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skylarsblue · 1 year

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✦Slashers With An ADHD S/O✦

This could also be taken as slashers with a s/o that has unmedicated ADHD, it's essentially just them responding to your info dumping or random-ass questions. This is definitely not me just wanting to project random facts onto people-

✧GN!Reader, mention of skinwalkers(in case you're worried bout the energy that might bring), brief mention of cannibalism✧ ✧Bo; He/Him, Vincent; He/They, Lester; He/Him, Thomas; He/Him, Bubba; He/She/They, Stu; He/Him, Billy Lo; He/Him, Brahms; He/Him✧

❀Bo Sinclair❀

He's gonna act so sick of it but he often gets wrapped up in what you're doing. I've always been on the fence if he's neurotypical, or if he has unmedicated ADHD.

If you ask a random ass question that he can't immediately answer, he'll try to brush you off, but then he'll get too curious. Leading to hours of you two coming up with theories or researching some obscure topic. Sometimes it leads to debates that might get heated, but they never turn into actual fights.

Although sometimes he's too tired to deal with your random shit. Like, if you two are in bed, and you roll over with a super obscure topic? He'll give you some tired grunts as responses, but eventually, he'll cover your mouth and tuck you under his chin. "Doll, I'ma need you to shut ya mouth." He loves you but he needs his beauty sleep.

You were washing dishes as Bo sat in the living room, sipping a beer and losing his focus on a TV show. Things were quiet and peaceful. He'd been a bit on edge today, but that was chalked up to his lingering headache. Aside from that? Nothing was wrong, and it allowed everyone in Ambrose to relax...assuming they weren't encased in wax. But your brain was not relaxed. Not with the question that had been bouncing around all day. Finally, it was too much to bare on your own, so after drying your hands you poked your head around the door frame to the kitchen. Staring at Bo on the couch. He sensed it, setting his beer on his knee as he looked over, expecting your words.

"Bo, how come you never see an ad for microwaves?"

His brow furrowed before his eyes rolled. "Really? Darlin' what kind of stupid ass question is th-..." He trailed off as he properly processed the question. You blinked, staring, waiting as you watched it settle over him. The same confusion. He shook his head. "Prolly 'cause everyone knows ya need one." He said, trying to brush it off, but that answer was not satisfying. "But then why are there ads for other appliances? Or toilet paper? Everyone knows you need that stuff." You replied. Bo bit his lower lip as he looked up, thinking again. "...well shit, I don't fuckin' know." He admitted. You jumped in the air and made dramatic hand motions. "SEE?! Right?! It's been bothering me all day!!" You exclaimed. Bo rubbed his forehead as he tried to come up with an answer, or perhaps bring forth the memory of a microwave commercial.

You hopped over the back of the couch and settled next to him. "Bo, it's been eating away at me. I can't come up with anything." You whispered. "I can't either...shit! Why is that a thing?!" Bo demanded, you laughed and put your face in your hands. "Nah nah, we're gonna think of something. This shit's gonna eat at me." He said, setting his beer on the coffee table. He was in too deep now. There was no escaping without an answer.

❀Vincent Sinclair❀

Vincent can't really respond to your random questions or factoids, his vocal cords are damaged and he only speaks when necessary. However, he'll listen! Most of the time anyway. Occasionally, they'll be too focused to hear what you're saying, but they'll pause and sign for you to repeat your last sentence. He wants to indulge you.

You'll remind him of Lester when they were all younger. For this reason, they won't get annoyed. They're a seasoned veteran of the random ramblings of an individual with ADHD. That, and it makes him feel at peace hearing you in the background of whatever he's doing. Reminds him of a more peaceful time.

Vincent's an insomniac. He can stay awake to hear your latest info dump, but, if he's exhausted enough? He's gonna pass out. It doesn't matter how loud you're ranting either. He finds your voice soothing and it's hard to stay awake when they're so tired, and you feel so safe. But don't worry, if you want, they'll ask you to start talking about the topic again in the morning. After their coffee, of course.

There was a quiet scraping sound mingling with the bubbling of wax in a large vat in the basement. Vincent's hands worked diligently as he formed the shape of a man's arm, carefully sculpting the subtle curve of a bicep. They were in their zone, completely focused. Taking even, deep breaths as they went to grab a more precise tool.

"VINCENT!"

And the silence was shattered, making the man fumble with the tool, doing a short juggling act until he caught it. He looked over at you bouncing into his workspace, grinning. "Oh! Sorry, did I mess you up?" You asked as you noticed he was working. Vincent let out a sigh and shook their head, allowing you to relax, energy coming back full force. He set his tool down and signed to you. "What's wrong?" He asked, making you shake your head. "Oh nothing, but I just learned something super cool!" You walked closer and pulled up a chair, setting yourself on top of it.

"Do you anything about Egyptian mythology?" You asked with an excited grin. Vincent paused and tapped his fingers a few times on his leg before shaking his head. "Great! Okay, so there's this god, Anubis, also called Anpu or Inpu. He's a deity relating to death and the passing of the people of Egypt. He's got a jackal head most of the time, which is basically a canine. One of the things he's known for is this ceremony where he weighs a heart against a feather to see if it's pure, and if the heart is heavier than the feather, it's impure. So! He'll feed it to this other deity named Ammit. Which would basically mean your soul can't move on to the underworld." You paused to take a deep breath. Vincent had settled in his own seat at this point, listening intently. He'd never been much for mythology aside from his Greek phase in high school. But you were so passionate and admittedly? The factoids were interesting.

They'd gladly listen for hours on end, it made you so happy, how could he not indulge?

❀Lester Sinclair❀

This man is the king of random factoids, are you kidding me? Do you think he wouldn't be as passionate about your random topics? Fool that you are! He has just as many! It's definitely a bonding thing for the two of you.

The things he brings up most are bug & plant related, but he loves learning from you. He's got several learning disabilities so learning from a book is a bit difficult. This is partially why he loves learning from you. Be careful to have your facts straight though.

You could wake him up at two am and get him enraptured in a conversation with ease. He won't be mad, just a bit groggy at first. He utterly adores the fact you're so willing to share the things you're passionate about, no matter how random they are. And Lester is elated that you return the favor.

Wood shavings fell to the ground as Lester whistled a tune, carving a new knife handle out of some old cherry oak he'd found. He'd hoped to give this one to Bo, in order to replace the switchblade the man had that was starting to give up on him. It was peaceful on his cabin porch. Birds chirping, bugs buzzing, trees only swaying in a slight breeze. He stopped his whistling tune when he heard the screen door creak open and saw you walk out. He smiled as you sat beside him. "Afternoon' sugar." He greeted.

"Lester, I need you to confirm something for me." You said with an intense look. The man rose an eyebrow and looked you over. "Alright...what is it?" He asked. He watched you inhale deeply and finally open your mouth with the question. "Is it true that there are creatures in the ocean that look like tiny bunnies but they're slugs?" Lester blinked before he laughed a bit, a grin stretching across his face. "Yeah, there are! They're called sea bunnies! They're real small critters, buncha slugs in the ocean look real cool. There's one that looks like 's made of leaves too. It eats like a plant too! That photosin-photo, whatever's called." He mumbled. You gasped loudly.

"There are sea slugs that can photosynthesize?! Oh my god!" You cheered. Lester snickered and nodded vigorously. "Baby, I thought they were fake! They're so small and cute, I just wanna squish'em." You explained, making a little squishing motion with your hand. Lester hummed in agreement. "There's this other one. Looks like a dragon, but ya can't pick'em up 'cause they're real poisonous." He said, feeling his heart swell as you let out a sad whine. "All the cool things are poisonous." You complained. You looked back at him with adoration and a smile made from sunshine. "Can you tell me more about random animal stuff?" Lester couldn't have been happier to hear you ask. "Well, don't mind if I do." He adjusted himself in his seat, feeling joy rush through his brain as he started his factoid rant.

❀Thomas Hewitt❀

Alright, he's neurodivergent, but he's never been the type to info dump or even deeply explore his interests. Mostly because he's never had the time or ability. However, seeing how deep you get into your stuff will probably inspire him to indulge himself more.

He doesn't know what a hyperfixation is but he'll relate if you tell him about it. Thomas' tend to be things like sewing and, fittingly enough, mechanics of things like chainsaws. He used to be into old cars when he was younger but Luda Mae would often tell him not to poke around, for fear he'd get hurt by something.

Thomas finds your ease around him cathartic. Sometimes, when you're rambling, he won't be fully listening. Not because he doesn't care but because he's too focused on the fact you're with him. Even when he's at his most exhausted, he'll always find time and energy to watch you be passionate. To share those things with him? It feels unreal sometimes.

Thomas huffed as he tossed a small bale of hale towards a pile in the back of the dilapidated barn. Sweat rolled down his skin, which he wiped with the fabric of his shirt. He tilted his neck and only slightly winced when it cracked loudly. "Tommy!" And there it went again, feeling his heart melt and his stress fade away. Usually when his name was called it meant someone needed something, that he was about to be insulted, that he was doing something wrong. But not with you. No, you always said his name in the sweetest tone. He turned to face you, watching you run up to the barn with a smile. You remembered to step over the board at the entrance since it had unhidden nails.

"Tommy! Okay, baby, I know you're working but can I tell you about something really cool?" He exhaled and his gaze softened. With a deep grunt and a nod, he moved a hay bale off to the side and motioned to it. You cooed and walked up, sitting down on the bale with a grin. "You're a sweetheart." You praised, making him blush. "Okay, so, you know how Native Americans have super rich history? And like, they even have things akin to cryptids and they have their own folklore?" Thomas nodded as he went back to work, showing he was still listening.

"Alright, well, don't take my word for everything here because I may be wrong on some of it. But! There are these things called skinwalkers, in English anyway. They're a thing most notably spoken about from Indigenous tribes around the southwest, like here and Oklahoma and stuff. Typically they're described as shapeshifting beings with deformed, almost, humanoid bodies. The origins kind of vary based on where you get it from, but some traditions say that they used to be powerful medicine men who succumbed to evil. Some other origins think that they're people who committed a deep sin." Your hands moved with your words and you occasionally paused as to not stutter over the words. Though it was a taboo topic to speak about and not something Thomas would've ever sought out, he listened. Pausing his work to stare at you lovingly as you rambled about a creature that was probably pretty nightmare-inducing. He couldn't bring himself to be disturbed. Only succumb to the adoration in his chest.

❀Bubba Sawyer❀

Bubba's neurodivergent as well, they have their hyperfixations, but sadly can't share them much. One, because her family often expressed annoyance so she's no longer willing to show them. Two, she can't really talk. He's only able to babble things that sometimes sound kind of like words.

But oh, oh he ADORES when you share your interests or ask him weird questions. It brings him so much joy. And they feel so seen when you acknowledge they want to share something with you as well. You become Bubba's hyperfixation safe space and he returns the effort tenfold. (Her fixations are jewelry & fashion magazines)

She'll never not listen to you. Of course, if he's working, he'll need to be focused on that. But you're more than welcome to sit nearby and keep talking. They take note of everything you say, and if it's something he can find and give to you? They'll search for something you'll like so hard every chance they get.

Bubba patted his hands on his lap as you sewed a hole in his apron. Though Bubba knew how to sew, and enjoyed it, sometimes their big hands made it difficult. That and their random muscle spasms. But, you were always willing to help, something that made his love for you triple almost every day. You smiled as she leaned in to watch you work more closely. "You know, Bubs. Maybe I should make you a dress. I have a few designs I think you'd look great in." You said. Bubba's brown eyes widened and she squealed, watching you finish the stitch, placing the needle down. As soon as he was sure you wouldn't get pricked, he squeezed you in his arms, making you laugh.

You set his apron in his lap and stood up, grabbing a busted-up sketchbook that they'd grabbed off a meal once. You sat back beside her and flipped open to a page. Bubba flapped her hands excitedly as she caught sight of a chubby figure in the concept of a flowy dress. "See, I tried to consider what would be best with your work. I figured sleeves would get in the way so I kept them either short or just as straps, adjustable of course." You explained as you pointed to the sketches. "I mostly took inspiration from those magazines you have. Most of those dresses have shirt tops and blouson cuts, but I couldn't help myself by when I imagined you in a sundress." Your smile grew wider as Bubba wiggled in place, letting out happy squeals and excited squeaks.

You began to ramble about different waist cuts and fabric patterns, colors that you felt would compliment Bubba's skin tone. Eventually ending up in his lap as he squeezed you, rocking back and forth. Feeling adored and cared for. No one else had ever put in this effort to indulge her and she felt ready to cry from joy. You hummed and turned a page. "You know, I think a babydoll cut nightgown would also be real cute on you.~" You purred, going to slowly turn the page again. Bubba caught sight of a slightly revealing babydoll cut "nightgown", with detailed lace, clearly meant to be a bit see-through. They squeaked and covered their face. You laughed fondly and reached to place kisses on the backs of their knuckles.

❀Stu Macher❀

Again, you think this dude doesn't have ADHD? There ain't no way in hell. This man is a poster child for unmedicated ADHD if I've ever seen one. His hyperfixations being horror movies and true crime, clearly. He loves to have someone to rant about these things with, but a lot of people aren't down with it. Imagine his joy when he found out you were. And even more so when you do the same back.

He's a bit hard to get into things that don't already interest him. But, he does his best to listen anyway, since you do that with him. However, if you have a similar interest to him? Stu is all over that shit. He finds you so sexy when you rant about the cinematography of your favorite movie or the psyche of a fictional killer.

If you know you have ADHD and tell him, you might actually be able to convince him to get tested. It won't change anything, but Stu being on meds would probably help him out in school...or it would just help him be more down to earth. That's wishful thinking though.

"Babe! Baby, babe babe babebabebabe!" Your voice cut over the movie Stu was watching, making him pause it. The image of Jason standing in a doorway to a cabin fizzled and glitched on the old TV. He laughed when you dove over the back of the couch, setting down the snacks and drinks you brought, quickly turning to face him. "I have theories and I need to spill them before I forget about them." You said. Stu grabbed a soda and cracked it open. "Well spill then baby! I'm all ears!" He grinned, taking a large gulp of Dr.Pepper. You got yourself comfortable and cleared your throat, starting off with a deep breath. "It's about the Ghostface killings recently." Now that caught his attention. "Yeah? What'cha got, babe?" Twisted excitement formed in his chest as he awaited your words.

"I don't think there's one killer, I think there's two." His brain sparked up and his heartbeat arose, leaning his arm on the back of the couch as he listened. "See cause, when Casey was in her house, she was called on the phone and the killer talked to her right? They probably were giving her things to make her think she could survive, if it were me I'd choose...like, a trivia thing. Get the answers right, ya live. But of course she didn't They killed her boyfriend on the porch while she was still on the phone, but then evidence showed someone was in the house to hunt her down. That doesn't make sense! There would be no feasible way only one person could utterly tear Steve's organs out and then get into the house without her noticing. She probably had both doors locked anyway! But, if someone else was already inside while a second killer Jack-The-Ripper-style killed Steve, it would make so much more sense!"

Stu ran his tongue along his lower lip, watching you get more animated and invested into your theory. Despite talking about a recent murder of peers, the terrifying concept that there were two people out there ready to commit horrific acts, you were smiling. Buzzing off excitement while talking about a murder. "And! The amount of strength and time it would've taken to tie her and pull her over a tree branch, not being seen? One person doing that is hard to believe, but two people? That's a piece of cake!" You declared, only to be cut off by a passionate kiss to the mouth. It silenced you for a moment, but it didn't do anything to your stuttering heartbeat. Stu pulled back with a smug grin. "You're so sexy when you dissect murder plans." He said. You snorted and let out a loud laugh. "I'm a fuckin' freak, huh?" Stu laughed. "And I love it, baby!"

❀Billy Loomis❀

He deals with Stu every day, he's used to it. Billy's not one who infodumps or hyperfixates, but he's not incredibly annoyed by it. Most of the time anyway.

If you catch him in a bad mood, he might ask you to be quiet, but it's not personal. It's not that he doesn't care or anything, he's just not in the mood for a lot of information being said to him at a fast rate. Most of the time though, he'll be perfectly fine with it.

He won't really get into it with you, but he'll support your interests and occasionally entertain your weird questions. Billy's particularly happy if your hyperfixation benefits him, however. Like with Stu, true crime & horror movies are things he's always willing to hear about.

Billy paused the movie and looked over. "You've been chewing on your lip this entire time, just spit it out." He said bluntly, though he had a calm smile on his face. Both of you were sat in your bedroom on your bed, watching a copy of Halloween H20 that you'd rented. Billy didn't really like movie talkers so you'd tried your best to hold it all in until the end, even if you had a million things to say. But he knew better and he was in a good mood. As long as you weren't talking over the movie, he wouldn't have a problem. He bit back an amused snicker as you let out a relieved breath and got ready to rant.

"I was just thinking if there was maybe a reason Michael can survive so much. Cause like, he is human. He needs to eat, we hear him breathe, even if he doesn't die he does get wounded by people attacking him. So it's not that he's a demon, even if Loomis calls him pure evil, so maybe there's a medical reason he can withstand all that!" You began. Billy set the remote down and pulled himself up to sit against the headboard, crossing his arms and nodding, urging you to continue. "Okay, so, hear me out. What if he just has a surplus of stem cells? Like, they're out of control." You said, starting to talk with your hands. "Stem cells? Remind me what those are again."

You huffed and muttered something fondly about how he failed biology. He snorted at the comment. "Stem cells come from your bone marrow and they're what helps you heal from stuff. Like, if a section of your liver is removed? Stem cells will make the organ grow back to the perfect size for your body. When we get older, they tend to slow down, which is why it takes longer to heal from stuff. But theoretically, if Michael just has a fuck ton, he could come back from almost anything. As long as he has bone marrow, he'd keep producing stem cells, and he'd keep healing. At that rate, even old age couldn't kill him. Old age doesn't kill you, it's just your body's functions shutting down because of old dying cells." Billy hummed and rose his eyebrows, considering your theory for a moment. He then nodded with a smile. "That would actually make a lot of sense. A lot better than the cult idea." You beamed. "Thank you! Also yeah, that movie was fuckin' awful." He laughed and opened his arm, allowing you to lay against him. "You gonna let it play now?" He asked, to which you nodded. He patted your arm and grabbed the remote, allowing the movie to play again.

❀Brahms Heelshire❀

Aight, he's autistic, he doesn't have ADHD. He needs strict structure, he has no idea how you just wing everything. You're all over the place! It's frustrating! ...sometimes, other times it's fun to watch and listen to you. Brahms hasn't ever really had friends, not ones that seem so excited to talk to him anyway. It's a nice change, actually.

He'll start to be more comfortable with sharing his own thoughts on things he's really into. Brahms has never been able to speak for an hour on a chapter in a book before, and he feels really at ease when you listen to him. He's a bit hypocritical and occasionally tunes you out when you're ranting, but he'll usually try to listen.

Brahms is amazed at how many topics you can seemingly flow into, even when starting on something completely unrelated. He's endlessly entertained by you, so much so, that it'll occasionally make up for you accidentally letting time get away from you and going off schedule. Occasionally.

Brahms cleaned his brush as you spoke, running it over a napkin to dry it off and ensure it wasn't holding any more of the green paint. You'd been rambling for an hour now, more so to yourself than to him. The noise was a nice change from the deafening silence that he'd been used too in the walls. Brahms lifted his mask slightly to take a bit of the sandwich you'd made him, allowing himself to tune back into your rant. "Actually, some people have said that there's a stage of decomposition where the stench is almost sickeningly sweet. I've never smelt it like that though, the stench of death is pretty recognizable as not sweet." Brahms stopped mid-chew and stared at you. Where in the hell had you gotten this from? He could've sworn you started on food first.

"I wonder if cannibals found that smell appealing, actually. Maybe they considered it the "still safe to eat" time for when a body is already dead. I imagine they'd want it fresh though." You muttered whilst putting away a glass. "Actually! Interesting fact, some cannibals have described human meat as being akin to pork, just with a strong & bitter aftertaste. And the more muscular someone is, the chewier they are. Also I think I read once that tattoo ink has a terrible taste, which would make sense I suppose. In history, human was sometimes described as long pig or hairless goat!" Brahms cleared his throat and snapped you out of your train of thought. You made eye contact with him through his porcelain mask, seeing his look of confusion and slight concern. You chuckled bashfully, rubbing the back of your neck. "I don't know why I know these things, but I promise it's not from personal experience." You reassured.

Brahms sighed and shook his head. You untensed a bit when he let out a little chuckle, one that was deep and genuine, not covered by his "child" voice. "You have got to be the most interesting nanny I've ever had." He said, accent thick as he spoke. Your face heated up and you let out a soft laugh, nodding. "Probably the most out there for sure. I'll take that as a compliment and uh, stop talking about cannibalism now." Brahms nodded and took another bite of his sandwich, pushing the chair out next to him with his leg. You took it with a smile. "How about you talk instead, hm?" You offered. Brahms cleared his throat again and nodded, he had plenty of things to discuss. Perhaps the eras of painting styles would be a good choice.

(bet you thought the cannibalism was gonna be in Thomas or Bubba's huh? YOU THOUGHT WRONG)

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christhopersturniolo · 1 month

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୨ PINKY PROMISE ୧

Summary: Y/n finally confronts her abusive dad, leading to a massive argument, where she leaves the house.

Warnings: Angst, daddy issues, violence, cussing.

Notes: English is not my first language, so I’m sorry about any mistake!

୨୧

Im on the living room couch since my dad left the house. My eyes blink slowly, struggling to stay open. I see on my phone, 2AM. The big yellow light only makes me drowsier at each second that goes by. As soon as my eyes close, I hear the door opening, automatically getting my attention.

I sit up, rubbing my eyes. I watch the old man walking through the living room with a bottle of beer in his hand. The familiar smell of alcohol fills the room. He looks in my direction, his eyes narrowing as they land on me. “What the hell are you doing still up?" He asks with a tone of accusation.

I hesitate before answering, finding the right words. “I.. I was just waiting for you, dad.” I reply. The tension in the room is big.

"Waiting for me? More like waiting to nag me, you little brat." He scoffs as he walks over to the kitchen, opening the fridge and getting another alcoholic drink.

I feel the rage burning inside me, but I push it down, knowing it will only make things worse. “I was worried about you” I say, my voice trembling slightly. “You were gone for hours, and..”

But before I can finish my sentence, he cuts me off with a bit of a laugh. “You are just like your mother, always putting your nose where you are not called” He takes another swig from the bottle. I put my phone in my pocket. I start getting up, maybe going to bed was actually the best idea, but it looks like he still has things to say. “You're the last person who should be worried about me, little bitch.”

All his words just remind me of how much I hate him. Since my mom died, nothing has been the same. He started getting into alcohol, drinking every day. I have bruises from all the times he had ever hit me. I hate when he mentions my mom, like he didn’t even loved her. I turn myself to him. “It’s not my fault you go out to drink like a fucking addicted, just because you can’t stand the idea of mom not being here anymore!” I say. “And I shouldn’t be worried?!”

“You are just like her” He looks at me with disgusted eyes. “Always running your mouth, just like your goddamn mother.” He gets closer, his breath hitting my face. “If she was here, she would be embarrassed of having you as a daughter, just like I am.” He pauses. “You are just a mistake. I wish I had used a condom that night. No one can fucking stand you.”

I shake my head. “That’s not true.” I try to convince myself. Some tears running down my face, I just can’t avoid them. I feel more and more angry.

