the dance floor, amid tumultuous applause, stepped King Khalid of Almyra and Queen Byleth of the United Kingdom of Fódlan. They could be no one else— King Khalid’s mask left the bottom of his face exposed, showing his tan skin and dark beard, and Queen Byleth’s hair practically glowed an unearthly green in the torchlight.

The pair bowed to the crowd before turning to one another and beginning a waltz. Sigrrúna and Henry had been living on the outside of society for the past five years— most of their political news came from Ferdinand or Constance— but even they had heard the rumors surrounding Khalid and Byleth’s relationship. Ferdinand swore up and down that there was only respect and trust between them. Nothing romantic in the least. But watching them now, perfectly in sync as Khalid guided them under the eyes of all Fódlan’s elite, Sigrrúna was more inclined to believe the rumors.

Eventually the song ended, and others flocked forward to ask for a dance from those who had slain both Emperor Edelgard and the Fell King Nemesis. Sigrrúna held back, content to observe and listen.

Perhaps coming here had been too great a risk for too little gain, Sigrrúna reflected as King Khalid danced with a giggling woman with pink hair and a glittering fuchsia mask. All Sigrrúna had wanted was one night to glimpse old classmates and see how they had rebuilt their lives in this new Fódlan, maybe overhear a conversation about what Almyra was really like or how, exactly, Khalid had opened trade between the two counties.

But as another song wound down, Sigrrúna began scanning the hall for Henry instead, intending to signal that it was time for them to leave. Apart from the excuse to spend a relatively safe night out with Ferdinand, Henry hadn’t liked this plan anyway. The hour was late enough that they could leave without arousing suspicion.

Sigrrúna’s eyes swept the dance floor in her search— and landed on King Khalid, who was looking her way. She couldn’t see his eyes from this distance but she could feel his gaze acutely. He marched right up to her and held out his hand. “Would you care for a dance?”

He couldn’t possibly know. This was the first time Sigrrúna had seen him all night— the first time in five years in fact. Accepting his invitation would complicate the evening exponentially, but to refuse would draw attention.

With a nod— fearing her voice might give her away— Sigrrúna took his hand and let King Khalid walk her onto the dance floor. He spun her into his arms and led them into the next song without hesitation. “Enjoying yourself?” He asked lightly, one hand on her waist and the other holding her hand up beside them. Sigrrúna nodded again, distracted by the easy way he held her. He was much more confident than back during their first dance.

“It was my idea to make this little anniversary a masquerade, did you know? I was kind of hoping you would show up.”

Impossible. This had to be a bluff.

“Probably the definition of a long shot but I’m glad it worked.”

Could he really be implying—

“Come on, Princess, no one can hear us out here.”

“You are absolutely insufferable.”

Claude laughed, showing that dazzling smile and making his golden Almyran outfit shine all the brighter. Edelgard couldn’t help but laugh as well. All their anxiety over tonight— and Claude knew anyway. Of course he did.

Suddenly the hours of planning, firming up their false identities, forging extra invitations, and convincing Hubert this was a good idea felt justified. Anyone finding them out had been considered the worst case scenario, but somehow relaxing into Claude’s arms made Edelgard the happiest she had been in years.

“Please don’t tell me you have been saying that to everyone in the hopes of finding me,” Edelgard said through a grin.

Claude’s smile had yet to fade. “Nah. I had Hilda keeping an ear out. And that mask kind of gives you away.”

“I hardly see what my mask could tell you. Many people like carnations.”

“Yeah, but I know they’re your favorite. Whenever I thought about you coming here, this is just the mask I imagined you having. Much better by far than that Flame Emperor one.”

Edelgard felt her face flush but she couldn’t afford to get distracted so quickly just yet. “But how could you even know to look for me?” She protested. “Not many people know I am alive, and I have never counted you among them.”

“Something felt off about that fight in Enbarr. Call me crazy but I’ve been hoping you survived somehow.” Claude twirled Edelgard briefly before pulling her back even closer than before. They were chest to chest now. Edelgard could feel him chuckle. “It’s probably not something you’re supposed to hope for, is it? That your enemy made it through the fight in one piece.”

“It is unusual, to be sure.” Edelgard caught a glimpse of Hubert in his black-feather mask at the edge of the dance floor. She minutely shook her head. He nodded, and disappeared again.

“I would have worked alongside you, you know.”

Claude’s change in tone caused Edelgard’s heart to hit her rib cage. She wondered if he could feel that. She didn’t speak as he continued, “You were right, our goals were very similar. We could have done better together than apart. Saved some lives…” He let out a sigh that tickled her shortened hair.