He simply keeps talking. “And let me tell you,“ He points an accusing finger at me. “That shitty boyfriend of yours? He’s just with you out of pity.”

“You don’t know what you are talking about. You don’t know him, dad.” My breath gets heavier.

“He’s just using you, like everyone around you, piece of shit. You will see, as soon as he finds someone bett-“

Suddenly, before he could finish talking, I push him away from me, making him lose balance, almost getting him on the floor. “Stop! Just shut the fuck up already! Leave me the fuck alone!” I scream, tears blur my vision.

But my father’s rage only seems to intensify. He doesn’t give up. He comes back, his hand connects with my cheek, slapping me across the face, leaving a red mark. For some moments, I froze. “I hate you!” I yell "I hate being here! I hate every moment spent under this roof with you!"

“Ungrateful brat! That’s all you are!” He affirms, louder than me.

“I hate the way you treat me, the way you talk to me, the way you make me feel like I'm worthless! I’m out of here!” I use the same tone as him, but this time sobbing. And with that, I start walking towards the front door, I open it.

“Sure! get the fuck out of my house! And I don’t wanna see your ass back here when you realize the shit you’ve made!” He tells me. I take one last look at him before shutting the door.

I start crying uncontrollably as I walk through the dark streets. I don’t even have where to go, I just wanna get out of this place. The only thing I can think of is Chris. I need him. He’s the only one who will understand me.

The panic just builds up as I walk the fastest I can to his house. Each step that I take doesn’t feel real. How the fuck is this actually happening. After an eternity, I finally reach his house. I ring on the doorbell, nothing. It just makes me cry more and more. I ring again, still nothing. Until I finally see the door opening. His eyes half closed, shirtless only with his pajama pants on. He blinks in confusion.

“Y/n? What’s.. What’s wrong? What are you doing here?” He asks with his husky voice.

“Chris.. Im sorry.. I..” I try to speak but the words catch in my throat, I’m only able to cry. He pulls me into a hug, my head buries on the crook of his neck as I keep breaking down. He holds me tightly, as I cling to him, my tears soaking his bare skin.

He kisses the top of my head a few times “Shh it’s okay..” He whispers. “You don’t gotta say anything right now, I just need you to breathe, love. I’ve got you..” We stay like this for some moments, until I calm down a bit.

He pulls me back from the hug, making me look at him. “Why don’t you come in so we can talk better, huh?” He questions me calmly. Chris leads me to his room, always holding my hand. As we get there, he closes the door behind us.

“Let me get you something more comfortable to wear” He looks on his wardrobe. As soon as he finds it, he hands me an oversized hoodie and some fluffy pajama pants. Once I'm settled into the cozy clothes, my boyfriend guides me to his bed. We lay down, my head on his chest as a pillow. He strokes my hair gently. “I hate seeing you like this.. Do you talk about what happened?”

I sniff. “It’s just.. Everything with my dad..” My voice shakes as I talk. I start tearing up once again. ”We argued again, but this time.. I said I wasn’t coming back there, but I don’t even have anywhere to go..” I go back to crying.

“Listen to me, you do. You have me, you are staying here for how long you need to. I’m sorry I didn’t got you out of that house earlier.” He rubs my back.

I sigh. I look up at him with my watery eyes. “Can I make you a question?” I whisper.

“Yeah, what is it?”

“Do you ever.. Do you ever regret being with me? Do you ever wish you were with someone else?”

Chris's brows furrow with concern as he looks into my tear-filled eyes. “Hey, hey, hey.. Why are you asking me that?”

“I don’t know.. My dad is always telling me how you are going to leave me and.. I.. I don’t know..” I say insecure.

Chris cups my face with his hands. “Y/n listen to me, those are just lies. Im not going to leave you and I don’t regret being with you, I love you.”

“Do you promise me?” He wipes away my tears with his thumb.

He extends his pinky finger towards me. “Wanna make a pinky promise?” His sentence makes me chuckle a bit, like a little kid. Slowly, I reach out and intertwine my pinky finger with his. “I promise that I will always be here for you, Y/n.” He smiles. “Now can you promise me that you will never doubt about it?”

“I promise Chris.” He gives me a soft peck on my lips.

୨୧

omg this end was so shitty

taglist: @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @orangelala @annamcdonalds67 @lilo7sworld @soso-scarlettolivia @junnniiieee07

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hoonieswhore · 7 months

Text

XLVIII. The shining

Previous / Masterlist / Next

Written chapter under the cut!

Word count: 5,9k

Warnings: The usual curses. SMUT, MINORS DNI. Mentions of cockwarming. Perv!Hoon. Dry humping. Fingering. Pet names. Daddy kink. Rough sex. Dacryphilia. Dirty talk. Manhandling. Edging. Overstimulation. Breeding kink. Cum play/Cum eating. Praise kink. Sex jokes. (I think that's all)

Taglist: @donghoonie-3 @venusssmoon @silkenthusiasts @tobiosbbyghorl @sunshinesquokka (if you want to be added, send an ask<3 Make sure that your age is visible on your profile)

“Welcome to Australia, we hope you enjoy your trip!” the flight attendant said as you got out of the airplane, followed by your boyfriend and your bandmates. Everyone greeted the older woman before you walked into the airport for the checkout and your luggage.

“I'm finally home!” Jake exclaimed as he smiled brightly, you never saw him smiling like that. “I've never been so excited, guys I have a long list of places that you need to see,” he turned around, finding you giving a gentle smile as the other boys rolled their eyes, tired from the long flight.

“I literally can't feel my ass,” Heeseung mumbled before yawning. “Where's Chan hyung? He said he'd be here by now.” As soon as he finished the sentence, you heard a familiar voice behind you.

“Hey guys! Hope you had a good flight!” Chan said, greeting everyone with a hug before he stopped at Sunghoon, the younger boy gave him an awkward smile. “Oh come on, brother in law,” he teases before wrapping his arms around him and hugging him a bit too tight, making everyone laugh.

“We're so happy to be here,” Jay said, hugging Chan again. “Hyung, you're getting married!”

“Oh shut up, I'm literally shitting my pants, I'm so nervous,” the oldest said, sighing. “Anyways, let's go! You'll stay at the hotel where we'll do the reception,” he said, walking towards the parking lot of the airport as you followed him.

“Dude, I still can't believe you're getting married in two days!” you said excitedly as you grabbed his hands while the boys left the luggage in the trunk of the van.

“Yn, please stop mentioning that, I'm already nervous,” he whined with a big smile, “but I'm so happy too, it's such a weird feeling.”

“Still, I'm so happy for you! And so excited to be the flower girl, oh my god!” you smiled happily, releasing his hands as the boys walked towards you after closing the trunk.

“We're ready!” Jake said, wrapping his arm around Chan, “when will we meet your girl?” he asked curiously.

“Well, you'll meet her tonight,” he replied, “I want you guys to come for dinner! Unless you want to rest, you must be tired from the flight,” the boys shook their heads as you did the same.

“We can get some rest now, maybe wash up too and then we'll be ready for tonight, don't worry about that,” Heeseung replied quickly.

“Are you all sure?” he asked worriedly as his gaze traveled from Heeseung to the rest of you.

“Yeah, we're young, hyung!” Jay exclaimed, “We can take a small nap and then we'll go to your place!” The rest of the band nodded, smiling at the older guy.

“Alright, I'll pick you up though,” he said, “now let's go, I want you to get some rest before tonight!” he rushed you, making you laugh. You opened the door, got in the van and sat next to Sunghoon at the back. Heeseung and Jay followed, sitting in the middle row before they shut the door behind them. Jake got in the passenger seat whilst Chan sat on the driver's seat, starting the van before he looked back.

“Is everyone here? YN, Sunghoon, Heeseung, Jay, Jake,” he counted heads making Jay whine.

“Why do you do that? We're not kids,” he rolled his eyes, earning a laugh from everyone.

“Because the only time that I didn't count, we forgot Heeseung at the bar,” Chan explained, turning around and putting on his seatbelt.

“Yeah, it was weird that we were so comfortable in the back,” Jake nodded, “the only one having a hard time was Sunghoon cause you were driving his car.” He laughed, making the boy blush as he looked through the car window.

“Baby~ Don't listen to him,” you whispered, grabbing his hand and rubbing small circles on it with your thumb to comfort him.

“I'm fine, doll, but that reminded me that I was jealous of Chan hyung,” he looked at you and giggled, squeezing your hand. “But if anyone tries to flirt with you here, I'm gonna kiss you in front of them.” He warned, earning a chuckle from you.

“My cute boy~” you cooed, kissing his cheek. “You can kiss me in front of whoever you want, my love.”

“Yeah?” he smirked, wrapping his arm around your waist as he leaned closer, “Because I'd love to kiss you now,” he whispered before crashing his lips against yours in a passionate kiss. You kissed him back, smiling against his soft lips as you took your hand to his hair, tangling your fingers between his soft locks.

All of a sudden, you both felt like it was only you and him in the van as you lost yourselves into the kiss without caring about the other boys telling you to get a room or joking around and laughing.

Chan left you all at the hotel, it was the second fanciest hotel that you've seen.

“I'll pick you up around eight, okay?” he said, getting a nod for an answer, “see y'all later, hope you like the hotel!” You greeted him, before making your way to the reception. Jake talked to the receptionist, giving him your names, the man nodded with a bright smile as he passed him four keys.

“Alright, looks like we've got our own rooms,” he passed two keys to Jay and Heeseung, “except for you two, you gotta share,” he passed you another key as he pocketed his own key.

“Oh, so we're sharing a room? If there's only one bed, you'll sleep on the floor Jakey, unless you wanna sleep with me,” Sunghoon joked, making everyone laugh.

“Ew, no, you kick in your sleep, I'm sorry but you'll sleep with YN,” he replied, shaking his head pretending to be sorry.

“Alright, I'll sleep with my pretty girl~” He said, looking down at you as he wrapped his arm around you, leaning closer to kiss your cheek.

“Well, I'm gonna go to my room before I throw up,” Jay joked, making his way towards the elevator. The four of you followed him as you saw a few men carrying your luggage in the other elevator. Jake pressed the button as the doors closed.

“Oh my god, I'm so excited!” the Aussie boy smiled, “can't wait to show you my list!” The boys smiled at him as you pat his shoulder.

“You need to get some rest, Jakey,” you said, earning a nod from everyone. The doors opened at the correct floor, where you found your luggage already in front of each door.

“Alright, I'm gonna take a nap,” Heeseung said, walking towards his room as he grabbed his suitcase.

“Yeah, me too,” Jay followed, grabbing his own suitcase and getting in his room too. Jake greeted you, doing the same as the other boys, it was just you and your boyfriend now.

Sunghoon grabbed both suitcases whilst you opened the door, revealing a very nice and cozy room, covered in neutral tones and good lighting.

“Wow, this is so nice,” the model said, his eyes scanning every inch of the hotel room as he put down the luggage.

“Yeah, Chan really cares about us, I mean, look at this bedroom!” you exclaimed with a bright smile as you walked to the balcony, “oh my god, Hoon, look! The view is so beautiful,” your boyfriend approached you, hugging you from behind and placing his chin on your shoulder.

“Not as beautiful as my girlfriend~” He kissed your cheek softly as he rubbed small circles on your waist. “Aren't you tired baby?”

“Just a little, it was a long flight,” you replied, turning around to face him as he kept hugging you. “Let's take a nap, my love,” you said, kissing his lips quickly. Your boyfriend followed your lips, stealing another kiss as he took his hand up to your neck. He wrapped his fingers around your throat, something that he used to do when he didn't want to stop kissing you.

You smiled into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck as you melted into his touch. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss as his other hand went up and down on your body, caressing your figure softly. At the lack of oxygen, you both pulled away while Hoon pressed his forehead against yours.

“I love you so much my baby girl,” he whispered, staring into your eyes and smiling at you, letting you see his cute dimples and fangs. Oh how you wished that he was biting you right now.

“I love you too, my sweet boy,” you replied, pecking his lips before you got lost into his starry eyes.

“Do you want to cockwarm?” he suddenly asked, making you giggle. He could be the sweetest and cutest sometimes but your boyfriend was also a pervert. Even though you knew that your man was a pervert sometimes, you knew that he loved to be close to you. Every time he felt clingy or bad or just wanted to be close, he'd ask you to cockwarm him.

“Pervert,” you teased him, watching his smile turning into a pout, “I'm kidding, you know I love cockwarming.”

“And I'm the pervert? I just want to be close to my pretty angel while you only want me to fill you up with my big cock,” he teased, rolling his eyes playfully. You slap his bicep playfully.

“I want to be close to you too, dumbass,” he smirks, leaning closer to kiss your lips softly. His hand leaves your neck, traveling down your body and finding his other hand before they both reach your thighs. He picked you up, making you wrap your legs around his waist as he carried you to the king sized bed.

Sunghoon laid you down on your back gently, the soft mattress felt like heaven after a long trip but your boyfriend's lips were sending you to cloud nine. He was so addictive and you enjoyed every single kiss and touch.

You took your hands down, playing with the hem of his shirt, making him bite your lip as he started to grind against you. You slid your hands under his shirt, grazing his toned abs with your nails, a subtle touch that made him go crazy. The model tugged on your lip, pulling away briefly.

“Maybe I need to fuck that tight little cunt before we take that nap,” he mumbled, eyes filled with lust as he continued his motions, his dick getting harder with every move.

“So you didn't want to just cockwarm! You wanted to put your dick inside me so you could fuck me,” you tease with a light pout, “you're such a pervert.”

“Only for you, kitten,” he smirked before sitting up, taking off his shirt before hovering over you, kissing your lips again as his hand traveled to your chest. He slipped his hand under your top, groping your breast, making you moan into the kiss.

The boy shoved his tongue into your mouth, instantly fighting yours as he pinched your nipple, making you moan louder. Your hands roamed all over his body before you reached his pants, unbuttoning it and pulling down his zipper. You slid your hand in his pants, palming him, the only thing that separated your hand from his shaft was the fabric of his boxers.

Sunghoon groaned into the kiss, rolling his hips faster against your hand as his tip started leaking precum. You squeezed his cock gently, earning a moan from him as he pulled away, slightly panting to catch his breath.

“Fuck, kitten, stop teasing,” he mumbled, leaving a trail of kisses on your neck, making you tilt your head to give him more room. “I'll make sure that no one flirts with my girl,” he whispered, sucking on your skin and biting it slightly until he left a hickey.

“Nobody will flirt with me, I'm all yours baby boy,” you played with his tip, making him grunt against your skin as he ruined his boxers. “But what if I made you cum in your pants, huh?” you teased, earning a hard bite on your neck before he pulled away to look at you.

“Don't even think about that, doll,” he wrapped his arm around your waist, sitting up and pulling you on his lap before taking your top off. “Fuck, you look so gorgeous.” He bit his lip, admiring your half naked body. Sunghoon leaned down, taking one of your boobs in his mouth as he started to lick your nipple, biting it slightly.

You moaned, taking your hand to his hair as you pulled on it a bit harder from how good he made you feel. You ground against his clothed dick, enjoying the way that his tip rubbed against your clothed clit thanks to the skirt that you were wearing.

The boy released your boob, paying attention to the other one as he looked at you, his shiny eyes admiring the way you looked at him while your doe eyes got teary due to the stimulation.

“Fuck, baby, please,” you moaned, “I need you inside me.” You begged, making him moan around your boob before he pulled away. You felt his cock twitching against your clothed clit.

“You look so pretty when you beg, my love,” he captured your lips in a soft kiss as he skillfully got rid of your skirt and panties, noticing a big stain of your wetness on your underwear. He pocketed said panties in his trousers. One of his hands moved to your waist whilst the other went down, straight to your core as he rubbed your folds teasingly.

“Sunghoon, please,” you moaned into the kiss before pulling away. “I want you so bad daddy,” the name turned him on more than you thought. He loved when you called him daddy, especially in that whiny and desperate tone. He suddenly shoved two fingers inside you, making you whine from the sudden stretch.

“Sh, it's okay kitten, daddy is here,” he kissed your cheek lovingly, thrusting his fingers in a fast pace, making you see stars as his thumb rubbed your clit. “I'm gonna make you feel so good, my pretty kitten.”

“Please, want more,” you whined as he picked up his pace. You placed your forehead on his shoulder, wrapping your arms around him as you dug your nails into his skin, making his cock twitch.

“Yeah? More? Anything for you, my sweet angel,” he whispered, kissing your neck as he shoved a third finger inside you, loving how you were already clenching around his fingers. You moaned in his ear as he kept fucking you with his veiny hand, but that wasn't enough, you wanted his cock. You wanted Sunghoon to destroy your pussy like he always does, you wanted him to be balls deep inside you, making you cry on his cock as you marked him up.

“C-cock, please,” you whimpered, feeling close to your orgasm. “Wanna cum on your dick, please.” Your boyfriend smiled, pulling his fingers out of you before shoving them in his mouth, licking them clean and moaning around them as he tasted your juices.

“You always taste so good doll, come on kitten, daddy is gonna fuck you full of his cum now~” he cooed, pushing you down on the mattress. You pouted, letting him go as you watched him getting up to take off his pants and boxers. You bit down on your lip as you saw his dick hitting his abs, his red tip oozing precum. “Bet you want to taste me now, I know that look,” he teased, taking his hand to his cock, stroking it as he spread the precum all over his long shaft.

“I'd love to suck daddy's cock but I really need him,” you said, taking your hand down to your core, opening your glistening folds with two fingers to give him a better look of your entrance. “Need him here~” you pouted, giving him your best puppy eyes.

“Fuck, I think you really want to kill me,” he mumbled, hovering over you. He tapped his tip on your clit, teasing you as he smirked. “Gonna fuck you so good, kitten,” he pecked your lips before shoving his cock inside you in one go until he was bottoming out. You moaned loudly as he started to thrust into you.

“Fuck, you're so big,” you whined, placing your hands on his shoulders as you wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him closer. Sunghoon groaned, hiding his face into your neck as he kept pounding into you, just the way you liked it.

The room was filled with lewd sounds. Your moans got louder with every thrust which made Sunghoon chuckle.

“Fuck kitten, you're so loud today but you gotta be a little more quiet.” he whispered in your ear, smirking mischievously, “unless you want the whole building to hear your pretty sounds, bet you'd love that~” Your walls clenched around his cock from his comment. “My little pervert, bet you want everyone to hear how good I fuck you.”

“Yeah, I want everyone to hear that I'm daddy's cum dump,” You moaned as your orgasm approached, his tip hitting your sweet spot repeatedly, taking you to cloud nine.

“Yeah? I've got an idea though, let me go kitten,” your boyfriend smirked, pulling out of you as you begrudgingly obliged with a pout. “Good girl,” he praised, kneeling between your legs as he gripped your waist, manhandling you and putting you on all fours.

“How will this-” you didn't finish the phrase, you only felt Sunghoon's hand on your hair as he pushed your face down on the pillow, keeping your ass up before he aligned his cock with your entrance.

“That'll help to keep you quiet while I-” he made a pause, pushing his cock inside you before giving a hard thrust. “Destroy this pretty pussy~” He mumbled with a mischievous smirk as he placed his hands on your hips, gripping on it as he started thrusting at a fast pace.

You moaned into the pillow, clenching your walls around his cock as you heard his groans.

“You feel so fucking good,” he mumbled, thrusting harder and faster. “You're still so fucking tight, kitten.” You arched your back, moaning louder as your legs trembled from the new angle, feeling his tip kissing your cervix.

You hugged the pillow, moaning his name as he dug his nails into your skin, pounding mercilessly into you. You felt your orgasm approaching whilst you started to cry from the pleasure.

“Wanna cum please,” your voice and moans were muffled by the pillow but your boyfriend still understood you. He moved his hand, his thumb reached your clit as he started to rub small circles on it, making you whine.

“Go on, kitten, cream daddy's cock,” he said, rubbing your clit faster whilst thrusting at an animalistic pace, trying to reach his high. “I'm so close, gonna fill you up so well, kitten.” His thrusts became sloppier as you came all over his cock but he didn't stop. Sunghoon kept pounding and playing with your clit, overstimulating you as you rolled your eyes back from the pleasure.

“Want you to cum again, kitten, cum for daddy, I know you can do it,” he groaned as he tried to keep his pace but it was hard for him since he could feel your walls hugging his dick so deliciously.

After a few more thrusts, Sunghoon moaned louder as he gave a deep thrust, shooting thick ropes of cum inside you and painting your walls white. He kept pounding, making you cum again around his dick as he overstimulated himself.

Sunghoon stood inside you, catching his breath as he caressed the skin of your hips, admiring the bruises and small scratches that he left. He pulled out, leaning down to lap at your cunt, swallowing the mix of your cum and his, making you whine against the pillow.

He moved his tongue slowly, trying not to overstimulate you too much. He pushed his tongue in your hole, cleaning you up and gathering as much cum as he could before he swallowed.

The model pulled away, licking his lips as he watched your trembling legs still up, making him grin.

“Did I go too far? Are you okay sweetheart?” he asked, rubbing your back gently. You got up, sitting on the bed as you pouted.

“I'm okay,” you laid down on your back, opening your arms for him. “Come here, wanna cuddle.” Sunghoon smiled, laying on his side next to you as he wrapped one of his arms around your waist and the other around your shoulder, letting you use his bicep as a pillow.

“My cute kitten, you did so well,” he pressed a chaste kiss on your lips. “You took me so well, I'm so proud of you, my love.” He hugged you tight, pressing soft pecks all over your face and making you giggle.

“Thank you, Hoonhoon,” his smile got bigger at the nickname, he loved it when you called him that. “You always treat me so well, my love.” You took your hands to his face, cupping his cheeks as you rubbed them gently.

“What can I say? My angel deserves the princess treatment~” he cooed, kissing you again. You kissed him back, tilting your head slightly to deepen the kiss. Sunghoon melted into your touch as he rubbed small circles on your waist with his thumb.

“I love you so much,” you whispered once you pulled away. “You have no idea, my darling.” He blushed from the petname, it was one of his favourites.

“No, I love you more, my cute angel.” He bit your cheek gently, making you laugh.

“Stop doing that!” you whined, “why do you always bite my cheeks?” You pinched his cheek softly.

“Oh shut up, you always bite or pinch my cheeks.” he replied, biting your cheeks again.

“Sunghoon!” you laughed, shaking your head. “We should get up,” you mumbled, taking your hand to the boy's hair as you started to play with it.

“Why? Let's stay here for a few hours,” he pulled you closer to him.

“Baby, we need to get ready for Chan's dinner,” you pouted, earning a kiss from the figure skater.

“Relax, we still have like,” he made a pause, pulling his hand away from your waist to grab his phone from his pants to check the time. “Fuck we have an hour, we need to get up now.”

“Shit!” you exclaimed, getting up quickly as you ran to the bathroom to take a quick shower. Sunghoon shut his eyes, taking a quick nap as you showered. He knew it was better to leave you alone in the bathroom or you'd end up wasting more time with him.

You got out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around your body. A smile appeared on your face as you saw your boyfriend, peacefully sleeping, like a cute baby. You leaned down, pressing soft kisses on his cheeks as you called his name, making the boy groan in his sleep.

“Hoonie, wake up, you need to shower,” you mumbled, poking his cheek until he opened his eyes.

“What?” he sleepily asked before yawning.

“You need to get ready for Chan's dinner, my love,” you repeated, kissing his forehead. A sleepy smile appeared on his face as he stretched, getting up and patting your head as he made his way to the bathroom.

You opened your suitcase, picking the perfect outfit to meet Chan's girlfriend. You dressed up quickly before sitting on a chair, starting to do your makeup. Sunghoon got out of the bathroom, biting down on his lip as soon as he saw you.

“My baby looks so pretty~” he made his way towards you, hugging you from behind. You felt something poking your back, making you blush.

“Go back to the bathroom and take a cold shower right now.” You deadpanned, staring at him through the mirror in front of you. The boy pouted. “Sunghoon, I'm serious.” You crossed your arms in front of your chest.

“Alright, I'll go take a cold shower.” He rolled his eyes, patting your wet hair before he got in the bathroom again to get rid of his boner.

After fixing your hair whilst your boyfriend fixed his big problem, you went down to the lobby. You found your friends already waiting for you two, another familiar face was talking to them.

“No way!” You exclaimed, walking towards them as you pulled your boyfriend's hand to make him walk faster before you let him go. The other boy looked at you, completely shocked before he smiled, walking towards you.

“YN? You gotta be kidding me,” the boy wrapped his arms around you as you hugged his waist. Your boyfriend stared at the scene, slightly puzzled since he didn't know who you were hugging. “It's been so long, how are you?” He asked, pulling away from you as he looked at you.

“I'm really good! What about you?” You answered, smiling at him brightly. Your boyfriend's gaze kept going between you and the boy as he started to talk with the boys, trying to find out who was him.

“I've been good! I've been traveling a bit, are you going to Chan's too?” he asked, taking a hand up to his neck.

“Yeah, actually I'm going with the boys and my boyfriend!” you said excitedly, walking towards Sunghoon as the boy followed you. “This is Park Sunghoon, my boyfriend!” You hold onto his arm, making him grin.

“Wait! Aren't you like a model? Or a figure skater?” he asked, earning a nod from your boyfriend as he said hi. “Wow, that's so amazing!”

“Yeah, I have a few gold medals actually, nothing too fancy.” Sunghoon spoke, his bitter tone surprised you as you didn't expect him to get jealous.

“Hoon, this is Felix, we were friends when we were in middle school!” You smiled, squeezing his arm, silently telling your boyfriend to be nice.

“Nice to meet you, Felix,” your boyfriend smiled, shaking the boy's hand a little too tight.

“It's nice to meet you too!” Felix smiled awkwardly, your friends noticed the scene, stepping in and talking to your boyfriend, trying to distract him as you caught up with Felix.

After a few minutes, you received a text from Chan, he was outside the building, waiting for you. You called the boys, getting out of the building. Chan waved at you, smiling brightly as he saw everyone getting in the van.

“Did everyone rest well?” he asked, earning a positive answer from everyone. Sunghoon looked at you with a teasing smile, making you laugh as you shook your head.

Chris drove to his place, it wasn't too far from the hotel and when you finally got there, you were amazed by his beautiful house. It had a cozy yet elegant vibe with a big yard.

“Dude, this is beautiful!” Jay said as his eyes scanned the front of the house.

“It's so big!” Jake said, taking a look around as you all walked towards the door.

“That's what she said,” Heeseung joked, earning a slap on his head from Jake as the rest of you laughed. Chan opened the door, a girl around Chan's age walked towards you with a bright smile.

“Hello, welcome to our house! I'm so glad to finally meet all of you, Chris always talks about you guys!” The girl's voice was sweet and she seemed really nice.

“Hi! It's a pleasure to meet you, Grace!” you said, shaking her hand. “We heard a lot about you too!”

After a quick presentation, Grace guided you to the dining room as Chan brought the food. The dinner passed between laughs and anecdotes about the past until someone told a very recent story.

“You won't believe this!” Felix started, “I went to my room today, I was so tired from the flight and I swear I almost fought the people in the next room.” He sighed.

“Why? What happened?” Chan asked curiously as you all kept eating.

“Well, apparently it was a couple,” he said nonchalantly, “but they were so loud!” He shook his head. “Like I get that people do that but dude, you're in a hotel, do you have to be that loud? I hope they leave soon.” Sunghoon discreetly looked at you from the corner of his eye.

“Where are you staying?” Jay asked before taking a sip of beer.

“316, I think the sound came from the room next to mine.” He said, making you choke on a potato as your boyfriend choked on his drink. Heeseung, Jake and Jay tried not to laugh whilst Chan, Felix and Grace looked at you worriedly as they asked if you were okay.

“Y-yeah, we're good,” you said nervously as you grabbed your drink, taking a long sip.

“We're fine,” Sunghoon coughed, “Don't worry.” Chris looked at you, getting up from the table as he smiled.

“Yn can you help me with the dessert?” he asked in a certain tone, he wanted to talk with you. You nodded, following him to the kitchen.

“Wow, this kitchen is like a dream,” you said, looking at every single detail of his kitchen.

“Why did you two choke?” He asked, staring at you as he grabbed a knife to cut a pie.

“I-” you stared at the knife as he cut each piece and put it on dessert plates. “Felix heard us.” you said quickly, feeling the heat going up to your cheeks.

“He what?!” His scream was heard from the dining room, making everyone at the table look towards the kitchen.

“I'll see if they need help!” Sunghoon said quickly, running towards the kitchen. “Chan, everyone heard you, what's going on?”

“You just came today and you already fucked at the hotel room?” He asked, shaking his head as he kept cutting the pie. “And don't tell me that when Felix heard you fucking!” He said, looking at Sunghoon. Your boyfriend gulped, getting as red as you.

“We thought the room was empty, we didn't see any light nor heard anything coming from there!” Your boyfriend shrugged. “We didn't know!”

“Guys, you're staying at a hotel, try to be a little more quiet next time!” Chan put the knife down on the counter, passing you a few plates. The model looked at you, goofily smiling as he remembered your face buried into the pillow.

“Sunghoon.” You warned him.

“I didn't do anything!” he said, putting his hand up innocently. Chan shook his head, passing him some plates as he grabbed the rest of them.

“Let's go, everyone is waiting for the dessert,” he said, walking towards the dining room, seeing Jake, Heeseung and Jay laughing out loud.

The night ended well, everyone was happy and now your bandmates had another reason to tease you. Chan took you back to the hotel and everyone ran to their own room as you were all tired. Sunghoon and you walked behind, letting your bandmates talk with Felix. When Felix reached his door, he stopped to wave at you, still looking at you as you kept walking and stopped at the 317 room.

You gave him an awkward smile as his face got red, mouthing an apology before he got in his room.

The wedding day came, you excitedly got up from your seat after finishing your makeup as your boyfriend hugged you as long as he could.

“Why are you so clingy?” you giggled, hugging him back.

“Because I won't see you until later, you need to be there earlier, then walk down the aisle and I'll be sitting pretty far from you,” he pouted, pressing his forehead against yours. “I'll miss you, my love.”

“Aw, you're so cute, baby boy,” you smiled softly, kissing him lovingly. He tilted his head to deepen the kiss, one of his hands traveled from your waist to your nape as he pulled you closer.

“I love you,” he mumbled between kisses. You captured his bottom lip between your teeth, pulling on it gently before you completely pulled away.

“I love you too, my love but we need to go now!” You said, earning a sigh from your boyfriend as he let you go. “How do I look?” You twirl, letting him take a good look at your long dress.

“You look gorgeous, my angel.” He smiled, looking at you as if you were his world. “You're the prettiest flower girl.” He leaned closer, kissing your lips softly.

“Thank you, my love.” You went for another kiss but you heard a few knocks on the door.

“Hurry up! We're gonna be late!” Jake screamed from the hall. Sunghoon let out a sigh, grabbing your hand as you both left the room.

Once you reached the lobby, you walked towards the hall that was reserved for the wedding. The ceremony was pretty quick, you did a good job as a flower girl, smiling as you threw the petals on the carpet.

You looked at your side when you reached the middle, catching a quick glimpse of your boyfriend's nose and eyes all red as he sobbed. You wanted to stop and ask him if he was okay, but you couldn't, so you just looked at him worriedly.

After the beautiful ceremony, where Chan and Grace said their votes and got married, you all went to another hall for the party. You ran to your boyfriend, grabbing one of his hands as the other went to his face. You cupped his cheek as you squeezed his hand.

“Are you okay baby? I saw you crying earlier.” you asked worriedly, rubbing his cheek gently as he blushed.

“Oh… yeah, I'm fine,” he smiled nervously, intertwining your fingers with his.

“Are you sure, my love?” You knew him, he was hiding something, you arched your eyebrow, making him sigh.

“Alright, you just looked so beautiful walking down the aisle and I couldn't help it,” his eyes focused on the wall behind you as he didn't want to look into your eyes, he was too shy to do it. “I was sobbing cause I thought about you… Walking down the aisle on our wedding day.”

“Hoonie,” your vision got blurry as your tears were threatening to fall at any second. You blinked a few times, trying not to ruin your makeup. “You're- you're the loveliest and sweetest and I love you so much.” You pulled him down, capturing his lips in a lovely kiss as he kissed you back.

“I love you too, my angel,” he mumbled between kisses. You pulled away, catching your breath as you hugged him tight.

A few hours passed, you were dancing and having fun with your friends and boyfriend. Felix approached the group, he felt a little awkward at first until you reassured him that everything was okay and apologized for what he heard.

Grace gathered everyone, ready to throw her beautiful bouquet. She turned around, throwing the bouquet to the air until it casually landed right on Heeseung's hands. The boy pretended to gag, throwing it at Sunghoon and making everyone laugh as his face got red. When the bride turned around, she congratulated him, winking at you as your friends teased you both.

Sunghoon bit down on his lip, handing you the flowers. You smiled softly, kissing his cheek as he wrapped his arms around you, hiding his face into your neck until everyone came back to their own business. The party went on, you danced and sang like you always did, having fun with your bandmates until sunrise.

#//heavenly//#enhypen sunghoon smau #park sunghoon smau #sunghoon smau #sunghoon au #park sunghoon au #enhypen sunghoon au #enhypen smau #enhypen au #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon smut #enhypen sunghoon smut #sunghoon hard thoughts #sunghoon hard hours #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon fanfic #park sunghoon fanfic #park sunghoon x reader #enhypen sunghoon x reader

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alligatorjesie · 2 years

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Aww shit. I’m sorry this took so long to reply to, I live my life outside fucking tumblr and this was all I was able to type out in between water and snack breaks from fucking @makemebehavelikeananimal ‘s mother.

It’s rich being told by a chucklefuck who can’t seem to shit out two sentences without a spelling or grammatical error that I’m not using the English language correctly. Are you a fucking grammar police? Are you going to shoot me because I told you fanfiction isn’t fucking new, that police kill people, and you’re a fucking moron?

How ironic.

Meow I do admit what I type out is filled to the brim with expletives and a few run-ons but I think I’m getting my point across. I do understand when you have shit for brains and the attention span as long lived as a snowflakes drifting into the fucking hell shit nuggets like you all must crawl out of it’s tricky for you to do something as simple as fucking read, so let’s hold hands and take a walk through what I typed out just for you since you seem like you need the fucking help.

As you can see at this point of the conversation I’m talking about the entirely un-unique ideal of people taking things that were already known media having fans write fiction about it.

There’s a fucking word for that.

It’s called ‘Fanfiction’

And it’s been around since at least the 14th century. It’s not fucking new.

Now this point here I’m very clearly speaking to the point of ‘If you don’t like the thing it’s as simple as not interacting with it.’

Anti logic fucking baffles me. Why the fuck are you spending time on shit you don’t like? If you don’t enjoy, say, the new Game of Thrones series, then don’t interact with it.

It‘s just that fucking simple.

I know I sure as flying fuck don’t after that absofuckinglutly disgusting pile of wet dog shit series finally.

Now having said that, lemme show you something:

This is my tumblr. As you can tell even though I have a strong opinion about GOT, I don’t post mindlessly hateful shit about it like it’s a fucking keystone personality trait in the Game of Thrones tag of all fucking places. I’ve never fucking posted in it once in fact, well I have now bit it’s more to make a point.

Because I’m not a needlessly hateful fucking cunt.

I’m just a regular justified cunt. Because I’ve been in two fandoms now that have been consistently shit on by everyone around them for my entire lifespan. If we’re not dealing with actual nazis

In the Star Wars fandom to the point it’s a fucking trope

AND in the Furry Fandom.

And even though every single person I know in both of these fandoms is shouting at the top of their lungs for everyone to, you know, just stop and listen to the fact there are

Real

And actual racists

in these fandoms

and we’re dealing with actual attempts on our lives from these shit stains

the overall news media seems quite content to just sorta laugh like it’s fun.

It’s not fucking fun.

I don't fucking like you but I like you fucking less now that I see you dramatically flinging yourself over a fainting couch screaming about your incorrectly perceived racism and uhh transphobia? IDK were the fuck you’re even pulling that shit from but that’s an ass chewing for another time, because I mentioned that cops kill people and that you’re so fucking stupid you don’t understand that fanfiction has been a thing since humans could fucking write and just mind ya own fuckin’ business when I was actually awaken that faithful day in December back in 2014 while attending that very con at about 1 in the morning by hotel alarms and banging on our door that shit was going down right the fuck now and we need to GTFO.

Only to learn the sick fuck set the bombs off in the stairwells, the only way to get out of the hotel because the elevators were disabled. So there was lots of people just sorta trapped.

Not the ones who did try to use the stairwell in all the confusion by the way,

those ones breathed in chlorine which isn’t fucking healthy surprise surprise.

Because we were just told to leave the hotel. No one said a fucking thing about the chlorine bomb set off in the fucking stairwells.

19 living breathing humans got sick from that attack.

Many are still dealing with real life long term effects of what happened to them psychologically.

Some of them are dealing with real life long term effects of what happened to them Physically. Not to mention that this shit happened in the middle of December in Chicago. Everyone was evacuated outside, you know the ones who could actually get outside.

At 1 in the morning.

And told they couldn’t go back inside for many hours.

You know, just standing outside in their pajamas in the freezing Chicago winter. Only to be laughed at the next morning by almost every other fucking news channel out there.

You know, at the con that was chlorine bombed by a hateful fuck.

Someone kinda like you.

I have literally been closer to death in that instance and every single fucking day just by living were I do and being in the fandoms I’m in. My heart doesn't exactly fucking bleed for you because you got upsetty that cops in a country you don’t even fucking live in kill a lot of people and that statement is fucking triggering to you.

I don’t give a fucking shit.

Be fucking mad about it, but don’t be mad at Me about it. I’m not a fucking cop. I’m not even a racist POS like you want me to be. I’m just a furry and a reylo who wants you to leave the fucking reylo tag if you’re gonna be a prick about it.

We were chlorine bombed at a furry con because people like you hate people like me.

You know what’s triggering to me?

Assholes in my fandom spaces.

I fucking tired of assholes.

I’m fucking tired of anti shit stains who think it’s alright to hate the shit I love and think they can just openly mock fandom they don’t like to the point people in it have killed themselves from y’all’s harassment.

I’m going to happily spend every moment I’m alive telling you fucking pricks you’re not fucking welcome and to fuck off. And if I have to write a fucking mini novel to do it I fucking will.

I’m excited to watch that high horse you’re sitting on buck you off.

So the next thing I talk about here is how Tumblr’s ‘based on your likes’ algorithm works against you because you’re so fucking stupid you can’t figure out why reylo shit keeps showing up on your fucking feed. This one is actually pretty straight forward, but I’ll explain it simpler just for you:

Don’t want fandom shit you don’t like showing up on your dashboard?

Don’t interact with the fandom.

It’s just that fucking easy.

I don’t like the Naruto fandom and I don’t want to see the content show up on my dash. It’s just as easy for me to fucking avoid it.

Now this next part! My favorite part!

The part were I watched a whole person take their head and ram it so thoroughly up their own anus they’ve created a singularity that is now wildly spinning out of control, sucking every fuckwad who thinks it’s alright to send ‘kill yourself’ anons to fucking anyone at fucking all in close proximity right into it. So lemme ask what part here you read that implied I was sending you a death threat? Was it this part?

Naw probably not. I don’t see anywhere I typed something like ‘I hope’ or ‘I wish’ In fact I believe the wording is ‘You Could’

The line ’You could die tomorrow’ isn’t a fucking death threat you daffy fuck. ‘Could’ is an implication that life is fucking fleeting and it can all get taken away tofuckingmorrow. Learn to fucking read for fuck’s sake how do you even use this site? You COULD walk out your door and get plastered by a drunk driver. You COULD sit down to enjoy a nice dinner and choke to death. You COULD walk down the street and find a black bear riding a unicycle handing out candy. But probably not.

None of these are fucking death threats. It’s not my fucking fault you can’t read one single sentence and fucking understand it, that shit don’t make me a racist that makes you a fucking moron.

‘Could’ isn’t a fucking wish or desire. ‘Could’ is a fucking probability.

I don’t want anyone to be shot by a cop. Like I don’t want anyone to be chlorine bombed at their own con.

But my talking about either of these things dose not fucking automatically imply I wish them on people, how the ever loving fuck does your warped fucking mind work?

Do you fly off the handle like this every time someone plays ‘What if’ with you?

Do you throw yourself in to a diaper shitting baby tantrum every time someone tells you something you don’t wanna hear? Is this your fucking life?

How fucking tiring living with you must be.

Life isn’t a fucking guarantee. That shit can get taken away from you any fucking second, not by my fucking hands that for fucking sure. I just want you to fuck off out of a fandom tag you’re being a useless fucking prick in. I don’t want to fucking see you ever again.

But since you wanna make a big fucking deal about police brutality, let’s check something out here real quick @makemebehavelikeananimal

Oh, so you’re in the UK?

Well I’m glad reading literacy is just as fucking bad there as it is in America. Maybe the reason all these fanfictions getting turned into movies is so frightful to you is because you can’t fucking read and just assumed the movies have to be read too? Because you understand that’s not how that fucking works right?

Hey, lets check something out here:

Oh my sweet mother of fucking Christ sailing across the fucking Nile. You’re making 10 shades of shit out of someone pointing out one of the over 1,000 deaths by cops in the US alone in 2021 and turning that shit into some kinda race dig when YOU live in a country that saw 3 fucking deaths by cops in that same year?

What in the Kentucky Fried Fuck.

I have been to a furry con that was Chlorine bombed and live in a country that has had over one fucking thousand police killings in 2021 alone and I’m less of a fucking brainless preachy twat about death than you. I literally have higher odds of dying by cop and I make less a fucking stink about this shit when someone brings it up. I want people to bring this shit up. This shit is fucking appalling, like your reading comprehension.

I’m not fucking sure how you hear someone mention police brutality and the ever fucking fleeting fragility of life and automatically go ‘well they must be being racist at me’ like I ain’t the one actually living this horseshit every fucking day. What kind of special moron are you? You’re going to be spending more time being dead than you ever will alive. You’re just going to have to come to fucking terms with that goddamn shit however someone as fucking stupid as you can, but boy fuckin’ howdy I ain’t gonna sit here and let some ignorant fuck like you tell me I’m racist for simply bringing up death.

Death is a part of life. We all gonna die one fuckin’ day ya dumb slut.

You’re not immune, I’m not immune, your dear sweet mother whom I have been fucking with a healthy vigor every single waking moment since I met you isn’t immune.

I don’t fucking have to wish death on people. Death is just standing aside waiting for one of us to twist an ankle while walking down the non-fucking-exsistant sidewalks we have here in the US because some dicks for brains decided back in the 40s/50s that everyone should have cars and fuck pedestrians which will cause us to inevitably get stuck by a car traveling over 60 miles per hour next to us. Death is just waiting for you to stand too close unmasked to someone with Covid. Death is just vibrating with excitement as some stupid pricks light another gender reveal explosive in a field that hasn't seen rain in 4 months.

I don’t wish death on people. I make a point of that. I’ve been being told to go fuck off and die because I draw furries since I was a child. I know what it’s like to be told to go die. It’s not fucking fun.

I don’t send death threats on this shit stain site, not when I have useless fucking bell ends like ya’ll sending them to me all the time. We’re past the count of 18 by the way, 4 of them have been from your crew. Congratulations, your online friends are just as fucking trash humans as you are. I’ll be honest with you, I want you to live a long miserable life. I want you to survive until you’re a practically immobile shriveled festering lump of bitter old fuck that is just as dead on the inside as your cold fucking heart. I want you to die at an impossibly long age an old bitter cunt surrounded by people you hate and who hate you in kind since you’ve made every personal slight into issues that don’t even fucking involve you because that’s all your myopic world view can work with. I hope one day very far from now you die a very old lonely miserable person because you’re a fucking cunt who never made a single ounce of meaningful human contact in all your long lived years since you’re such a cantankerous stupid fuck who’s physically and emotionally repulsed any person that might have loved and cared for you in your last long moments. Fuck you OP. I don’t give a shit that your a POC. I care that you’re a fucking tasteless cunt spewing needlessly mean shit in a tag you don’t fucking like.

Now dick off.

#Anti talk #reylo #hate talk #death threats #nazis #furry fandom #tumblr has a lot shit tier people on it #not all #for sure #but a lot #who think it's fine to send anon death threats #that's not fucking fine what the flying fuck is wrong with you?#@makemebehavelikeananimal is a fucking monster #And also racist lets throw that one in there too for good measure #I'm going to take a page out of @makemebehavelikeananimal 's book and just start throwing insults out until one of them sticks

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polizwrites · 1 year

Text

Tensegrity

This is a fill for today’s @februaryficletchallenge Day 8: “This is the last time I bail you out!” as well as my @tonystarkbingo S5 - James “Rhodey” Rhodes and @avengersbingo A1 - Vulnerability squares.

Fandom: MCU/Marvel Pairing: Tony Stark x James “Rhodey” Rhodes Rating: Teen Tags: MIT era, mutual pining (unresolved), Rhodey POV Word Count: 620

“Tensegrity is a structural principle based on a system of isolated components under compression inside a network of continuous tension, and arranged in such a way that the compressed members do not touch each other.”

“This is the last time I bail you out!” Jim hissed through gritted teeth. He’d dragged Tony out of countless parties just before things got bad, acted as scapegoat when Howard called his son out on the carpet and even helped with frantic last-minute assignments (Tony HATED writing essays), but this time it was just too much.

Tony had been minutes away from being caught in a compromising position with a clearly willing young man and Jim had never been so angry at his best friend. Not for the reason everyone would have suspected - that Tony had turned out to be gay. In fact, it was something like the opposite. Jim hated the fact that Tony’s half-naked partner hadn’t been him.

The realization had hit Jim like a punch in the gut. He cared about Tony, sure - they’d been best friends for years. But Jim wasn’t gay; he’d never felt any kind of attraction toward any other man. But that apparently didn’t apply anymore when it came to Tony.

“Aw, c’mon, Rhodeybear!” Tony slurred as Jim picked up his discarded shirt with one hand and tugged at Tony’s arm with the other, steering him out of the back door of the frat house. “I’m sorry. I really am.”

Jim could tell that Tony was either drunk or high, or possibly both, which was yet another reason Jim had swooped in and broken up the party; he couldn’t be sure Tony had given consent and wouldn’t regret his actions in the morning. “It’s just, well, he was so damn hot!” Tony continued, his words still blurry, “Besides, he reminded me a little of you.”

“What?” Jim froze in his tracks on the sidewalk; this in turn made Tony stumble forward, as Jim was still holding his arm.