“Circumstances back then were… not ideal for team work.” Edelgard cut herself off as the song ended. Claude showed no sign of wanting to stop, so they danced right into the next one. “If I had known 10 years ago what I know now— if I had known how well you would care for Fódlan in my stead, then maybe I would have reached out my hand.” Against her better judgement, Edelgard lay her cheek on his shoulder. “But what’s done is done. Thanks to you and the Professor, my life is much more peaceful now anyway.”

Claude rested his chin on top of her head. For a moment, for a fanciful moment, Edelgard wondered if they looked like a couple. If they looked anything like Claude and Byleth had earlier.

The hand at her waist moved to her lower back. Claude rubbed his thumb there almost soothingly. “We could still do it,” he said. His voice was quiet. “Come with me to Almyra. I’ll even let you bring… whoever knows you’re alive.”

“I don’t think Henry would like that idea.”

Claude snorted. “I knew it. And he had the nerve to write a “If you’re reading this I must be dead” letter.”

Edelgard giggled. “There was no guarantee our plan would work. Be nice.”

“I’ll make an effort. Anyway, you can bring him. No one knows who you are over there. You wouldn’t have to hide. And we could scale the walls of the world together.”

It was beyond tempting. Edelgard dropped Claude’s hand to wrap her arms around his neck. They were swaying more than dancing at this point but no one seemed to care. Being the King of Almyra and a war hero had its perks— no one told you or the mysterious woman you were with to move. Claude held her with both arms around the middle. Into his neck, Edelgard murmured. “I can’t.”

His hold tightened. “Why not?”

“It would be selfish. To uproot our lives when I don’t know how much longer I have…”

“You’re the same as Lysithea, aren’t you?” Edelgard nodded. Claude cursed. “Had a feeling. Well, we’ll just redouble our efforts to find a cure.”

Edelgard pulled her head back to see the determined line of his mouth, the stubborn set of his jaw. “You can’t possibly think you can ‘cure’ our blood,” she said.

A defiant smirk took his face. “They put it in there. We can take it out. It’s that simple.”

“It’s impossible.”

“You’re alive, aren’t you?” The smirk became a smile once again. “That means anything is possible.”

She was, wasn’t she? Alive and attending a party meant, in part, to celebrate her death. Bittersweet miracles.

The last notes of the music died away. Claude stepped back and took her hand. “Shall we move this discussion elsewhere?”

“Where did you have in mind?”

“There’s a Tower I’ve had my eye on for years now.”

Edelgard knew Hubert would be at the bottom of the staircase the whole time, likely with a concerned Ferdinand and without a socializing Constance. If this were a trap, though Edelgard had a hard time believing it could be, then help would be close at hand. With that in mind, Edelgard convinced herself to say, “Shall we, then?”

Claude smiled and bowed low. He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand— and almost at once, there was a commotion on the other side of the hall. Guests were flocking towards someone with noises of concern. Claude grabbed Edelgard’s arm and pulled her towards the steps. “That was a signal for Teach,” he whispered. “People can’t resist a fainting maiden.”

Edelgard snorted. “A maiden?”

“She’s gotten better at acting over the years. Let’s go.”

Not far away, unswayed by Byleth’s performance, was a man in a familiar black-feathered mask. He was holding back another man with waves of ginger hair spilling out from behind his storm blue mask, who looked alarmed and ready to join the crowd. Edelgard sent Henry another nod before turning back to Claude and winding her arm around his in wordless permission.

King Khalid grinned. “Pardon me, my Lady. I did not catch your name?”

“Sigrrúna von Nuvelle, a distant relation of the reestablish Nuvelle house.” Sigrrúna allowed King Khalid to lead the way up the stairs. “It is a pleasure to meet you, my King.”

“It is a pleasure to see you again, Lady Sigrrúna.”

And with that, the pair left the commotion going on in the reception hall behind and ventured to the top of the Goddess Tower, where there were many plans to be made.

[Henry: "home ruler"; from the name 'Heimirich' composed of the Germanic elements 'heim', home, and 'ric', ruler

Sigrrúna: "secret victory"; composed of the Old Norse elements 'sigr', victory, and 'rún', secret/secret lore]

#edelclaude #edelclaude week 2021 #edelgard von hresvelg #claude von riegan #fire emblem three houses #mine #yes i put too much thought into these names #yes henry is a reference too #yes there is a lot left on the cutting room floor #i thought up a TON of backstory for this and used like a fourth of it

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