“Oh shit -- did I say that out loud?” Tony’s eyes went wide and he clapped his free hand to his month.

“We’ll talk about this in the morning,” Jim replied, his mind reeling at the possibility that Tony might actually want him as more than just a best friend.

The next morning -- well, nearly afternoon -- Tony grunted a monosyllable greeting in Jim’s direction as he made a beeline for the coffeemaker. Jim had left it half-full and prepped it for the next pot while he was waiting for Tony to regain consciousness. He’d also put Tony’s favorite mug out, and filled it with several generous spoons of sugar.

It took most of that mug before Tony spoke a coherent sentence. “How badly did I fuck up last night?”

Jim shrugged. “Almost getting caught making out with another guy in a frat house full of macho assholes isn’t one of the smarter things you’ve ever done.”

“And I’ve got you to thank for hustling my ass out of there, don’t I?” Tony shook his head. “I swear, I don’t know why you put up with me.”

“You’re my friend, Tony.” And I love you, Jim ached to add, but didn’t dare. Not even after what might have been Tony’s drunken confession the night before. Jim was still too shaken by his own self-revelation to be able to figure out what to do next.

Tony gave him a long, searching look, his deep brown eyes rimmed in red. “And I’m thankful for that, really I am.” But there was something in Tony’s voice that didn’t sound thankful at all; rather it was almost forlorn. “I don’t deserve you.”

Jim didn’t think so either; Tony was going to change the world and needed someone socially acceptable by his side who could make sure that happened. “You know what we both deserve? Cinnamon rolls from the bakery down the street. Put some shoes on, Tones. I’m buying.”

#writing stuff #fanficlet #FFC 23 #mcu/marvel #IronHusbands #tony x rhodey #Shameless self promo

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hanji-is-life · 3 years

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Bakugou who aggressively flirts with the black interviewer throughout the entire ordeal and doesn’t let up on her because he likes seeing her stutter and get all flustered. You’re trying to ask him about his hero stats, but all he can do is counteract the questions with shit directed toward you instead.

“Dynamight, I’m here to ask and learn more about you! This isn’t about me! Nobody wants to know anything about me.” You say through a laugh, but Bakugou frowns at the words before he leans forward with a grin.

“Fuck everybody else. I wanna know everything about you, sweetheart.” The words fluster you to your core. Every question is shaky after that, your hands fumbling and sweaty from how he’s been eyeing you, biting his lip whenever you roll your eyes at another one of his attempts to flirt.

His PR manager keeps pausing the interview to get him back on track, but he’s trying to get on your track instead. After more hounding, he starts answering the questions instead of blatantly flirting, but he’s eye fucking the hell out of you. The black boots that come up to your knee, the skirt and fishnets that frame your thighs and hips, the view of your exposed cleavage, even your pretty ass face and soft looking lips.

He wants to both kiss them and stick his dick in between them.

“‘Like your boots.” He blurts out, cutting you off mid sentence. You stammer for a second, tripping over your words as you try not to combust in your seat.

“Your fishnets, too.” This time it’s said with a lecherous grin as he leans back in his chair and spreads his legs. The cameraman quickly panels to your face, mainly to avoid the obvious bulge that’s now swelling in Bakugou’s ripped black jeans.

Your mouth is gaping open, in shock that this fucker was so damn bold and had absolutely no shame! Bakugou just imagined you getting his pubes sticky from that soft clear lipgloss and brown lipliner on your lips.

“Behave.” You say through a smile, eyes cast low as you try your best to school your expression. You can’t afford to get fired for flirting on the job, but he’s making it so goddamn hard. Bakugou likes the way you try to calm yourself, how chills slither up your exposed chest and arms from being so damn flustered by him. He can’t help himself.

When the interview is over, he’s looking at you to give his thanks and goodbyes instead of the camera, even shooting you a wink that the camera catches. He doesn’t let you get far when it’s finished though, ignoring the people telling him it’s time for another interview at another station, instead opting to convince you into letting him inside of your own dressing room.

He hikes your skirt up in no time, bending you over the vanity, leaves on the heels he wants you to step on him with, rips a hole in your fishnets and pushes your panties to the side. He wastes no time in shoving his face into your cunt, huffing against the pretty brown lips that are already wet with your slick. He licks you clean in seconds, sloppily opens you up with two fingers, before he’s pushing himself inside of you. He doesn’t care about the rattling noises from the falling makeup and jewelry, just pounds into you harder, glances from where your skin contrasts with his own, up to your panting face in the mirror.

It’s a sight he’ll never forget. Especially not the face you make when you cum all over his cock and squeakily ask him to fill you up so you can still feel his cum dribbling out of you during your next interview with Deku. And of course, he happily supplies your demands.

ps: the interview goes viral and everyone loses their shit bc Dynamight was so obviously into you. now you’re being harassed into answering whether or not you guys fucked afterwards. your reply is always a stuttered, “no comment.”

#this is 100% based on that Chris evans interview #also the interview goes viral bc everyone loses their shit knowing he’s into black girls #we all win #hil writes!#bakugou smut #bakugou katsuki x black reader #katsuki bakugou smut #mha smut #mha x black reader

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delicrieux · 3 years

Text

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 13: ...O-OH?

it’s the night of the big stream. y/n uncovers a strange, albeit deep, bond with charlie. corpse interrupts her garden date with sykkuno quite unceremoniously. tensions are high as ever; proximity chat reveals internal monologues and stray thoughts. y/n’s “batshit insane” energy affects everyone. this is, quite literally, the best game of among us bretman has ever played.

─── corpse husband x reader, sykkuno x reader (if you squint, it’s very one sided) ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 6.1k oops ─── ❥ reqs: sum people requested some interaction w bretman + jealous corpse + flirty sykkuno

author’s note: guys....GUYS WE’RE ON THE 3RD “OH” hope ur excited cus i am!!! this was rly fun to write, but then again, everything is better than writing an essay lmao! this is extremely chaotic and a bit seggsy but like a minuscule bit u wont even notice it i swear xx there’s not much social media in this one, mostly written lol. as always lmk wat u think n thank u for all ur kind words n sooo manyyyy ideassss!!! love u lots

ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

It’s happening, you think, picking the discreet, angelic white color for your astronaut - with a halo and all, truly, you are a seraph that stepped through the gates of heaven and descended onto earth to grace these morals with your presence...quite literally, you’re not only donning white in game, but also in real life, cute as a button or more like as a bunny. Cat girls are overrated - cat boys, on the other hand, you’ll ardently defend till your last breath - but bunny girls...Safe to say, your chat had been going feral. Your endless ego is fed well. You even swore on your heart that no devilish trickery would follow in this game - you had left your snake ways behind you.

No one believed you. The Roaches know you too fucking well.

The influx of new subs, however, do not. Look at this cute girl! She wouldn’t hurt a fly! You chuckle at the compliments. At the exact same moment, Rae pipes up on the discord call, “Y/n is leering and cackling evilly. No one trust her.”

Demon woman herself must be watching your stream before starting her own. You pout, all adorable and innocent, but your eyes gleam slyly. Truly, a mastermind of manipulation! Look at you go! The chat is swooning. The viewer number steadily climbs past 16K and you hum happily, welcoming all that decided to join your little clan, “Don’t listen to Rae. Wifey is mad because I said I’m not bringing her back a souvenir. Well guess what, bitch, I’m the gift.”

Your perfect image does not quite align with your tone, nor the affectionate nickname you call your roommate (bitch, not wifey). The new viewers are none the wiser though, just like your new stream mates.

There is laughter from people you don’t quite know. The lobby is almost full, but not everyone has trickled in yet.

“Filing divorce papers right now.” Rae mumbles, but you hear the smile in her voice. It makes you crack a grin, too.

More hello’s and shy introductions to the people in the lobby. Sykkuno’s green astronaut pops in with a upbeat, “Hey, everyone! Hi, Y/n!” as his character circles around yours. A collective awww echoes in your stream chat as you, quite breathless at the wholesomeness, reply with a “Hi! Hi hi!” as well.

Corpse is next to join, mysteriously ominous. The discord call is pure chaos, everyone screaming over the other variations of his name while stressing different syllables. Silent as a grave, he just stands there, his black astronaut seemingly eyeing everyone in the lobby.

Alas, when the noise dies down, he utters, “Whaddup, baby.” and it’s pandemonium all over again. You are screeching/laughing along with the rest. His astronaut swiftly glides to Sykkuno, still circling around you, “Hey, Sykkuno.” He says. The latter abruptly stops. The game hasn’t even started, and already - betrayal! Sykkuno starts circling around Corpse now, leaving you in the dust.

“Hey, dude!”

“Yo,” You interrupt, “I’m like here too, yeah?”

“Fight, fight, fight!” Pokimane jeers. You can’t see her, but you’re certain she’s pumping her fists in the air.

“Let’s leave the bloodshed for the game, yeah?” Dream offers past her laugh ridden urging.

“No, fuck that, let’s start this shit right now,” Charlie declares - his monotone is strangely pleasant to the ear, and you lean back in your chair with a thoughtful hum. Something about his energy just clicks with yours instantly, but perhaps you’re judging too quickly- “Got my fucking knife ready to slit some throats. You can all pretend you aren’t ready to kill on sight, but that’s not me. I’ll teabag your dead fucking body.”

-yeah, no, your initial estimate had been correct! What a pleasant surprise, you feel like you and he will get along beautifully.

“Way to be subtle, Charles.” Rae snorts.

“Subtle doesn’t make an interesting game, Rae,” He’s quick to bite back, “and if I’m Impostor, you bet your fucking ass I’m going after you first.”

“Noooooo!” She shrieks, rushing to your astronaut, which is still just standing there, abandoned, like the equivalent of that one emoji, “Y/n, protect me.”

“Of course, baby.” You purr.

There’s mumbling in the discord call, though it’s barely audible. Corpse seems to be repeating the word to himself: Baby...Baby?...Baby...

“You’re gonna stab me in the back the first chance you get, won’t you?” She questions, already painfully aware of the answer.

“You know it!”

“Finally, someone that’s not fucking cowering in their boots and flaunting their real nature.” Charlie says, “Y/n, form a Big Dick Alliance with me.”

“Oh for sure, man.” You agree immediately, trailing to his in game figure, “Let’s show these virgins how it’s done.”

“This is going to be a mess, isn’t it?” Sean’s voice rings with a cheerful laugh, making you flustered. Yes, you’re actually playing with THE JacksepticeyeTM. You still haven’t fully wrapped your head around that part, “I’m very excited to see where this will go.”

“Nowhere good.” You say with unparalleled sincerity - every word you speak to him, the icon, the legend, the one of the few youtubers you actually actively follow, must be genuine. You doubt you can lie to him. He’s too good of a person. You admire him too much. Stuck between wanting to be a shady bitch and an absolute saint, you refrain from addressing him more - you are simply not worthy.

its the y/n trying to act like a normal person in front of jack for me

ikr she looks ready to join the monastery

each day we stray closer to gods light???

Your viewers are snide as always. Gosh, you love them.

The last player pops in, fashionably late, “Hey, y’all.”

“Hey, Bretman!” The call choruses somewhat harmoniously.

“Hi, daddy.” He’s speaking to Corpse now, a smile in his voice - you can hear it even past the static of his atrocious mic. Your eyes widen, eyebrows shooting up. Your friends are cackling, but confusion refrains you from doing the same - were you not the only one Corpse offered, seemingly so long ago!, to be his sugar baby?

One betrayal after the other. You’re glad for the Big Dick Alliance. The name has a nice right to it, too.

Corpse laughs, “...Hey, Bretman. How are you today?”

Damn, two sentences for him, but not even a word spoken to you!? You’re already scripting a very melodramatic paragraph you will text him after the stream. With poorly masked discontent, you mutter, “Wow, thanks for such a warm welcome, Corpse, my day’s going great, yeah, loving the company.”

“Now now miss girl,” Bretman chimes, “we can’t be all daddy’s favorite.”

“Careful,” Charlie drones, “I think you just got yourself onto Y/n’s shit list.”

“Right next to Corpse Husband and Valkyrae.” You agree, “Sykkuno!” You suddenly call him.

“Uhm-Uh-Yes?” Is his nervous reply.

“You’re safe.” You state coldly, “For now.”

“You are not going after Sykkuno on my watch.” It must be a belated holiday miracle because Corpse finally decides to address you. His words seem to awake something in him, “Hey-Hey-Hey-” He swiftly glides to you, standing right next to your minute virtuous angel, “When are you coming back to Cali?”

corpse stop acting weird challenge

literally omg lmao

he does bring up a good point y/n y u not in cali yet?!

^pack it up corpse simp he disrespected the queen when he didnt say hi

“Back off, buddy,” Charlie interjects, “this spot is for Big Dick Alliance members only.”

“I’m never returning.” You inform him, your voice cold like the Arctic snow, and the look in your eyes is no kinder. You feel like you’re having a stare down through screen.

Silence stretches. Is this an intimidation tactic? Because if it is, it’s a paltry one. Your conviction to be petty is stronger than any vulnerability you might feel.

“Then I have nothing to say to you.” He admits and fucks right off with that. Fine, go join Sykkuno and Rae in their little corner of betrayal! Friendship ended with Corpse, now Charlie is your best friend.

“Okay, guys, guys, guys-” Toast, noting this is going to spiral any minute now, tries to catch their attention, “Let’s start?!”

You look into your camera, and the roaches know what you’re thinking. You’re twins like that, communicating telepathically. You are taking back your tender promise of not being a conniving bastard. It’s fucking on. You will destroy everyone in your path, starting with the guy you have a stupid crush on - maybe?! Feelings are confusing, you’d rather just not think point blank period.

With no objections from the cast, the counter ticks away seconds and, for the first round, you’re stuck as CREW MATE.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Charlie is a gift. Truly, you had not expected such a sudden, wonderful relationship to bloom. How have you not known of him sooner?! It’s a crime that you hadn’t spoken to him earlier. You are a 100% certain if you had found him before you started streaming, he would’ve been a big inspiration.

The two of you do your silly little tasks and curse like sailors, commenting about this and that thanks to proximity chat. You wouldn’t have been able to stand the claustrophobic silence if it was just a normal Among Us game - to think, missing out on all his foully worded quips! It almost springs a tear into your eye. He’s just as unhinged as you.

worried about this dynamic

its a trainwreck lol i love it plz collab more plz

Caught in a headed discussion in Electrical - TikTok trends, or audios specifically - you defend the app the best you can. Charlie thinks it’s super cringe, and you insist it’s part of the charm as you connect wires.

“I mean, have...-do you know that one audio, the one that goes, like,” You’re spilling your words, heated, frustrated that he’s so dismissive of the app that literally saved 2020, “it goes like, uhm,” You clear your throat, prep your voice - even take a sip of your favorite drink. Drawing the syllables, you try your best to make it drop an octave - it must sound like you’re doing an atrociously bad and nauseatingly scratchy Corpse impression with an extra dramatic flair, “My assssssss, your cockkk, you do the mathhh.”

“Did-Did I just-” You freeze hearing Corpse’s voice, finally done with your task. Charlie is muffling his laughter behind his palm; Corpse’s astronaut stands in the doorway, “What the fuck did I just walk into?” He seems genuinely confused, though a strangely winded. You’re mortified. Your shoulders are shaking. You look at the stream chat but it’s going too fast for you to follow. Manic laughter bubbles in your chest and you squeeze your eyes shut, mouth split into a toothy grin, lowering your head and trying to hide the blush dusting your cheeks.

“Hey? Guys? What the fuck are you talking about?” He questions again.

“Honestly?” Charlie chimes, “No fucking clue. TikTok, I think. Ask Y/n.”

You can’t reply. You’re crying. You cover your face with your palms, muttering a soft oh my god before bursting into a full blow laugh, throwing your head back, the motion accidentally knocking your headphones off.

“Y/n.” Corpse calls you, “Fuck was that?”

You’re howling. Your stomach hurts. There are literal tears in your eyes. You think Charlie might be laughing too, but you can’t really tell over your loud screeching. Hastily fixing your headphones, you wipe away the tears stuck to your lower lashes, heaving, “S-Sorry, I-” You stutter, breaking into another fit of giggles. Corpse patiently waits you to calm down. Catching your breath, you start again with a sniffle, “TikTok, yeah.” You idly fix your hair, trying to bite down a smile, “It’s an audio.”

“What- What kind of videos are you watching?”

“The good kind.” Your reply is instant, merciless, “Also, why are you here? We’re having a BDA meeting, you know.”

“I-I...” He trails off, “I...I heard people talking and...I just came here to check it out, but...I’m regretting it.” There’s a lilt in his voice, and you know he doesn’t regret jack shit. You bet he’s smiling. You wish you could see it.

“Bitch, then leave!” You huff. You aren’t sure what is with him today, and you don’t want to stick around and find out - his playfulness makes your stomach flip at the most inappropriate times! Like when you’re trying to sound threatening. You must retreat posthaste, “No, wait, I’ll do it for you.” You say, brushing past his character. Charlie follows after you.

“Dude, you’re so fucking lucky neither of us are the Impostor because you’d be deader than I’ve been feeling since I was 10.” Your favorite companion comments. Charlie is truly a modern wordsmith. You’re pretty sure you adore him, because you’re nodding your head, so quick to agree with him that even you’re surprised.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

A meeting is called. You spare a glance at your fallen crew mates. They will be missed. Sean most of all, God, why does heaven always take the good ones?! The game feels emptier without him, even if you really only passed him once on your trek to Cafeteria with Charlie.

You may or may not have been avoiding him, afraid you’d accidentally say something horrible and he would hate you. It’s a silly fear, though a deep one. And with Charlie keeping you company, you had not uttered a single objectively good, or even coherent, sentence. Your parents can’t watch this stream once it’s uploaded onto your Youtube channel. They know you’re barely keeping it together in most of your videos, but here, now? Yeah, no. Charlie is already hard to listen to on his own for sensitive viewers, and hearing you agree with literally everything he says with your own chaotic ideas? Your dad would stumble into an early grave.

Mom probably wouldn’t mind too much, but you’d have to explain your relationship status again. She is under the assumption that everyone you collab with is your significant other. You’d say it began with Sykkuno, though the exclamation of “Finally! My daughter isn’t pathetically single! We need to celebrate.” had started with Rae. Truly, a scandal.

Speaking of which, Sykkuno is gone, too, but you had time to mourn him already. You found his body roughly ten minutes ago; so torn with the fresh agony of heartbreak, you could not do anything else but cry. It was Charlie, bless his heart, that reported it.

“Someone killed Jack,” You say, voice dripping with venom, “court is now in session. I’m ready to vote the fucker out.”

People speak all at once. Toast roars over them, “ORDER! ODER IN COURT!” as he slams his hand onto his desk repeatedly. That seems to work, though briefly.

“I think it’s Y/n.” Corpse says. You stare at him, hand gripping your heart, mouth falling open in surprise.

flame him

corpse boutta be a corpse fr

beat his ass queen!!!!!

“Pardon my french,” You grumble, “but nani the fuck?!”

“It’s definitely Y/n, I found her and Charlie conspiring in Electrical. Surrealist experience of my fucking life, but it’s definitely her.”

“Dude, we’ve been over this,” Charlie sighs, shushing Rae who was about to comment something - knowing your luck, it was probably in favor of the man throwing you under the bus, “we would’ve snapped your fucking neck the moment you walked in. But we didn’t.”

“Yeah, we didn’t.” Corpse notes, “I said nothing about you, I’m just saying it’s definitely her. She probably didn’t kill in front of you because of your stupid alliance-”

“Someone sounds salty because he wasn’t invited.” Pokimane snickers.

“-or possibly she did tell you and you won’t betray her for the exact same reason.”

“That’s some big brain logic you pulled there, genius,” Charlie says, absolutely unimpressed, “sure you didn’t have an aneurysm trying to connect all of that together?”

“Well,” Rae pipes up, “Y/n and Charlie did say they will kill right before the game started. If you ask me, it’s not unbelievable. And Sykkuno was sorta on the shit list.”

“I’m writing down your name twice, Rachell.” You spit.

“Not helping your case at all, Y/n...” Dream worries, “And Rae makes a good point. Charlie and you have professed desire for murder. I’m just saying! It’s a bit suspicious, you know?”

The next words to leave Corpse’s lips sound incredibly smug, “See?” He drawls. The pressure is getting to you - you don’t understand where this beguiling talent of his to convince literally everyone comes from, but it doesn’t inspire any confidence. Your fist suddenly feels incredibly lonely, so useless - oh, how you long to swing at him, “It’s definitely Y/n.”

“I dunno...” Toast mumbles.

“It’s Y/n.”

“Corpse-” You try, but he's ignoring you - shocker, as if he hadn’t been doing that from the very start of this stupid game - and chanting your name like it’s a fucking mantra or something, a smile in his voice, knowing, relishing in the fact that he’s grating on your nerves, “FIRST OF ALL,” You scream into the mic, successfully cutting him off; catching your breath, you exhale, and continue, calmly, lowly, “get my pretty name out of your mouth.”

There’s a pause full of tense silence.

Then, there’s a sound, seemingly stuck in the back of his throat, “...O-Oh...?”

“Second of all,” You continue, words like honey dipped in arsenic, “This is the clearest smear campaign I have ever witnessed. By how hard you’re trying to frame me for fuck knows what reason, I’m led to believe it’s you that killed them. You’re the Impostor.”

“Corpse wouldn’t kill Sykkuno, though.” Rae comments, skeptical.

“Then the other Impostor did it.” You counter.

“Maybe you’re both Impostors.” Pokimane chirps.

“Y/n would never betray the Big Dick Alliance like that.” Charlie states.

You grin, “Charlie, I literally love you.”

“Wait hold up now,” Corpse seems to get his bearings together, “what’s this about love I’m hearing?”

“I have none for you, dick.” You snap, flipping him off. Your chat cheers. While he can’t see it, you hope he senses it through the screen, “I officially hate you.”

“No, wait-”

“Boo, Corpse, you suck.” Toast laughs.

“Y/n, please-”

“Let’s all vote for Corpse Husband, okay?” You say it like it’s his full official name with an encouraging smile and multiple soft nods. Sykkuno can’t be here to nod, so you’ll do it for him. You eye the rapidly decreasing timer before clicking on Corpse’s figure and voting for him. The VOTED icon instantly pops up beside your adorable astronaut.

“Baby, I-” It slips past his lips so easily, as if he’s not even thinking about it, like it’s only natural to call you that and a spike of anxiety shoots up, making you glare. It’s only halfhearted. You try your best to ignore the rapid and uncoordinated pulses of your heart. Replace unwanted feelings with anger and hate - works like a charm, every time.

“You are not allowed to call me that.” You hiss. The chat spams snake emojis.

“Wait-” Bretman chimes, “Hold up, y’all, slow down a minute. Why does Corpse never call me baby?”

“Yeah!” Pokimane agrees, “I want to be baby, too!”

Pokimane may not have been called baby, but you just single-handedly decided her nickname for her - Target 4. Welcome to the shit list, she is officially your public enemy number 1. You aren’t sure why the thought of Corpse ever referring to anyone else as baby makes you sick to your stomach (you actually do know why, but brain no think at the moment), but you wish this whole conversation never happened. You don’t like it.

20 seconds left. More VOTED icons appear by your friends. Corpse is the last one to cast his ballot at, you assume, you, as the rest wait for his quick explanation before everyone (or not) returns to the game, “...Because she’s my baby.”

Goodbye. Life had been sweet, and there was sorrow, though the amount of embarrassment you feel now is worse than when the internet found your cringe worthy high school pictures on your mom’s Facebook. It’s a mixture of dread and excitement - the pleasure of being noticed, cherished even, though anxious from vulnerability. Someone is screaming a very prolonged “WHAAAAT?!”, or maybe multiple people are, you aren’t sure, your ears start to hurt from the loud, conflicting cacophony of voices as you stare blankly at the screen. You received two votes, just like Corpse, Charlie got one, the rest skipped. With no one flung out, you all find yourself back in Cafeteria again.

Baby. My baby? My baby. My baby. The sentence is playing ping-pong in your mind, reverberating louder each time. You’re actually speechless for the first time in your life; your chest hurts, your heart beating so fast your hands start shaking. Had he meant it? Or was this a some joke? Was he trying to get a rise out of you again? You might just go insane from so many questions. My baby. Holy shit, this is a heart attack, this is what a heart attack feels like, dear God, you figured you at least had ten years before you get one!

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First round ends with IMPOSTORS raining victorious. Your sixth sense had been working wonders since, true to you previous estimate, it had been Corpse. His companion was Pokimane. For absolutely no reason what’s so ever, you change her name once more from Target 4 to Target 1. Normally, you’re all for girls supporting girls. Men don’t deserve anything, really, but now you’re so flustered and still reeling from what you are 80% sure was cardiac arrest that you genuinely don’t care about your established morals.

Round two starts without much deliberation. You get CREW MATE again; the game must sense your growing bloodlust, making sure that once you do get IMPOSTOR, you will not hold back. True power is granted to those who are ready and strong enough to wield it. You wait for your moment with bated breath.

Charlie is taken from you too early. The two of you were once again caught in a discussion - God knows about what, Minecraft, hentai, oh! your server! - as you tried to card swipe for the umpteenth time. The lights blew out and you just knew one of you was getting murdered there and then. Charlie’s voice abruptly cut off, and you think a part of you died with him.

It’s a cold meeting; with your new best friend being the first to go, everyone decides to skip. You proclaim you seek vengeance. When the meeting comes to an end, Sykkuno is the first to offer his condolences.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” He says, and while he’s not in Brooklyn, you somehow feel him patting your back. You feign a sniffle.

“There’s nothing to apologize for...” You murmur sadly, “Unless...” Your voice turns sharp as the knife that was surely twisted into Charlie’s back, “It was you?”

“NO!” He exclaims, “I would never-you gotta believe me! I would never kill him. I know he’s important to you. I wouldn’t do that, I swear.”

“He was like a brother to me.” You admit, solemn, “Charlie, if you’re haunting me right now, know I will avenge you. I will not let this go.”

Sykkuno hums, circling around you, “Hey, I have a task in Greenhouse. Would you, uh--Would like to, uhm, join me?” Despite the shaky start, he finishes on a firm, pleasant note. He’s trying to cheer you up. Having lost your closest friend, he’s offering you his company. You accept with a soft smile and a cute “Yes, please!” and he releases an airy little laugh. The two of you make your way to your favorite place in map MIRA.

It’s difficult to stay sad for long when Sykkuno’s so sweet; the atmosphere of the Greenhouse is strangely calming; your problems seem to be left behind the shut doors. If you tried hard enough, you could imagine being in an actual Greenhouse - the warm, damp air clinging to your skin, the unmistakable smell of earth and vegetation, the pleasant silence broken only by yours and his hushed voices and clumsy footsteps.

The two of you are talking. Mainly about your choice of attire. Cat first, Sykkuno ponders aloud, doing his task as you watch the plants grow, now bunny, what’s next? You affirm that you will most likely dress up in cow-print next, or as an adorable sheep. He laughs, admitting you’ll look good in anything before he trails off. His awkwardness is really endearing.

“Or!” You chirp happily, content with being locked away with him for the whole game. The idea must be playing in his mind, too, because he seems in no rush to leave, “I could, like, dress as someone from My Hero Academia. I watched the stream you did with Stella, the one where she made you look like Todoroki. It was really cute. You were really cute.”

“Oh, uhm-well, uh, thank you, thanks, I, uhm-” He clears his throat, and despite his stutter, you hear the smile in his voice, “I-I think you’d look better, though. Not as Todoroki. Or, probably as Todoroki, too. But, uhm, what character are you thinking about?”

“Maybe Momo?”

“Momo!” He yeps, “Momo is good. Yeah, she’s great. You’ll-uhm-you’ll look amazing. Really. Momo is awesome. Very pretty. Just like you.”

You are blushing. A stupid, toothy grin makes your cheeks hurt. Your eyes flicker to the chat, but again, it’s going wild. Giggling, you thank him for his sweet words, so giddy it’s honestly embarrassing. Why can’t you stop smiling? This is incriminating. You hide your lips behind your palm.

“...What’s this?” Corpse question. You had failed to note his sudden appearance, too busy gushing. “Am I interrupting?”

“Hey, Corpse!” Sykkuno greets. For someone so awkward and shy, he sure is good at hiding it when he wants to. Perhaps it’s all an act and you had been deviously tricked! Probably not, but you can’t help but narrow your eyes suspiciously, finally able to calm down. You definitely underestimated him, you just haven’t figured out how yet, “Not really! Y/n was sad Charlie died so I took her here.”

“You interrupted our date, dipshit.” You deadpan.

“...Fuck you say?” Corpse dares, his voice low and somewhat menacing - for someone who exclusively portrays his emotions through only his voice, he’s incredibly hard to read. This is payback. Your love for wreaking havoc resurfaces suddenly. Serves him right for pulling all this ignoring shit at the start. Maybe you’ll make him say oh again.

Your sly smirk is promptly wiped. Fuck. He said oh, he literally said oh out loud. The Teruhashi fangirl in you is screaming. You had been so caught up in defending yourself you didn’t even register it at first. Alarmed, you look at the camera, then at the chat. First oh, then my baby. There’s no way he had been teasing you, and this proves it. Holy shit. You mouth the words “HE SAID OH!” for your audience only.

now she notices

snail pace baby we’ve been loosing our shit for the past hour

corpse x y/n saikik au enemies to lovers 500k words slow burn im here for it

opening wattpad rn^

Your heart races in your chest - it might be considered an Olympic medalist at this point; flustered yet again, you wish you could cave into yourself. You should’ve brought your bright blue wig with you to Brooklyn. Turns out it would have been perfect for this stream. Yes, yes thinking about unnecessary details always works in distracting you from the butterflies throwing a fucking rave in your stomach.

“I guess it is a date!” Sykkuno admits, “Kinda after a funeral, but still.”

Corpse hums. You’re still too stunned to say anything. The black astronaut with adorable cat ears approaches Sykkuno.

“It’s not.” He states. Your mouth falls open in shock as your date, your companion, the Shoto to your Momo is murdered in cold blood right in front of you. His lifeless body, cut in half, lays on the tiles by the growing flowers, right beside you, “You didn’t see shit.”

“...I didn’t see shit.” Is all you can utter, breathless and terrified.

“Thaaaat’s fucking right, baby.” Corpse coos, “Now I’m gonna report it, and I’ll say we found Sykkuno together. Better stick close to me after the meeting, got it?”

If Sykkuno is Shoto, then Corpse is definitely Dabi.

why is that kinda hot tho omg

didn’t know i needed dom corpse since now but i do

y/n looks like shes boutta throw up lmao

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You follow him around like a lost puppy - because what else is left for you to do!? You’re helpless in this situation. He’s got you in the palm of his hand, successfully eliminating everyone you had previously interacted with. First it was Charlie, then Sykkuno, even Sean, who said hello in passing, was shot instantly. Real Sangwoo behavior. You almost want to scream warnings at everyone to not approach you. You cannot mourn another lost crew mate, you don’t think your conscience can take it. But words fail to form. You’re too weak. You fake cry to your audience. They’re quick to remind you to stop acting like a little bitch.

“Mean.” Is all you say, eyeing the comments.

“Hm?”

“Was talking to the roaches.”

“What are they saying?”

“That I should betray you.”

“...Better not.”

A shiver shoots up your spine and you half believe he will bust down your door and drag you into his basement for real. A nervous laugh slips past your lips, “I won’t, I won’t.” You reassure him, “Don’t worry, I’m sticking with you. I haven’t seen shit.”

“I like that you listen to me. You always this agreeable?”

“You’re kinda not giving me a choice right now.” You grumble, vending yourself a drink while he looms behind you, protecting you. From who?! Himself?!

“Oh my fucking God, finally,” Bretman exclaims, “girl, I’ve been running around the whole map trynna find someone, is everyone like, dead?”

You’re scared to reply. Corpse does it for you, “Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, maybe? Not sure. Where have you been?”

“Oh you know,” Bretman grins, “doing tasks, talking shit, the usual. You two are not, like, Impostors right?”

You shoot a look at Corpse, but he obviously can’t see it. Biting your lip, you murmur, “Nope.”

“Just your regular crew mates doing regular crew mate things.” Corpse says, no, purrs. Because that’s not suspicious at all. You’d recommend Bretman to run, and not only because that sounded shady as fuck. But he seems to enjoy danger, or he just doesn’t care.

“Hmmmm, crew mates, sure. Miss girl Y/n,” He’s addressing you now; you smile anxiously, “How come every time I see you, you’re with a different man?! Like damn, leave some for the rest of us, for real!”

You like Bretman. You like his high-pitched whine and drawl. You would like him even more if not for the complex situation at hand. You fear for his life. Chewing at your bottom lip, you snicker, “Sorry, Bret. I can leave you Corpse if you want?”

He laughs, “Girl, I’d say yes so fucking quick, but I know he wouldn’t want that. Normally I wouldn’t care, but y’all are such a cute couple it’s making me not want to be a shady motherfucking bitch. Changing my ways, embracing the lord. Love it.”

Corpse doesn’t correct him that you are, in fact, not dating. His lack of reaction unnerves you slightly. Does he...? No! No think! Only exist! You catch that train of thought and steer it away from forbidden territory. Looks like it’s up to you to clear the air, and that is exactly what you do after trying to swallow down the lump in your throat, “Uh, we’re not together, actually. We’re just really good friends.”

“Bitch, then move over,” Bretman says snappily,”go like, back to your other boyfriends. Or find another one. I think I saw Dream near Navigation.”

“Near Navigation, huh?” Corpse hums thoughtfully. It’s a subtle warning, but you catch it. Yeah, even if you try running, Dream’s going to join your other ‘boyfriends’ in the afterlife. Granted, killing someone by just talking with them is kind of cool. Or maybe Stockholm Syndrome is finally kicking in, “Bret, the thing is, Y/n’s scared of dying, so she asked me to stay with her.”

It’s disturbing how good at lying he is. It is also really really attractive, as bizarre as that is.

y/n stop being in a toxic relationship with corpse challenge

making fanart of this omg her face

its the blushing for me girl get your head outta the gutter!

^she cant, it lives there

“Baby, you’re gonna fucking die if you stick with her,” Bretman points out, “have you noticed the mortality rate of her partners? Rest in peace, daddy.”

“He’s right, you know.” You mutter, dramatically looking to the side, “I’m no good, Corpse.”

“Not leaving you, end of discussion. Bretman, join us?” Corpse offers, catching you by surprise. He might still be lying, though. Creating a false sense of security before eliminating Bretman. Probably would laugh while doing it, too. Wow, he truly is evil.

Turns out he doesn’t have to do any of that, because when Dream strolls into Cafeteria, he kills Bretman instead. The two Impostors are finally revealed. You promised not to snitch on Corpse, but you didn’t say shit about not exposing Dream. You press the REPORT button and say just that: “Dream just murdered Bret right in front of me and Corpse.”

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The last meeting is called. Dream had been voted out with the help of Corpse, and now only you, he, and Rae remain.

“Baby, you know what to do.”

The VOTED icon pops up beside Corpse’s astronaut. Rae wheezes, “No! Y/n, it’s not me, you gotta believe me, I swear it’s not me!”

“...I really don’t know,” You murmur, “I’ve been with Corpse a lot, and...Rae, I’m not sure...”

“Please! I swear it on my Kagayama cardboard cut out, I’m not the Impostor, please! You know me, I’d never lie to you like this.”

“She’s definitely lying.” Corpse says, sounding pleased.

“Don’t listen to him! Remember, during the first round, when he tried to convince us that you were the Impostor? He’s doing the same shit to me!”

“I also remember you agreeing with him.” You remind her.

“I was stupid! Small dumb brain moment! He was using us to win! He’s using you right now!” She votes, “Please, Y/n, make the right choice.”

You’re silent for a moment.

“I’m gonna...I’m gonna vote for who I think it is.” You lastly say.

A slow, lazy grin makes it’s way onto your lips, eyes gleaming mischievously. You had not forgotten your promise to your brother from another mother, you had not forgotten the pride of the BDA, you had not forgotten your beautiful friendship. Two miniature astronauts pop up by Corpse’s at the exact moment Rae screeches “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES!”

“Fuck.” Is all Corpse says with a laugh.

The screen changes, informing of the first CREW MATE victory.

Your ears are assaulted with different voices as you appear in the lobby.

“Now that’s what I’m fucking talking about.” Charlie raves, “I swear to fucking God, Y/n, you even got me going for a second. Pulled some 1000 IQ shit right there. It was fucking amazing. Best back stabbing I’ve seen in a while, and I’ve seen a lot.”

“That was absolutely fantastic, Y/n.” Sean applauds, “I really thought you joined Corpse like some crew mate accomplice or something. Can’t believe you switched on him at the last second.”

“That’s my wifey!” Rae cheers, strolling to you, “Love you, mwah.”

“Hey, Corpse,” Charlie calls him, “How does it feel to be a fucking loser?”

“I’m surprisingly fine with it.”

yeah he would be lmao

mom is the best snake ever i love you sm y/n

rae and y/n’s friendship....the feeeeeels

As the rest sing your praises for another solid minute or two, the third round begins. CREW MATE again. Though, just because you’re stuck as an underpaid worker in a dying spaceship, it doesn’t mean you’re innocent. Your last round proved that quite well. You can’t help but silently snicker.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

TAGLIST IS CLOSED!

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury--moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse social media au #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fanfic #social media au #corpse husband imagine #myso #make you say oh #sykkuno x reader #if ya squint #imagine #imagines #reader #reader insert

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dr4cking · 3 years

Text

The Unexpected Summer.

draco malfoy x reader | smut |

it was the summer time, all of the students in hogwarts has returned to spend their summer in their own house, and as for the slytherins squad, draco, y/n, blaise, pansy, the greengrass sisters, theo, crabbe and goyle are spending their summer together at y/n's manor because her parents will not gonna be home for the summer this time. the boys were hanging out at the pool, talking about some girls and taking pictures.

as for the girls, they were still in y/n's room, picking out their bikinis, getting ready, hyping up and complimenting each other.

"oh my god y/n!! you look so hot in that bikini, draco will drool once he sees you in it!" astoria said as she admiring y/n in her bikini, the others agreeing with her making y/n blush.

"yes you do y/n! draco will lose his mind when he sees you! and if he doesnt take you to the bed immediately, i definitely would" pansy said and earned a whistle from daphne, making y/n blushed more.

"oh shut up you two youre making me blush! y'all look hot too, and im not wearing this for him, we're just bestfriends!" y/n chuckles at her last sentence.

"ooh! i smell lies, you know you're not a good liar" daphne said mocking her singing the last part making all the girls laugh.

y/n just rolled her eyes playfully and walked out of the door, the girls following behind.

as they walked out to the pool, the boys instantly turning their heads looking at their way, whistling at the girls walking like a queens.

"woah damn y/n, you're making me speechless" draco said smiling cheekily to y/n, he feels his part twitching under his boxers when he saw her, he approaches her and giving a kiss on her cheek making her blush, taking her hand on his as their friends go wild.

"told you, babe!" pansy shouted as she jumped into the pool.

"what is she talking about y/n?" draco asks while y/n blushing madly now, giving pansy a death stare.

"n- nothing! you know how she is" she chuckled nervously.

"if you dont tell me the truth y/n," draco pick her up by her waist and throw her to the pool, he laughed uncontrollably seeing her mad face as she surfaces.

"oh no you didnt just do that draco!!" y/n yelled as she get out of the pool, draco take it as his cue to run, y/n already chasing him from behind. they both were laughing and shouting.

draco keep running back into her house, y/n still followed him behind, and as he ran to the corner, he stuck and have nowhere to go only y/n's room at the sight, he heard her footsteps behind and quickly running to her room, before he get the chance to close the door y/n already appeared and smirking at him, she pushed draco onto the bed, tackling him. waters from her wet hair dripped down to his face as they both giggles.

"ha! gotcha ferret! dont you dare mess with the queen!" y/n laugh as she straddles him on her bed, pinning his hands above him causing him to flustered.

"yeah and what you gonna do about it, little girl?" draco smirk at her trying to escape his hands, fuck, y/n looks so hot on top of him, he thought to himself.

"oh im gonna tied you and throw you to the pool, ferret!" y/n giggles still pinning his hands not letting him go that easily, what she didnt realizes she was moving and rolling her hips on his crotch. draco screwed his eyes shut and let out a moan making her freeze.

"fuck y/n you need to get off of me now" draco said as she didnt make a move while his boner started to grow underneath her, she snapped back into the reality.

"or what, draco?" y/n said leaning her face and whisper seductively into his ear, rolling her hips harder on his one more time, making him moaned again.

"or im gonna flipped us over, im gonna be on top and fuck you senseless and maybe ruin our friendship" draco replied boldly causing y/n to whimpered at his words getting aroused down there, looking back to him, she smirked.

"what are you waiting for then? do it, ruin our friendship, draco" and at that draco flipped them over, now on top of y/n, started to take all control in his hands.

"you sure about this, bestie? you might be not ready for my huge cock" now it was his time to pinned her hands, smirking at her.

"you're all talk drakey, prove it to me" y/n stuck out her tongue, mocking him, draco scoffed and leaned down to her, catching her tongue, colliding it with his, he rubbed his boner on her clothed pussy, grinding his hips on her, they both let out a moan at the friction.

"oh whats got you so excited, baby? you're so wet, look its making a spot on your bikini" draco chuckles rubbing her wet underwear making y/n whined.

"merlin draco just stop talking and put your 'oh so big' dick inside me already" draco gasped at her words, his smirk getting wider as he sat up to take off his boxers, and y/n does the same too.

"no, leave it on, i wanna fuck you in that bikini, it has been teasing me ever since you walked your cute ass to the pool" draco pointing at her to not taking her bikini off, so she just watched him pulling down and kicking his boxers to the floor, his dick standing tall in front of her, she widen at his size, she has no idea he was this big, she thought he was all talk. draco noticed and chuckles lowly at her.

"now you believe me, hm? why so surprised? never had someone this big? dont worry, it will be all yours after this, baby" draco pushes her panties aside, they both know they cant hold it anymore, he starts to pushing in, slowly to not hurt her and wanting her to feel every part of his veiny cock going inside her, stretching her walls out so wide as he finally fully inside. y/n let out a scream of his name and draco let her adjust.

"fuck you're so big draco, god.. you're destroying my inside" y/n wrapped her legs on his waist, her hands on his neck to pull him for a kiss to ease the pain. they kissed as if their lives depends on it.

"move now draco" y/n broke the kiss and draco started to move slowly, pulling out and slamming it again, each time it gets deeper and harder as he started to pick up the pace.

"fuck- y/n, your cunt is so tight, hugging my cock so tight, shit- feels so good" draco started to pounding harder and faster leaving no space between their bodies, he groans as he watched his cock disappeared inside her.

"holyshit draco, you're tearing me apart" y/n cant control her sinful noises anymore, both of them is in the cloud nine, feeling heavenly, draco look down at her like she's an angel, his hands found her breasts, grabbing and squeeze them through her bikini, he pulls her tits out of it and starts to toying and pinching her nipples, his mouth latching to one of them instantly, sucking and biting softly like a baby.

"fuck, this feel so much better than i've imagined, y/n" draco plopped her wet boobs out and fastening his thrust, going up to mark her neck, giving his love bites.

"you've imagined this?" y/n asked through her moans, her hands tugging at his blonde hair.

"you dont?" draco replaced his mouth with his hand, choking her while he kisses her jaw and bite her earlobe, sending butterflies to her stomach. y/n just nodded shutting her eyes in pleasure, draco smirk and whispers a "naughty girl" into her ear.

y/n let out a sudden scream of his name and he knows it, he had just hit her spot, he continues pounding into her spot making y/n going crazy and a mess under him.

"oh my god- dray i‘m so close-" y/n warned him as her high started to approaching her.

"cum love, cum on your best friend's cock, show me how much of a slutty best friend you are for me" and that was it for y/n, she screamed his name one last time loudly, shutting her eyes in pleasure seeing the stars as she cum hard around his cock, her orgasm is so good that it makes her head dizzy, draco groans at the sight of her juices coating his cock, his thrusts getting sloppier, and he pulls out of her and knelt infront of y/n's face.

draco jerks himself off in front of her face, his hand gripping at her hair, placing her face closer to his cock, and with final pump, he spilled all of his warm thick cums on y/n's face, it landed on her cheeks, forehead, chin, and nose, basically all over her face, y/n stuck out her tongue and catches some of his cum that still hasnt ended, draco shoves his cock to her mouth to land the last spurts of his cum and ride out his orgasm. y/n look up to him innocently and swallow it, he smiles at her, pulling out and taps his now soft dick on her mouth twice, he wipes his cum on her face with his fingers and shove them inside her mouth, y/n suck them clean and he rolls to the side.

"its official y/n, our friendship is ruined now, why dont we becoming more than best friends?" draco laughed as he pulls her waist to get closer to him, kissing her lips passionately showering her with love.

"sounds like a good idea, drakey" y/n smirked at the nickname as she broke the kiss.

they both getting dressed and walking back to the pool, and everyone has know it when they saw their flustered face, sweaty and marked bodies.

"shut up, all of you." y/n grabs draco's face and kiss him in front of their friends, they give them a middle fingers as the others whistling and shouting.

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco smut #draco oneshot #draco x reader #draco x y/n #harry potter

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sunflowervolvimp3 · 4 years

Text

changes (best friend!harry)

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

Pairing: best friend!Harry x reader

Word Count: 17k (holy shit)

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

{masterlist}

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

“And how’s that going?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry just grins at you.

…

“Want one?”

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

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

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

“So high maintenance.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N really doubts it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You didn’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

“You’re still working?”

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

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

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

Y/N raises an eyebrow. “Why?”

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N clears her throat. “Right.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And remember how nervous you were?”

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

…

“Good morning.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut up.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Exactly.”

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

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

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

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

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

Except this doesn’t feel like any other way.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They continue to watch in silence, gripping each other a bit tighter as the Titanic begins to sink. As they watch a mother reading to her two young children in bed, Y/N begins to lose her composure, like always. Tears well in her eyes, and she lets out a quiet hitched breath, a single sniffle.

“It’s alright, love.” Harry’s hands move to her stomach, holding her tighter to comfort her. “Don’t cry.”

Y/N can hear the tears in his voice, just as they’re in her own. “Can’t help it. This part and the band and the old couple in bed—they always get me.”

“I know.” Harry rubs his thumb along your side.

Y/N reaches behind her without turning around, threading her fingers through Harry’s messy curls. She plays with them absentmindedly as she watches, and tries to ignore how right it feels to be close to him like this. She wonders if he notices it, too.

Harry presses a chaste kiss to her shoulder.

…

The day they hit the one month mark of quarantine, Harry sits across from Y/N at breakfast with a determined look on his face.

“I have a proposition for you.”

Y/N glances up at him, her attention barely shifting from her book. “A proposition?”

“Yeah.”

“What kind of proposition?” Y/N tilts her head to the side. What she first thought was just determination on Harry’s face, she realizes, is actually determination and mischief, and she knows it won’t end well.

“I haven’t had a tattoo in a while.” Harry steals a strawberry from Y/N’s plate. “And I have a machine here, so I was thinking you could give me one.”

Y/N stares at Harry incredulously as he pops the strawberry in his mouth. “Are you out of your mind?”

“Probably.”

“I’m a terrible artist, Harry. You know that.” Y/N shakes her head. “And even if I wasn’t, I have no idea how to tattoo someone!”

“You can watch a YouTube tutorial, or read a WikiHow.” Harry sighs loudly. “I’m so bored in isolation!”

“What do you even want tattooed?” Y/N eyes the intricate tattoos on his arms suspiciously. “I doubt I could do something like your ship.”

“Something simple.” He shrugs. “Probably lettering.”

“Probably?” Y/N says suspiciously.

“That’s why I want you to do it. I want it in your handwriting.”

Harry’s tone is easy, but it makes her breathing shallow.

“You do?”

“Yeah. I was thinking of something to remind me of this time, because of how weird it is.”

Despite her increased heartbeat, Y/N laughs. “What, do you want me to tattoo COVID-19 on you?”

“No. Be a little more creative than that.” Harry scoffs.

“Why do I have to be creative?”

“Because I want you to decide what I get.”

Y/N’s eyes widen. “You’re not serious.”

“I am! Why is that so hard to believe?” Harry asks. “I trust you. And you’re good with words.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

…

“Make sure my drink has two shots in it.” Y/N calls to Harry as she looks over the tattoo supplies on the living room table.

Harry laughs. “I’m not sure I want my tattoo artist to be drunk.”

“The only way I’ll even be your tattoo artist is if I’m drunk.” She counters. “I still think this is an awful idea.”

Harry hands Y/N a tall glass with a light pink liquid in it. “Drink this, and you’ll change your mind.”

Y/N takes the glass and takes a large gulp, not focusing on the taste of the mixers, but the liquid courage behind them.

Harry grins, lifting his own glass. “Cheers.”

“Shut up and sit down.” Y/N mutters. She ties her hair back before grabbing the disinfectant wipes. “Where do you want this?”

“My upper inner arm. I already shaved it for you.” Harry smirks as he points to the area, which is easily exposed in his loose tank top.

“And you’re sure I can write it with pen?” Y/N asks nervously as she disinfects the area.

“Mhmm.” Harry leans back comfortably in his chair. “What did you decide on?”

“It’s a secret.” Y/N uncaps the pen, getting closer to him.

“So I can’t know until after it’s on me permanently?”

“Is that a problem?” Y/N asks innocently. “I thought you trusted me?”

Harry chuckles. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

“Also that I’m good with words.” Y/N makes sure Harry’s head is turned away before she carefully writes the phrase she chose. Then she snaps on gloves and starts the machine like she watched in videos early that day.

“You’re fine, love.” Harry assures her, seeing the nervous look on her face. “It’s a small tattoo. It’ll only take a few minutes.”

“Quiet.” Y/N mutters. “I need to focus.”

True to Harry’s word, the small tattoo only takes a few minutes to finish. When it’s done, Y/N gives it one final wipe before setting the machine down and taking off her gloves.

“Alright.” She picks up her glass and drains it completely. “You can look.”

Harry peers at his arm, curiosity clear on his face. There, in Y/N’s loopy handwriting is the phrase “touch me.”

“It looks so fucking good, Y/N.” Harry grins at her. “You did amazing!”

“I didn’t fuck it up?” She asks, chewing on her lip anxiously. “Is it alright?”

“You did a lovely job.” Harry smiles. “Wrap it for me?”

Y/N does as he asks, carefully wrapping the fresh tattoo in plastic wrap and taping it to his arm. “I think I’ll accept my tip in the form of another drink.”

Harry snickers. “Coming right up.”

Two drinks later, they’re both back in the honest and loose headspace that they’ve grown familiar with. It’s not enough that they’re unaware of their actions, but both Y/N and Harry know that their lips are looser because of the liquor in their systems.

They’ve migrated to the bedroom to get comfier, but took a few items from the bar with them. It’s with these items that Harry tops up Y/N’s glass again as he speaks.

“So tell me…” He sets the cocktail shaker on his bedside table. “Why ‘touch me’?”

“You said you wanted something to remind you of isolation.” Y/N takes a long sip of her drink. “And that’s what we both miss the most, right? Being touched?”

Harry nods slowly, his rings clinking against his glass. “Yeah. I’m probably going to go straight to the bars after this is all done. Find someone there.”

He laughs lightly, showing that what he says it half a joke, but Y/N sighs wistfully and shakes her head in disagreement. “I won’t.”

“You won’t?” Harry is surprised, his laughter fading. “Why not?”

Her shrug almost causes her to spill her drink on the bed. “I don’t know.” Y/N sighs again. “I don’t really—I’m not a hookup fan. Not right now, at least. It’s not what I…want.”

“What do you want, then?” Harry finishes his drink, but sets the glass down instead of refilling it. “If not sex?”

“I want sex.” Y/N says defensively. “But I want—I don’t want it to be someone random. I want sex, but I want to be…intimate. Like, I want to know that person cares about me, and I care about them.”

Harry licks the last of his drink from his lips. “Like that breathless feeling?”

“No. It would be nice, but no. That takes time.” Y/N brushes her hair behind her ear. “Just…someone who cares. I don’t want a quick fuck, I just—”

“You want to be touched. Intimately touched.” Harry takes the empty glass from Y/N’s hand and sets it down on the table next to the bed.

Y/N nods gently, her limbs feeling loose. “Yeah. Intimately touched.”

“You know, I could…” Harry trails off, pursing his lips. “We could…do that.”

The alcohol makes Y/N slow to recognize the meaning of his words. “What?”

“I’ve noticed you…the way you look at me, it’s…different than it was.” Harry says carefully, his eyes gauging her reaction. “For the last few weeks. And I—I know that I’m…attracted to you, too.”

“We…” Y/N struggles to think of what to say as she finally registers what’s happening. “We’re friends.”

“I know, but that doesn’t mean I can’t see you as attractive.” Harry looks down at his hands. “Don’t you…? I mean…”

“I—yeah. I think you’re—” Y/N laughs a bit nervously. “You’re attractive, H, you know that. We’ve just never…discussed it.”

“I’m not saying we have to fuck, or—we don’t have to do anything.” Harry straightens his shoulders and looks you in the eye. “Just—when we touch, it’s mild. If you want to be touched intimately, we could…”

“Like, a hand job?” Y/N says slowly, her words blunt with confusion.

Harry goes a bit red, but he shakes his head quickly. “No, Christ, that’s not what I meant, I—just—can I show you?”

“Um,” Y/N swallows hard. “Sure.”

“Okay.” Harry nods slightly, taking carefully measured breaths. “If this feels weird, or anything seems wrong, just tell me to stop, alright?”

Y/N replies faintly. “Alright.”

Nodding again, Harry moves closer on the bed, sitting on his knees so he can get closer to Y/N, who sits cross-legged. His hands rest lightly on her bare thighs, and his rings are a cool contrast to his warm skin.

Harry begins to rub his hands up and down her thighs slowly. His movements are measured, and he watches Y/N’s reaction carefully for a sign of her disliking his actions. However, what he finds is a nervous but interested girl staring back at him.

“Like this. Like, what you like.” Harry says lowly. His hands move more to her inner thighs, but they don’t creep higher. “And…”

“And…?” Y/N asks, her heart rate increasing even more.

Harry moves one hand to the hem of Y/N’s tank top, pushing it up a bit so his hand can rest on her waist. He rubs over her warm skin, marvelling in how smooth and soft it is to his touch. His fingers graze the lace of her bra, but he goes no higher.

“How—how’s that?” Harry asks quietly.

“It’s, um, it’s good.” Y/N replies as she struggles to keep her voice normal. “Yeah. Good. But, um, can you…” Harry’s movements pause at her words, and Y/N feels her cheeks get even warmer. “Maybe touch my, uh, my neck. If you’d like.”

Harry nods, and the hand on her thigh moves to her neck. He traces his fingers across her shoulder and over her collarbone, delighting in feeling the curves of her body. Y/N’s breath hitches when his fingers travel up her neck, and Harry swears he can feel her pulse increase under his fingers.

Y/N’s not sure if it’s the fact that she’s touch starved from self isolating that makes Harry’s touches feel so good, or if it’s the fact that it’s Harry touching her, but she doesn’t dwell on it. Instead, she closes her eyes and tilts her head back, allowing him better access.

She feels Harry’s breath before she feels his lips, but she’s still surprised when she feels him begin to sponge light kisses across her neck.

“H…”

“Is this alright?” He asks the question right below her ear, and yet she can barely hear him because he’s so quiet.

“Yes.” Y/N breathes. “Yeah.”

“Good.” Harry returns to pressing light kisses to her skin, his hands still rubbing over her sides and hips.

For the first time since seeing Harry naked in her bathroom, Y/N can’t deny or explain away her attraction to him. She can’t convince herself that she doesn’t want him to touch her, because she does, and she can’t tell herself that she doesn’t need him, because she does. Every fibre of her being is telling her that she needs Harry, and she needs him now. Her heart is pounding, her skin is on fire, and her core feels like she’d going to explode if he doesn’t do something. And yet, Y/N can’t tell him to touch her more. She’s frozen, mind blank, and she can only register what Harry is doing at the moment as what she wants.

Harry continues to kiss her neck, never lingering too long in one spot, never sucking too hard. Every kiss is gentle and chaste, except the few rare ones that include the tip of his tongue running over her skin.

After what feels like an eternity, Harry pulls away from her neck, face flushed. Despite his hands still on her body, Y/N makes an involuntary sound in the back of her throat.

“Is that better?” He asks lowly, rubbing his thumb against your hip.

“I—kind of.” Y/N says softly. If anything, she thinks, it’s worse. She needs to satisfy the burn inside her, but she doesn’t know how.

“Good.” Harry replies, but he doesn’t take his hands off her.

Y/N’s own hands have been sitting at her sides as his moved over her body, but she raises one now, as hesitant as Harry was. She extends it towards his arm, but pauses with her fingers right over his skin.

“Is it okay if I…?”

The corner of Harry’s lips lifts up, just barely. “Yeah, love. Go ahead.”

Harry’s skin is warm beneath her touch. Y/N traces the outline of his mermaid tattoo carefully before moving onto others. She loves how his arm curves under her touch, how he stays still and lets her explore. She appreciates it, thinking that if Harry made any sudden movements, she’d force herself to pull away.

Soon, her fingers move from tracing his tattoos to tracing the lines of his muscles. She moves down his forearm to his hand, running her fingers over the veins that show through his tan skin, over his knuckles, down the tips of his calloused fingers and back.

Harry sucks in a breath, and Y/N’s trance flickers for a moment as her eyes move to his face to see what’s wrong.

“Sorry, just—surprised me.” Harry says, voice low yet sheepish. He nods down to his thigh, where Y/N realizes her own hand is resting.

“Oh—” She moves to pull her hand away, but Harry places his own on top.

“It’s fine.” He says quickly. “Keep going.”

Y/N bites her lip as she turns her attention back to his arm. Her fingers move slowly and carefully back up his forearm to his upper arm. She traces over his tattoos while she rubs her thumb gently against the muscle, and stops her fingers at the edge of his t-shirt sleeve. With a quick glance at Harry, she pushes the sleeve up, tucking it up on his shoulder so she can run her fingers over his ship tattoo, which is one of her favourites.

“Feels nice.” Harry murmurs, his eyes following her movements.

Y/N glances back at his face, taking in his appearance. His lips are red from the time he spent kissing her neck, and his cheeks are still flushed. His eyes are darker than usual, and she’s not certain if it’s the candlelight or something else causing it. There’s a light sheen of sweat on his forehead, with a few loose curls hanging down. Out of reflex, Y/N reaches up and pushes his hair back out of his eyes.

Before she can return her hand to his arm, Harry captures it in his own. Y/N watches as he brings it to his lips, inhaling as her wrist passes underneath his nose. Although she’s not sure why, there’s something about seeing how much smaller her hand is in Harry’s that delights her.

Harry presses a soft kiss to her wrist, following it up with another on her palm. Y/N’s eyelids flutter at the tender sensation.

“It’s my turn to touch you.” She says softly, her voice strained.

Harry hums in reply. “I know.” He kisses your wrist once more before looking at you. “I’ll help.”

Lifting his hand from his thigh (your hand, which was underneath, stays where it is), he pulls up his shirt just enough that he can sneak your hand underneath. He rests it on his lower chest, and even though his shirt is still partially covering him, Y/N knows she’s touching his butterfly tattoo.

“I like to be touched here.” Harry says in the same low voice.

“Okay.” Y/N bites her lip, her head swimming with alcohol and the smell of the candles and Harry’s cologne and Harry. “It…would be easier without your shirt.”

Without breaking eye contact, save for the moment fabric covers him, Harry pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it to the side. “Better?”

Y/N’s eyes drift down to his tanned stomach. His body is familiar and a stranger to her all at once. She knows his tattoos, scars, every mark on his skin from a distance, but seeing it like this—touching it like this—makes her feel like she’s never truly seen him before.

“Better.” She manages to say, her hand brushing across his ribs.

Y/N spends a while exploring the planes of his stomach, the contours of his body. When she gets to his v-lines, and runs her fingers over the ferns tattooed there, Harry shivers a bit, his hand gripping her knee tighter.

Y/N massages his thigh gently. “Alright?”

“Yeah.” Harry clears his throat. “I’m good.”

“Okay.” Y/N nods, but moves her hand further up again, over his chest and over his collar bones. She takes a moment to trace the lines of his neck, feel the beat if his pulse underneath her fingers, and then tangles her fingers in his hair. She uses the leverage to tilt his head back a bit, and presses her lips to the base of his neck.

Harry’s cologne smells better up close, and Y/N adores the heat of his skin on her sensitive lips. She presses small kisses over the curve of his neck, pausing over his jugular. Her tongue darts out and she carefully licks along it before ending the motion with a kiss.

“Christ…” Harry exhales slowly, the tips of his fingers digging into her knee slightly.

Y/N knows they’re crossing the threshold of just touching each other for the sake of touching. She can feel herself dripping in her panties, and when her eyes flicker down, she can see the outline of Harry’s half hard cock in his shorts. Together, they’ve reached the border of friends helping each other out, and she’s certain that she wants to cross it with him. However, she’s not sure if they should.

Pulling back enough to look Harry in the eyes, Y/N clears her throat. “H, we—what are we doing?”

Harry waits a moment to answer. “I…I don’t know. I have no fucking clue.”

“This isn’t friendly anymore.” Y/N’s voice drops to a whisper. “It’s not just—it’s intimate, yeah, but it’s more…” Her eyes move to the outline of his hardening cock once more before looking back up at his face. “It’s more.”

“Yeah. It’s more.” Harry moves his hand further up her thigh again, rubbing slow circles. “But I don’t want to stop.”

Y/N sucks in a breath. “You don’t?”

“It’s been so long since…” Harry trails off, his gaze drifting down to your lips before returning to your eyes. “And it’s you. I’ve always wondered if—we—”

“I’ve wondered, too.” Y/N admits, her voice filled with nerves. Are they really discussing this? “Especially since that day, in the bathroom—”

“I wondered if you looked then.” Harry’s voice drops lower (which Y/N didn’t think was possible). “I thought about it later that day. I—fuck, I wanted you to look.”

A small noise escapes the back of Y/N’s throat. “This—we’ve been drinking, and—it’s the alcohol, H. Neither of us is thinking straight.”

“This isn’t the alcohol talking. I’ve thought about—when we’re in the pool, when we cuddle, when we flirt, I—I can’t help it.” Harry closes his eyes for a brief moment, like he’s collecting himself. “I need you. And I think…I think you need me too.”

“I do. I need you.” Y/N touches his stubbled jaw with careful fingers. “But we’re friends. This is going to change that.”

“We don’t know that.” Harry leans into her touch. “You said before that you wanted someone you’re comfortable with, something intimate, something breathless. You and I are comfortable, and intimate, and—I don’t know. All I know for sure is that I want you.”

Y/N isn’t sure if he means he wants her in a purely physical way or something more, and while she knows she should clarify that, all she can focus on is his voice and the way it’s going straight to her core.

“I want you, too.” She says simply.

Harry brings his hand to Y/N’s hip. “Can I kiss you?”

Y/N nods. She’s not sure she’s capable of giving a verbal response.

Harry takes it upon himself to lean closer, his fingertips digging into Y/N’s skin in a way she adores. He pauses, hovering just above her lips for a moment, as if to give her time to pull away. Instead, Y/N just waits in anticipation, delighting in the feeling of his breath running over her skin.

When he kisses her, Y/N tastes alcohol, mint, and what she swears is her own heart in the back of her throat.

Any previous kisses she’s shared with Harry have been half kisses, given in teenage games of truth or dare and in a friend’s parent’s basement. Those kisses were safe, guarded, and an obligation. This kiss is the exact opposite.

Although it starts chaste, it quickly grows more passionate. Y/N can’t stop herself from tugging on Harry’s hair more than she imagines Harry can stop himself from rucking up the hem of her tank top. His fingers dip under the band of her lace bralette as she nips at his lip, tugging slightly, delighted when a strangled sound echoes from the back of his throat.

Within minutes, Y/N’s allowed Harry to pull her to straddle his lap, his hands grabbing at her hips with a neediness she’s never seen him exhibit before. Of course, she feels the same way, and she lets her hand run down his chest over and over, using her nails a little more each time. Although there’s no one around to see, no party to return to, nowhere to go, Y/N wants to leave a mark. She wants anyone who sees his chest to know that he belongs to her.

Harry breaks away from her, lips red, eyes frenzied, and breathing heavy. “Can I—?” His hands tug on the hem of her top, tugging in question.

Y/N lifts her arms in response, letting him pull it off and toss it to the side. Harry moves back in to kiss her again, but she keeps her arms up, giving him a long look.

“You’re not done.” She says simply.

He understands right away, and his fingers find the band of her bralette again. This time, however, he removes it slower, almost as if the removal is ritual itself, and his hands are less frantic when they return to your skin.

Harry looks at Y/Nu with wide eyes, and she understands the meaning in them: this is so much more than just touching, and so much more than two friends using each other for mutual pleasure. With every touch, they further cross a line, and neither of them can stop.

With this realization, Harry’s movements become more cautious. His hands come to rest on her sides, his thumbs just brushing the side of her breast.

“You’re fine.” Y/N assures him in a soothing voice. “Keep going.”

“Are you fine?” He counters, his voice an equal mix of concern and need.

“H.” Y/N takes his hands in her own and places them over her breasts. “Like that. Touch me like that.”

Harry sucks in a short breath as she manipulates his hands, showing him how to rub her and touch her. After a few moments, she lets her hands move to his neck, pulling him in for another kiss.

Y/N begins to grind against him, desperate for a bit of friction. Their kisses are soon accented with their moans as they each pull the other closer in lust and need.

Still, underneath the physical desires, there’s a current running between them. Y/N knows it’s been there for the last few weeks, humming quietly in the back of her mind, but being here, now, with Harry touching her, it’s come alive like an electric fence. She can’t turn it off, and she doesn’t want to. She doesn’t want to in the slightest.

Harry begins to kiss down her neck like before, but this time his kisses are anything but chaste. When he reaches her breast, he kisses around them before taking one of her nipples into his mouth.

“Oh fuck—” Y/N arches her back, fingers tangling in his hair to pull him closer. “Harry…”

He hums against her, and his spare hand rubs her back like he does when they get ready to sleep. Usually, the motion is calming, but right now, Y/N feels anything but calm.

Harry continues until he’s satisfied with his work, and then he kisses his way to her other breast, wrapping his lips against her other nipple. He spends just as much time on that one, letting his teeth graze it ever so slightly before soothing the action with his tongue.

When he pulls back, there’s a little line of spit connecting Harry’s mouth to her nipple, and Y/N whimpers at the sight.

“H…” She runs her finger through the line before gripping his chin with her thumb and forefinger. The need inside her builds, as does her fondness for the man in front of her. “God…”

Harry tweaks her hard nipple with his finger, gentle enough so as not to hurt her, but enough to make a gasp fall from her mouth. He offers no response in the form of words, but the hungry look in his eyes has only increased.

“Let me…” Y/N climbs off of his lap, gently pushing him to lay back on the bed. “Yeah?”

Harry runs a hand through his messy curls, nodding quickly. “You want that?”

“Yeah.” Y/N nods too, pressing a wet kiss to his swollen lips. “So bad. Yeah.”

Her hands move to the waistband of his shorts, and Harry lifts his hips off the bed. Y/N tugs down his boxers in the same movement, and tosses both articles of clothing to the side before looking back at him.

Harry’s cock is just as beautiful as she remembers it being the morning she accidentally walked in on him. Even more so, she thinks, because now he’s hard, and the head is the most appetizing shade of pink, with drops of precum pearling at the top. When Y/N wraps her hand around his girth, she adores the heat that she feels.

“So pretty…” She says the words almost to herself, and strokes him lightly to get used to the feeling of him in her hand. “I just want to…”

Y/N leans down and flicks her tongue over his tip, collecting the precum gathered there. In return, a strangled moan leaves Harry’s throat as his arm moves to cover his eyes for a moment.

Y/N presses a kiss to the head of his cock before she continues licking, reveling in the sounds Harry makes. She had no doubt, with a voice as angelic as his, that his moans and whines and whimpers would be just as beautiful.

When she wraps her lips around the head and sucks, she feels Harry’s hand move to her hair. She looks up at him without lifting off of his cock, staring him in the eye as she takes more and more of him into her mouth.

“Fuck—” Another moan leaves Harry’s lips, more strained than the last. “That’s it…” He tugs on her hair, but doesn’t push her down. Even when lost in pleasure, he’s careful with her.

Y/N loves him for it.

Pacing herself, she takes more and more of him into her mouth until her nose is pressed to the base of his stomach, brushing against his (neatly trimmed) pubic hair. She stays down for just a moment before pulling up completely to breathe, but keeps her hand on him, stroking him slowly.

“You look so good.” Harry mutters, running his hands over her hair in a soothing motion. “I imagined it, but didn’t think…so much better…”

Y/N moves to push her head back down, but Harry stops her, bringing her up for a kiss instead.

“I want to taste you, now.” He tells her, laying her down on the pillows. “Is that alright?”

Y/N nods desperately, feeling even more heat rush to her core and pool there. “Mhmm.”

Harry kisses his way down her body again, slipping his fingers into the waistband of her shorts. He leaves her panties on as he pulls the shorts down, and lets out a low groan at the sight of her pink Calvin Klein panties, and more specifically, the dark pink spot that’s apparent on them.

“You’re soaked…” He presses a kiss to her sensitive inner thigh before brushing a finger over the wet spot.

Y/N jumps a bit, making a sound in the back of her throat. “Harry!”

“Sorry.” He kisses her thigh again. “I’m sorry. Just relax, yeah? It’s just me. I got you.”

Harry continues to kiss along her inner thighs, moving closer and closer to the thin cloth covering her center. When he presses his first kiss to the fabric, Y/N grasps the sheets in her hands.

“God…” She whispers, fists clenched.

Harry reaches up and takes one of her hands, placing it in his hair wordlessly before kissing over her again, his tongue peaking out just a bit.

The torture continues for what feels like forever, with Harry teasing her over the soaked fabric of her panties. Finally, Y/N sighs in relief as she feels his hands grip the fabric, and she lifts her hips eagerly as he tugs the article of clothing down.

The first thing she feels is his hot breath hitting her core, which is enough to make her legs reflexively close with pleasure. Harry’s hand grips her leg, pushing them back open as he takes in the sight of her dripping cunt before him.

“Fuck…” He inhales deeply, committing her scent to memory. “Your pussy is so gorgeous.”

Y/N whimpers at his words and tugs on his curls. “Please, H…I need you.”

“Need me?” Harry asks in a husky voice, his finger touching her outer lips just barely.

“Yes!” Y/N whines, not caring how she sounds. “Never needed anything more…”

Harry runs his finger over her slit, collecting the wetness dripping from her. YN moans loudly at the contact, not fully relieved but grateful for the light touch.

“So fucking wet.” Harry’s voice sounds not completely his own. “Fuck, Y/N, how are you so wet?”

Y/N feels heat rush to her cheeks, and she mumbles her reply in what’s almost an embarrassed voice. “You know exactly how.”

“Don’t even know what to do first.” Harry ignores her reply, lost in his own world as he continues stroking her slit. “Just want…”

He presses into her without warning, and Y/N arches her back off the bed as Harry’s finger slips into her cunt. His cold rings touch the top of her entrance as Harry pauses inside her, his eyes heavy with lust.

“And so tight.” He moans, biting his lip hard enough to leave a mark. “Oh my God…”

He curves his finger inside her, wanting to feel every inch of her that he can. Y/N continues to whimper above him.

“More.” She begs him, pushing back against his finger. “I can take more, Harry, please.”

Harry easily slips enough finger in, repeating his motion as she pushes back on him. However, the pressure building inside Y/N disappears abruptly as his fingers do, and she’s just about to get angry at him when she feels his tongue replace his fingers.

“Fuck!” She exclaims loudly, her eyes closing as she throws her head back. “Harry—!”

Harry moves his tongue in and out of her, loving the taste of her juices in his mouth. He moves further up to her clit, licking and sucking over the sensitive bundle of nerves as Y/N writhes above him.

“Taste so good.” He growls from between her thighs. “Fuck, Y/N…you’re going to cum for me, yeah?” He asks as he reaches up and grips her hands in his, interlocking their fingers. “Tell me you’re going to cum for me.”

Another strangled moan leaves Y/N’s mouth as he speaks. “I-I’m so close, Harry. Keep going, please.”

“Tell me.” He demands, licking over her clit again. “Tell me you’re going to cum for me.”

Y/N grinds against his tongue as she grips his hands tighter. “I’m going—fuck—I’m going to cum for you, H. I’m going—”

Harry sucks hard on her clit, and Y/N throws her head back as an orgasm hits her harder than ever before. Her thighs clench shut, trapping Harry’s head between them, but he just continues to lap at the juices flowing from her cunt while making the most obscene sounds Y/N has ever heard.

Harry doesn’t pull back until Y/N unclenches her thighs, and before he does, he presses one last kiss to her clit, making her flinch.

Y/N is so exhausted she can barely open her eyes. Once she does, however, and sees Harry, she feels all the exhaustion fade.

Harry’s lips are, somehow, even more red than before, and his whole chin is slick with her wetness. He keeps licking his lips, like he can’t get enough of the taste, and Y/N feels like her whole body is on fire.

“Harry…” She whispers, squeezing his hand again. She doesn’t know what else to say.

Harry lifts himself over her body, which is still shaking from her orgasm, and kisses her gently. She can taste herself on his mouth, and she adores it.

“You taste so fucking good.” He murmurs, pressing his sweaty forehead against hers. “Like candy.”

Y/N swallows hard. “I haven’t—no one’s done that in a long time.”

“I’ll be glad to do it again.” Harry replies, brushing her hair back. “But right now…all I want to do is make love to you.” He looks at her with sincere eyes. “Will you let me?”

The tenderness of him asking almost brings tears to her eyes, and Y/N nods, her hands coming up to cup his rosy cheeks. “Yeah, H. I’m…” She bites her lip as she realizes the truth of her words. “I’m yours. Always.”

Harry inhales sharply before kissing her softly, his hands stroking her hair in a comforting fashion again. “How do you want to…?”

“I want you on top.” Y/N replies, touching his swallow tattoos. “I-I want to feel you. Feel your weight. Feel you close.”

With a nod, Harry positions himself over her, spreading her legs wide enough that his body can fit between. He holds himself up with one hand and uses the other to guide his cock to Y/N’s folds, just brushing the head over them. He’s teasing himself just as much as her.

“Harry…” Y/N leans her head back at the sensation. “Please, H…”

“I don’t—wait—” Harry pauses his movements, and Y/N can see on his face the strength and discipline it takes for him to do so. “I—a condom��”

“I’m clean, and I have an IUD.” Y/N assures him, running her hand along his shoulders. “Are you?”

Harry nods. “Yeah, I am, but—are you sure?”

As Y/N looks into his eyes, the love and concern and want written all over them, she knows she’s never been more sure of anything in her life. “I want to feel you, without anything in between. I—” She takes a deep breath and presses a kiss to his jaw. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

Harry presses a kiss to her forehead, and the tender action makes Y/N close her eyes as she revels in the feeling. A moment later, Harry moves down again and puts his forehead against hers as he pushes into her.

The moment he enters her, Y/N feels a fullness she’s never experienced before. Not only is Harry stretching her cunt in a way that feels euphoric, but she feels complete. He’s as close to her as he’s ever been, his breath is mingling with hers, his body weight is held over her carefully, and Y/N thinks she could die in the pleasure of this moment happily.

“Y/N…baby…” The pet name seems to fall easily from Harry’s lips as he bottoms out, holding himself still to adjust to the feeling. “Oh my God…”

Y/N digs her fingernails into Harry’s shoulders, pressing kisses to his lips between gasps for breath. “Move, H, please.”

Harry begins to thrust his hips, setting a slow but deep pace before gradually speeding up. While part of Y/N wishes he would thrust as fast as he can, a deeper part of her is grateful that Harry is taking his time with her. This feeling, now that she has it, is better than anything she’d ever felt before, and Y/N doesn’t want it to end anytime soon.

Harry kisses Y/N again as he moves inside her. Although they’re as close as they’ve ever been, each of them keeps pulling the other closer. As Harry thrusts deeper, Y/N pulls more of his weight down on her. As Y/N scratches her nails down his back, Harry kisses her jaw. Neither of them can process exactly what they’re doing, but neither of them can stop. Each touch is tender, each kiss is passionate, and each moment brings them closer together in so many more ways than just physical.

They don’t speak except for the occasional whisper from Y/N for Harry to move faster, or the occasional moan of Y/N’s name falling from Harry’s lips. The only constant sounds in the room are of the slickness between Y/N’s thighs as Harry moves between them, the sound of his skin meeting hers, both of them panting and moaning, and a few whispers of “please” that are barely audible. Despite the lack of speech, however, the two are in constant communication. Kissing, biting, scratching, and squeezing have become the vocabulary of their new language. When Harry looks into Y/N’s wet eyes, he knows that she feels something running through the very depths of her being. When Y/N feels Harry tuck his head between her neck and her shoulder as he whimpers, she knows that he trusts her to comfort him and hold him there.

Soon, Y/N feels the waves of pleasure begin to build, and she knows that when they finally break, they’ll pull her under. “H, I—fuck—I—” She can’t manage to form the sentence she needs to.

Harry, however, can tell exactly what she’s going to say. “Please.” He pants, adoring how she buries her head into his shoulder. “Please, love, cum for me…” He kisses over the shell of her ear as he thrusts deeper. “Need you.”

Y/N whimpers, biting down on Harry’s shoulder as her orgasm rolls over her. Harry feels her walls tighten around his cock, but he doesn’t slow down, and he works her through her climax until she whines in his ear.

“So good, H…” Y/N can barely find the strength to whisper the phrase.

Hearing her sound so fucked out, feeling her cunt squeezing him, and seeing the euphoria on her face is enough to bring Harry to the edge. He slows his thrusts, about to pull out, but Y/N presses on his back to keep him close.

Harry groans as a shiver rolls through his body. “I’m about to cum, Y/N—”

“Stay inside me.” She pleads, pressing the pads of her fingers between his shoulder blades. “I-I’m yours, Harry, I told you. Yours.”

Y/N looks up at him with such trusting and vulnerable eyes that Harry can’t make himself argue with her. He nods instead, his thrusts increasing in speed again until he feels himself reach the edge of pleasure.

As he freefalls into Y/N, his hips stutter, and he presses deep inside her while her name falls from his lips over and over again. He can’t think of anything else to say. He can’t think of anything else worth saying.

When Harry finally manages to pull himself together enough to pull out, Y/N instantly feels the emptiness inside her. She wishes he would stay, but knows that it’s not practical, and instead just relishes in the feeling of his cum dripping from her entrance. It’s like he’s claimed her as his, left a physical mark of himself, and Y/N doesn’t have the strength to stop herself from loving it.

They lay in silence for a few moments, trying to catch their breath and regain a sense of where they are. Both Harry and Y/N are sweaty, exhausted, and covered in each other in more ways than one. The wrap on Harry’s tattoo has slipped from his arm. Somewhere in their pleasure, Y/N has lost an earring. And yet, the only thing each of them cares about is looking at the other.

Out of instinct, Harry pulls Y/N’s shivering body into his, wrapping his arms around her tightly. He can’t imagine she’s cold, and Y/N can’t bring herself to tell him she’s shivering because of the feeling of being so close to him, but neither of them denies the other of the affectionate gesture.

Y/N loses track of how long they lay there until Harry breaks the silence.

“I—” His voice cracks, and he clears it quickly before trying again. “I’ll get you a cloth to—to clean you up.”

Y/N nods, and Harry gently untangles himself from her before going to the bathroom. Y/N can hear the running of water, and turns her head to see what he’s doing, but when she spots his naked silhouette, she closes her eyes. Despite what they just did, there’s a shyness in her still when she sees him completely stripped.

Her eyes stay closed, and she only detects his return from feeling his weight return to the bed. He places a gentle hand on her trembling knee, pulling her open ever so slightly.

“’M just cleaning you up.” Harry says in a quiet tone. “Is that okay?”

Y/N nods again. She’s not certain she has enough strength to say anything.

Harry wipes between her legs with a gentle touch, watching how she flinches at the slightest of pressure. “I’m sorry.” He says sincerely, kissing her knee tenderly before continuing. “You’re sensitive, I know. Almost done.”

Once he finishes wiping away the cum dripping out of her (his cum dripping out of her), Harry tosses the cloth onto his pile of clothes on the ground, deciding it can be dealt with later. His most pressing concern at the moment is Y/N.

He lays back down on his side so he can face her, and pushes a lock of hair away from her closed eyes.

“Y/N.” Harry murmurs, hand resting on her waist carefully. “Talk to me. Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Her voice is rough when she answers, and Harry can hear the echo of her moans in her words. “I-I’m fine, H. Just…tired.”

“Do you…” Harry bites his lip. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Y/N gives a slight shake of her head. “Maybe—maybe tomorrow, yeah?” She does her best to open one eye, but quickly shuts it again when she sees how Harry is looking at her. “Can’t right now.”

“Okay.” Harry lays his arm over her side as he moves closer. “Tomorrow.”

Y/N presses her head into his shoulder and commits the scent of his skin to memory.

…

The first thing Y/N registers when she wakes up is the feeling of someone touching her hair.

She doesn’t need to open her eyes to know it’s Harry. Of course it’s Harry. It’s always been Harry. In every way.

Y/N sighs and readjusts her position in bed, moving a bit closer to Harry. She shivers once from the cold, still naked from last night’s activities, and that’s the only hint Harry needs before he pulls the sheet up around her more.

“Are you awake?” He asks softly, careful in case she’s still lost deep in sleep.

Y/N moves her head in a passable nodding motion, and her voice is thick with sleep when she answers. “Mhmm. Barely.”

A low chuckle escapes from Harry’s mouth, and the next thing Y/N feels are his warm lips against her cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“A little hungover. A little sore.” Y/N finally opens her eyes as she speaks, and almost wishes she hadn’t.

Harry’s hair is a mess from both sex and sleep, messy and wild and haphazardly pushed out of his eyes. His cheeks are flushed, and his neck and chest are covered in marks from both Y/N’s lips and fingers. She knows that if he turned over, his back would be the same, and it embarrasses her and delights her at the same time. He looks completely fucked and content, and more relaxed than she’s seen him in ages.

Y/N wonders if she looks the same. If she looks as pretty.

“Sorry.” Harry says, his tone a bit sheepish.

“It’s not your fault.” Y/N replies, shrugging a bit.

“Well…it is, actually. I made your drinks. And I…” He trails off, brushing his fingers down her bare hip to her thigh.

“Yeah.” Y/N feels her face get warm. “I guess it is your fault.”

Harry laughs lightly, but it fades away as he looks into her eyes. “We, uh…we should probably talk about what happened.”

Y/N purses her lips. “Yeah. We should.”

“So…first question, I guess.” Harry props his head up on his arm, but keeps running his fingers over Y/N’s hip gently. “Do you regret it?”

Y/N sits up a bit more in bed, clutching the sheet to her bare chest. “No. I don’t. Do you?”

“No.” Harry replies instantly. “I don’t regret it.”

“Okay.” Y/N is so aware of Harry’s eyes on her as she thinks of her question. “Did…did you enjoy it?”

A snort falls from Harry’s mouth, and he shakes his head incredulously. “Christ, Y/N, of course I enjoyed it. It felt—you felt like heaven.”

Y/N flushes at the comment. “I’ve never…I’ve always made my partners wear condoms. So that was a first for me.”

Harry’s fingers pause over her hip, but only for a moment. It looks as though he’s deciding whether or not he should comment on that, but changes his mind at the last moment. “Did you enjoy it?” He asks instead, echoing your question.

“I did.”

“You said you were mine.”

Y/N swallows hard. This conversation is less incriminating than making love to him last night, but it seems infinitely more powerful. Probably because they’re both sober, she thinks.

“That—” She clears her throat. “That’s not a question.”

Harry sighs, but there’s an endeared smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You said you were mine. Did you mean that?”

Y/N can’t look him in the eyes, so she looks down instead. Harry’s hand lies between them, and she intertwines their fingers, playing with his rings as she carefully formulates her answer. “I’ve—I’ve always been yours, H. Ever since we were kids, I’ve belonged to you.” She runs a finger over his H ring. “Even when you were gone.”

Harry frowns a bit at the tone of her voice. “I’ve been yours too, Y/N. I belong to you just as much as you belong to me.”

“You’ve always been further out of reach.” Y/N pulls her hand from his, until their fingertips are just barely touching. “Always just…a little out of reach.”

Harry intertwines their fingers again. “I’m not out of reach. Not right now. And I’ve never—if you ever called me and said you needed me, I would’ve been on the first flight back home to you. I would’ve dropped everything for you, Y/N. I still would, and I always will.”

Tears prick Y/N’s eyes, and although she hurries to close them, one slips out. Harry catches it on his finger before it can run off her cheek, and when she looks at him again, there’s a concerned look on his face.

“C’mere.” Harry mumbles, pulling Y/N into a tight hug. He rubs her back like he always does, and the motion is so comforting that she almost forgets the vulnerable position they’re both in. “You’re my girl. You’re always going to be my girl.” He murmurs in her ear, voice low and soothing. “Always. Don’t you know that?”

Y/N nods, not trusting her voice at the moment.

“If this is too much for you…” Harry traces his fingers between her shoulder blades. Y/N thinks he’s tracing words, like they used to as children, but she can’t tell what words he may be tracing. “I understand. We can just—we can pretend it didn’t happen.”

“I—” Y/N shakes her head, looking up at Harry. “I don’t want to do that.”

“Then what do you want, Y/N?” Harry asks, his tone as pleading as it was last night. “All I’ve ever tried to do is give you what you want, and usually I’m pretty good at telling what that is, but right now, I’m lost. I don’t want things to go back to how they were, but I don’t—I can’t lose you, so just—if you just tell me what you want, I’ll do it. I’ll make it work. I promise that I won’t be mad, or hurt, or anything.”

Y/N sits up as best she can, her fingers combing through Harry’s messy curls on reflex, as she always does it when he gets upset. “I can’t pretend that I don’t want you, H. I do. I need you. I told you that last night.”

“But you’re crying.” Harry cups her wet cheek gently, rubbing his thumb along her cheekbone. “I hate that.”

Y/N leans into his touch. “It just feels…strange.” She says after a moment. “All of this. I spent so long trying to stop myself from thinking of you like this, and now that I am, I feel like—like it’s wrong.”

Harry tugs on his bottom lip with his teeth. “Does it feel wrong?”

His low voice makes her shiver. “No. It feels right. Really right.”

“I feel like…” Harry’s eyes flicker between Y/N’s own eyes and their intertwined hands. “I feel like we’re both dancing around saying it.”

Y/N sucks in a breath. “Saying what?”

“Saying…” Harry leans in and presses a soft kiss to her lips. “Saying that we’re in love with each other.”

Y/N feels breathless at the words coming from his mouth. “You’re in love with me?”

“Are you not in love with me?” He replies, moving so he’s leaning over her more. “We’ve said I love you so many times before.”

“That’s a different kind of love.” Y/N mumbles, touching the chain dangling from Harry’s neck.

“But we were both meaning something different when we were saying it. At least, I was.” Harry inhales deeply, like he’s centering himself. “I’ve known…for a while, but I’ve felt it for longer than I’ve known it. And I thought that you might…”

“I think I do.” Y/N whispers. “But saying it feels so—so permanent. Like we can’t go back to being friends if it blows up in our faces.”

Harry traces a finger down Y/N’s cheek, her neck, between her breasts, to her side, touching just below her ribs. “Maybe we can’t. But I don’t think we’ll want to, Y/N. I think we’re perfect for each other.”

Y/N’s heart pounds in her chest. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Harry nods. “This last month, it’s been like we’ve been…playing house, or something. I’ve loved it. I keep hearing from friends saying that they’re so sick of the person they’re living with, so tired of them, but I’ve never felt that way about you, and I don’t think I ever will. I’ll never get sick of you.”

Y/N laughs a bit. “That’s romantic.”

“Shut up.” Harry can’t help but smile slightly. “It is romantic.”

“Yeah. It is.” Y/N says softly, her hand rubbing over Harry’s tattooed arm. “You’re really in love with me?”

Harry nods. “I am.”

“Huh.” Y/N bites her lip. “So I guess we’ve been lying to our moms, haven’t we?”

Harry laughs loudly, collapsing on the bed next to Y/N. “Jesus, can you not mention our mums when we’re naked in bed?”

“I’m just saying! We’ve been saying for years that you’re not in love with me, and it’s all been a lie.”

“What about when they ask if you’re in love with me?” Harry’s tone is joking, but there’s a hint of nervousness in the back of his voice. “Has that been a lie, too?”

Y/N’s heart pounds as she nods. “Yeah. We’ll have to get them something really good for Mother’s Day this year to help make up for it.”

A grin spreads over Harry’s face, almost triumphant, as he leans down to kiss her. “Agreed.” He moves to cage himself over Y/N. “But I want to hear you say it.”

“Say what?”

“I want to hear you say that you’re in love with me.” Harry’s grin turns into a smirk.

Y/N flushes as she shakes her head. “You say it first.”

“I’ve already admitted it!”

“So have I!”

“Not as well as I have!”

“Oh, so it’s a competition now?” Y/N scoffs. “What a wonderful start to our relationship.”

“I’m just saying, Y/N, admitting it is the first step to—”

“Are you seriously going to say that to get me to say that I love you?”

“Just—”

“You’re so irritating—”

“I’m irritating? You—”

“You’re the worst!”

“And yet you’re in my bed with no clothes on!”

“Okay. Nope. Relationship over.” Y/N pushes Harry off of her and wraps the sheet around herself as she gets out of bed. “You blew it, Styles.”

“Y/N.” Laughter falls from Harry’s lips as he leans over the edge of the bed. “Love. Come back to bed.”

“I think a minute and thirty-seven seconds may be the record for the world’s shortest relationship.” Y/N searches her bag for some clean clothes.

“Come here!”

“Another world record for Harry Styles.” Y/N calls to him without turning around. “You must be so proud—”

Her words are cut off in a shriek as Harry picks her up, throwing her over his shoulder as he brings her back to his bed.

“Harry!” She yells, hitting his arm. “Put me down!”

Harry tosses her on the bed, gentle enough so as not to hurt her, and cages himself over her sheet-covered body. He’s still completely bare. “Take it back.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Fine. We’re still together. One less record for you.”

“Good. Now…” Harry brushes a finger over her lips. “Say you’re in love with me.”

Y/N’s laughter fades a bit as the nerves set back in. “I…”

“Please, Y/N?” Harry murmurs, leaning down to kiss her neck. “Please say it.”

“I’m—” Y/N sucks in a quick breath, and all of her protest leaves her body as she exhales. “I’m in love with you, Harry.”

She can feel Harry’s lips forming a grin against her neck. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Y/N tugs on his hair gently, just enough so she can pull his head back to look in his eyes. “Now you say it.”

“Y/N.” Harry says her name like it’s something precious. “I’m in love with you.”

A flush of pleasure crawls up Y/N’s spine at his words, but she does her best to keep her tone light-hearted. “So are you calling our moms, or am I?”

“I’ll do it.” Harry reaches for his phone on the bedside table. “And I’ll be sure to mention how it took us getting drunk and having sex to realize—”

“Harry!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell your mum we used a condom—”

“I’ll kill you, Styles, and I’ll make it look like an accident.” Y/N shoves his shoulder hard.

Harry grins at her. “Now that’s romantic.”

#feedback is appreciated and use a condom kids #harry styles oneshot #bestfriend!harry #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles preference #one direction imagine #one direction preference #one direction fic #one direction fanfiction #one direction #best friend!harry sty;es #watermelon sugar #watermelon sugar music video #fine line album

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duskholland · 3 years

Note

hannah please do /anything/ based on the sink photo. sucking him off in front of the sink, getting railed over the sink, prof!tom fucking you at the sink. anything please, i need it

okay anon! after much debate about the tone, i went with loving... warm…. passionate….i missed you so much we must shag in the bathroom at the bar vibes <3 wc: 1.7k.

18+ nsfw content minors dni.

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

Tom’s been affectionate all night, his touch never leaving you. It’d started back at the house when he’d refused to let you get ready in peace, nuzzling his face into your neck as you’d done your makeup in the bathroom. His clinginess had continued all the way to the bar, where you find yourselves now, heaped together in a booth.

It’s an impromptu welcome home party for your boyfriend, who has been away filming on the other side of the world for three months. He arrived back last night, and though Tom’s made it very clear how much he’d missed you, he hasn’t yet been satisfied. He’s still affectionately smothering you, even now, surrounded by your friends.

Tom’s hand lies on your inner thigh, warm to touch, teasing your skin every time he pulls you closer. Between gaps in the conversation, he presses his lips to your cheek, always lingering close, his cologne overwhelming every one of your senses. He’s antsy, shifting from thigh to thigh. When you take a leaf from his book and place a hand on top of his knee to play with the material of his striped trousers, Tom shifts. A moment later, you feel his mouth go to your ear, smooth teeth grazing your lobe as his warm breath fans out across your neck.

“Darling,” he murmurs. “Care to take a visit to the bathroom with me?”

You bite back a smirk as you discreetly nod your head. “Thought you’d never ask.”

If your friends find it suspicious, they don’t say a thing. You’re quick to grab Tom’s hand and follow behind him as he strides across the bar, muttering out small apologies to everyone he bumps into in his haste. He sweeps you into a private bathroom before you have a second to think about the good luck of finding an unattended room, and he pushes you up against the door as he locks it with one hand.

Tom kisses you immediately, caging you in against the door as he groans into your mouth. One of his hands goes to your waist, the other reaching up to push into your hair. You sigh against his lips, the sound twisting louder as Tom deepens the kiss and slips his tongue into your mouth. You savour everything—the press of his figure to yours, the taste of his tongue as it slides over yours, the sounds of his panting breaths as he kisses you fervently. After a while, he moves closer, and you feel his cock pressing up against your form, straining through the thin material of his slacks.

“God, love,” he murmurs, voice husky. You tilt your head to the side, and his lips dance across your sensitive spot, suckling gently until you’re whimpering. “I can’t take this. I need you again.”

You chuckle as you reach up to play with his hair, your fingers messing up his silky brown strands. He’d gelled it back earlier, but he doesn’t seem to complain as you play around with it.

“Again?” you tease, biting your lip as you reach down to cup his hard length over his trousers. Tom whimpers, grunting as he thrusts his hips closer to you desperately. “We fucked before we came out?”

Tom grumbles. “We didn’t fuck,” he murmurs, nipping at your neck lightly. “We made love.”

You chuckle. “Oh, sorry,” you say. “We made love about two hours ago.”

“Mmm, and? My appetite for you is uncontrollable.” Tom pulls away from your neck, eyes dancing darkly. He slips a hand down, easily slipping it beneath the hem of your dress. “Are you trying to tell me I won’t find you soaked and needy for me if I have a look up here?”

Your breath hitches as Tom confidently rolls two fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, his smirk telling you all you need to know. You whimper as he immediately goes to your clit, rolling his fingertips over the bud as you shift against the door. When he curves them down and teases your entrance, you groan and push at his arm.

“Don’t tease me,” you say, voice low. You surge forward, pushing away from the door as you connect your lips with Tom’s. He smiles into it, hands falling tenderly to your waist as you walk him into the centre of the room, only stopping when you catch sight of the sink. “Fuck me on the sink,” you decide, speaking quickly. You support your quivering words with a nod. “Please, Tom.”

Tom takes control, pushing you back with his mouth as you continue to kiss until your back connects with the cool porcelain of the sink. His biceps bulge as he picks up one of your legs, wrapping it around his back and then bunching up your skirt and pulling it up.

“Against the sink?” he murmurs, pupils blown wide with lust. You reach out, making light work of his belt before pulling out his length. Neither of you shed your clothes entirely—the bathroom is dimly lit and a little unfriendly, and you’re both too eager to mess around with that. Instead, you pull off the precise amount of clothes necessary for Tom to be able to slide his cock through your exposed slit. “Fuck, love,” he coos, pressing his tip to your entrance. “I fucking love you.”

A gasp leaves your mouth as he slowly eases into you, bottoming out with a grunt. Your lips go back to his as you attempt to muffle your loud sounds of enjoyment as Tom’s cock fills you to the brim. Despite being fucked two hours prior, your walls hold him tightly, and you have to throw your head back to rest against the mirror as you take him.

“Oh my god,” you groan, the words twisting higher when Tom wraps an arm around your back and holds you to him. He starts to thrust quickly, his lips going back to your neck as he holds you up against the sink. “Feels so good.”

You glance down, moaning as you watch his cock disappear inside you. It’s a welcome sight—you’ve missed Tom immensely. You know you’ll savour every time you come together like this as if it could be your last. He’s just the same—sentimental and passionate. Tom groans into your ear, voice strained, “fuckin’ love this cunt, sweetheart. Doesn’t matter how much I fuck you, does it? Always so snug for me.”

You suck in a tight breath, his teasing words making you clench around him. “Shit, Tom.”

He chuckles against your neck, holding you tightly to him as he continues to thrust into you. “Darling?”

“Hm?”

“Turn around for me. I want you to see how beautiful you look right now.”

You smile as you do as instructed, only losing his presence for a moment as you spin around. You bend over, hands gripping the sides of the sink as Tom settles behind you, standing tall. He presses you against the sink, hand massaging your ass before he slips back into you, meeting your eyes through the mirror as he grunts. His eyes stay on you, his teeth digging into his red lower lip as he watches you, mouth pulling into an easy smile.

“Look at that,” he coos. “What a stunner. How lucky am I, eh?”

You look a mess in the reflection, your hair wild and your mouth open and panting. Yet, there’s something almost poetic about the way Tom grips you, every ounce of his attention placed solely on your form. You watch the way your body shifts every time he thrusts into you, hear the sounds of skin-on-skin as they match the movements. His face is flushed, his cheeks a dark red and his jaw tensed. Fly away hairs drift over his forehead, and his nostrils are flared.

“I’m lucky,” you reply, whimpering softly as he readjusts and the tip of his cock brushes up against your g-spot. You pry a hand from the sink and reach between your legs, jerkily stroking your bud. You’re close already, your slit slick and your breath laboured. Never in your life have you been with someone who knows your body so well, but that’s the perks of being with a lover as attentive as Tom. He loves making you feel good more than he cares for his own pleasure.

“Nah, I’m luckier.” Tom’s hands shift to your hips and he pulls you back to meet his thrusts. Your eyes roll back as pleasure rocks through you with every slam. “Look at this, hmm? I want you to keep watching us. Can you do that for me, darling? Even when you cum?” His voice is soft and suggestive, but you feel the harder undertones.

“Yeah,” you murmur, forcing yourself to meet his gaze through the mirror. You lick your lips as you see him, towering above you, railing you into the sink. The ceramic digs into your front, but the ache only makes everything feel sharper. “Tom,” you whine, breath catching, “I’m not gonna last.”

“Neither will I,” he admits. You look up, watching the veins in his neck stand out against his flushed skin. “Go on,” he urges. “Pretty girl. Lovely girl.” He’s speaking in puffed sentences, on the verge. “Cum for me, babe. Want to watch you lose it on this sink.”

You spiral with him, pressing your clit and feeling your high sweep over you as Tom thrusts into you. He’s pulsing too a few moments later, spilling his seed into you with a low yelp as his hot fingers pull at your dress. Both of you moan, your sounds mixing together as your breath fogs up the lower part of the mirror.

Tom bends over, scooping your hair to the side and kissing your neck. He’s near now, image lingering close in the mirror, eyes softer and pooled with love. His body is warm, and his front soothes your back as he moves closer and kisses your cheek.

“Love you,” he murmurs, voice soft. Both of you release soft groans as his cock slips from inside you, and he kisses your cheek again calmingly.

You tilt your head to the side, standing up a little straighter until you’re able to kiss his lips. Tom’s mouth is as warm as ever.

“Love you too, handsome,” you respond, voice gentle. “You’re insatiable.”

Tom grins against your mouth. “Well, if you were dating someone as beautiful as you, I’m sure you’d feel the same way.”

#i will now be on a writing break for several days hjdfhd if i think abt this man for even a second longer i will explode #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader smut #tom holland x reader #q #smut #myblurbs #tomblurbs #tom.filth

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tooruluv · 3 years

Text

Katsuki Bakugou x F!Reader ( part 1 )

❝ ...and then there’s you. ❞

description: you and bakugou have hated each other since childhood. through the constant bickering, fighting, and actual fist fights... you had no idea that you had been writing to him.

genre: angst, soulmate au where you have a notebook that you can write to your soulmate in

word count: 3.8k

warnings/notes: strong language, lots of angst, aged up characters, bakugou being bakugou, reader has an air manipulation quirk created as part 1 of 3 for my winner of my tooruluv2kparty contest @katsulovee <33

teaser | part 2

| masterlist

“ ‘cause when the sun goes down, someone’s talking back ” - talking to the moon, bruno mars

┏━━━━━⋇⋆⋆⋇❦⋇⋆⋆⋇━━━━━┓

The storm only escalated, casting the sky in deep blues and greys. Loud rain clattered against the roof of your apartment building, the ceiling of your top floor apartment being the only thing that separated you from the pour.

The rain may be cold, but you were on fire.

You had been livid all day, positively outraged by the man who seemed to always be in your way. He was the most arrogant, most opinionated, and most… loud-mouthed person you ever met. You were screaming from the inside out, burning with rage.

Groaning, you sprawled out on your bed.

Katsuki Bakugou was the biggest fucking issue on the planet. His absurd need to be the best at everything he did, his cold demeanor and venom that spews from his mouth -- you wanted nothing more than to punch him directly in the throat.

With a deep breath, you flipped open your Soulmate Journal.

The world was such a strange place, full of quirks and criminals and heroes and villains. To add on top of that, when you turn thirteen a journal just… appears. And whoever is your soulmate can read everything you write. Once they read it, they can reply or talk to you that way and the ink disappears. There are plenty of rules that go along with it, like if you turn thirteen before your soulmate does, the ink is red until they receive their own journal. Or how the journal itself is indestructible. Or the biggest rule: you cannot write any given name.

When you’re thirteen, your life is full of hope and wishful thinking. Almost everyone at that age is excited to start writing to their Person, the one who they were supposed to be created to be with. You were surprised when you opened yours to find nothing written.

You assumed that you were a bit older than your soulmate, but that was quickly shut down as you wrote in black ink. Your soulmate hadn’t written anything.

It took two months for him to write back. Two months of your excessive writing and nearly diary-like entries. Two months of you wondering if they would ever write back. Until he did.

Today sucked.

That was all you wrote, your past two months of writing still ever present and glaring at you with smudges and hinted annoyance. The ink started to fade like Harry talking to Tom Riddle, reappearing with new handwriting.

It was scrawled across the page with terrible handwriting, very much one of a middle school boy.

Life sucks. Deal with it.

You were now twenty two, an adult and that once hope and love has turned into pessimism and indifference. And life still sucked.

You were pretty famous, your air manipulation quirk one that catches a lot of attention. That, alongside your rivalry with the second most famous hero Bakugou, brought an abundance of recognition. Bakugou completely steals your thunder every chance he has, stealing your light and victories.

You hated him. With the utmost disrespect, you hated him. Since your days in the hero academy, the two of you were at each other’s throats. He would even stop in the middle of antagonizing Deku to make some horrendous comment towards you instead.

You ended up scribbling along the Soulmate Pages, heated rage boiling with each word.

Hey Honey! I need to vent if that’s okay.

Of course.

You would not believe the shit I have to endure in real life. I wish I could describe the hatred I have for this man I work with, he’s a real piece of shit. Anyway, how was your day?

My day was about the same as yours, living with the idiots of real life. If we could write names I would because there’s this bitch I work with that I fucking hate.

Maybe we need new jobs (insert laughing face even though I’m livid right now)

Yeah. Maybe. But we’ll get through it.

It took years for your soulmate to warm up to you. The first interactions were hesitant, slow, and barely considered conversations. But now you can discuss your day as if you were texting a friend, talk about your likes and dislikes.

He was your soulmate after all.

You learned that he was a boy and an only kid, he had a strong quirk, and that he liked ramen. He was a rule follower and his handwriting always used proper punctuation. You told him all about your life and how you wanted to travel away from everything.

You wanted to know who he was, more than anything.

You wished you could tell him your name and quirk, where you lived and who you were. You wished he could do the same.

You’ve tried, of course, to write out your name and location. But the second the words were written onto the page, they turned into a random assortment of letters. Gibberish. Never to be written, never to be known.

“Dude, fucking relax!” You rubbed your temple at your desk, voice spitting venom against Bakugou’s loud vocals. “Not everything is about you, just sit down and wait to be sent on a mission.”

“What did you say to me?”

Katsuki Bakugou had been going on and on about how Deku got assigned to a mission in upper Japan, sent to work with a separate force for a bit to expand his horizon. He was outraged, yelling and standing tall and broad to pretend to be bigger than he was.

You were doing paperwork, trying to concentrate despite his yelling and complaining and bitching. You were hovering above your seat with your legs crossed, papers scattered (it was a habit of yours, to just kind of hover a couple of inches off the surface of things; air manipulation and all that).

“I said,” You turned to look into his ablaze eyes. “Sit down and wait. Not everything is about you.”

You only threw fuel into his fire, you could hear the sparking between his fingers. You turned back to your paperwork.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do, you’re not even in the top five heroes.” Bakugou barked in your direction. You could feel his heat as he approached your desk. “You can sit and do your own paperwork all you want! I need to be put on serious cases, just like stupid Deku is always placed on.”

“You can argue with me all you want.” You moved to continue your work, pretending to be unbothered. You could feel the anger boil in your chest. “But you still are and will always be measly little number two. Now shut the fuck up, you’re interrupting those who are actually working.”

He was going to hit you, you knew he was. You two ended up fist fighting all the time, oxygen and explosions ending in destruction. Before he could, your boss walked in with a bellowing, “Bakugou! Get over here, I have something for your loud ass!”

You decided to give him a bored middle finger as he walked away.

They say that words are the way of life. You could say an infinite amount of words and sentences in your lifespan, you could say a word and only ever say it one time. Each assortment of words are different each time, something new every day.

You figured that’s why you hated the soulmate thing.

Finding your soulmate should be one of chance, of pure coincidence and meeting of strangers. With the journal, you are starting something you only hope to find. You could go your whole life without finding your soulmate.

And that is terrifying.

There are horror stories of writing to an endless notebook, sad movies created where the lettering turns back to red before they’ve found each other. You wanted nothing more than to meet and just… be with the man you’ve been writing to since you were thirteen.

It seemed to be some sick joke, a tease in the palm of your hands.

When you were young, you attended UA High. It was meant to be the best school for heroes, grooming them into the best of the best. Both of your parents had been heroes themselves, your mom with a cloud quirk and your dad with wings. You took after a bit of both, no wings and no clouds but could create air currents and manipulate the air surrounding you within a certain radius. It has something to do with your breath and lungs, but you never looked too much into the actual DNA aspect.

When you arrived in the hero program, you passed the tests with ease. You tried to focus mainly on yourself and gaining your own points, alongside a couple of students with the same idea.

You were pissed when you were placed in 1-B instead of 1-A. It was the start of your rivalry with the explosion boy.

Luckily, you quickly gained friends. You actually seemed to have a soft spot for Hitoshi Shinsou, and you and Itsuka Kendou seemed to be the only two with brains (this led to many conversations resulting in shit talking and giggling). So in the end, you weren’t too upset to be placed in the second best class.

And you did get to fight with Bakugou a lot more without punishment, your professor wanting to be number one as much as anyone else.

One particular day that you remember to this day, one that really labeled your hatred for Bakuogu, was just a normal day at first. You were finished with your normal morning classes and just beginning the hero portion of the day, the training and fighting.

Your class was working with Class 1-A for the day, teaming up with one of their students and seeing how your quirks would act both against and with each other.

You were, of course, teamed with Bakugou.

The fucker was already set in his ways, loud and in need of attention at all times. You were well aware of his… loud personality… at that point, being beside Shinsou when he called your class “extras”. He was already someone you wanted nothing to do with.

“Good luck.” Kendou muttered to you when your names were announced as partners. “See ya.”

The second you headed to him, you could feel his apprehension. He wanted nothing to do with you. And you wanted nothing to do with him. In fact, you were hoping for Uraraka as your partner, wanting to see how your air manipulation would work with her gravity.

Apparently the professors wanted to see the oxygen working with the burst of flames. Which, honestly, is cool yes — but it was the person behind the explosions that you did not want to be a part of.

Bakugou was not one to mumble under his breath.

“Why am I paired with you?” He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest. “I could at least be with someone interesting like Mind Control over there.”

You already wanted to punch him. “You’ve obviously never seen my quirk.”

“Clearly it hasn’t been interesting enough to be worth my attention.”

“Say that again when I remove the oxygen straight from your lungs.” You threatened, knowing damn well you didn’t know how to do that yet. “Let’s just get this over with.”

He let out a long exhale, moving into position. You were already flying by the time he let off his first explosion.

His utter disrespect for you and your quirk not only irritated you, but only was the start of a long term competition on Who Can Be Better Than Who that lasted the rest of your time at UA.

Through the constant loud arguments, the yelling in the cafeteria and the comments just loud enough for the other to hear, the fist fights and the swearing that was reserved only for each other, you found comfort in talking to your soulmate. It was relaxing after a long day of pure annoyance and shit talking to finally just get to have normal conversations with someone you enjoy.

Are we allowed to ask about school in this thing?

I don’t think so.

I’m sighing. Pretend that you could hear my sigh.

Wow, that was a loud sigh.

YOU’RE FUNNY! Anyway, I really want to know if we go to school together :(((

I don’t even think we can talk about JRTPD or BO::SOMD. See, they turn into gibberish.

I mean… we can say school. So we can ask ABOUT school just not… specific schools.

That’s true. I go to a special school and am the best in my class. You’re getting lucky by having me as a soulmate.

Well I would only hope so. Need a smart soulmate for fun facts.

Fun fact: you’re pretty cool. I guess.

Ah, the admission of your love for me.

Not love. I don’t hate talking to you if that does anything for you.

The one person you don’t hate. I’ll take it, Soulmate.

Don’t push it.

We should give each other nicknames. Since we can’t call each other by our real names.

Does the book allow it?

My parents did it before they found each other.

Okay. Like what?

I can call you Hot Head, because you’re hot and because you are always writing about how mad you are.

No.

I can always go with something cute like Honey.

This is gross. I was thinking like gamer tag nicknames.

Okay, Honey.

I take back what I said, asshole.

Honey and Asshole. The perfect pair. We could solve crimes!

I’m going to bed now.

Goodnight Honey ♡ I know that you aren’t reading these but you will in the morning. Dork.

“Do you know who your soulmate is?” You asked.

You were hanging out with Kendou, Monoma, and Shinsou in Kendou’s bedroom. The dorm rooms were all set up the exact same way, but for some reason Kendou’s always seemed to be bigger.

“No idea.” Monoma shrugged. “I don’t think I want to know until I’m older, we’re too young and I want to focus on graduating first.”

“He’s right.” Kendou twisted in her position on her bed. “Why? Do you want to know who yours is?”

“I want to know more than anything.” You sighed. Your head was laid across Shinsou’s lap on the floor. “We get along so well and I try to talk to him every day.”

“How do you know it’s a he?”

“He told me.” You laughed. “We tried really hard to narrow it down as much as possible.”

“It sounds like he wants to know you too.” Kendou said. She giggled. “I should ask my soulmate their gender.”

“What about you, Shinsou?”

“I barely write to mine.” He shrugged, making your head tilt a little. “I’m sure they understand.”

“I’m sure they do, they were made to be yours.” You looked up at him with a smile. “Of everyone, I thought you would write the most.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because most people are scared to talk to you in real life.”

He flicked your forehead. “You aren’t scared to talk to me.”

“I’m not scared to talk to anyone.”

“I’ve noticed.”

You sighed and closed your Soulmate Journal, the rain now casting a dark shadow across the entirety of the sky. Your face was flushed in red, hair disheveled and you were still in your hero uniform, dirty and kind of burnt.

Katsuki Bakugou had not only interrupted your victory, but he had claimed it as his own. His desperation to be the number one hero hadn’t stopped. It’s been years, you’ve grown past his stupid desire and he simply… hasn’t.

You fought the villain yourself, using your quirk to it’s full capabilities and trapping them in a circle of air. You fought for over an hour by yourself, taking up the mission while out and witnessing it first hand. Your freshly bought coffee was long forgotten as you raced after the thief.

The second you landed the thief, the ball of air dissipating as you grew tired, Bakugou arrived in a fiery feat and handcuffed the villain. Of course, the main photos were of him with the handcuffs, standing proud as if he hadn’t stolen your fight.

His argument was that he did help. Yeah, he did ‒ for three seconds.

Katsuki Bakugou was a piss stain upon himself, truly the worst of the worst who’s own personal interest outweighs anything else in his life. He will never be anything but second best because he never thinks of anyone but himself.

If only he could read thoughts instead of turning his sweat to ignition. Then you wouldn’t have to put your harsh thoughts into tone.

Your Soulmate was one of two people you genuinely enjoyed talking to, he always seemed to be on the same page as you. The other is Shinsou, from your high school. He was the only one you really kept in contact with.

Sometimes you like to convince yourself that Shinsou is your soulmate, since he hasn’t found his either. But you compared the handwriting and it didn’t match at all. Shinsou’s handwriting was much smaller and neater than the man you would eventually call yours.

“This is so fucking stupid!” You screamed, your rage reaching its max.

You threw your journal across your bedroom, the storm masking the sound of it banging against the wall by your bed. You were pissed, you wanted nothing more than to see Bakugou’s downfall. It’s been years. You were over it.

You were over it all. You were over him, you were over not knowing your soulmate, you were over being alone in your stupid apartment. It all reached it’s apex. Maybe you needed a shower, or maybe you needed to move from your job.

Your fit was interrupted by a loud crash on the roof of your apartment building. You nearly jumped at the sound, the sound not even close to the crashes of thunder.

You rushed to the roof, your hero senses kicking in more than your regular carefulness. Once you were outside, you were almost instantly drenched in the rain. Only a couple of yards ahead of you was a man crumbled to the ground; they must’ve hit the roof harder than you thought.

When they turned, clutching their side, you knew instantly who it was.

“Deku?” You rushed towards him. “I thought you were in Hirosaki for some serious villain.”

He moved to stand, much taller and broad than he was back in high school. Yet still with the fluffy green hair and bright eyes with hope always seemingly sewed in.

“I was. I just… I need your help.”

“Why do you need my help?” You helped him stand fully, taking his hand from his side to check for an injury. He wasn’t bleeding. “Doesn’t Uraraka live around here?”

“I don’t… want to involve her in this.” He stood straight. His healing must’ve started. “I… this is something I need you for.”

“Okay…” You crossed your arms. “What do you need?”

“I know what you’re going to say.” Deku started, and you didn’t move. “But it’s Bakugou.”

“No.”

“C’mon, Aero, I know that you two…”

“No.”

“Please, I…”

“Deku, you know more than anyone how and who he is. Whatever it is, he can deal with it himself.” You started back towards the stairs. “I appreciate you coming to me, for whatever reason, but this is something that you have to find someone else for.”

“Don’t think of this as us doing something for him.” Deku rushed to stand in front of you. “Think of it as a favor for me. You owe me one.”

“Don’t do this now.”

“I’m officially cashing in my favor.”

You sighed, “Fine. Can you at least tell me what we need to do for the asshole?”

“I’ll tell you on the way.” He nearly jumped in joy. “But you cannot tell anyone. Not Shinsou, not the police, and not our boss. This is under the radar.”

“Oh, shit.” You followed him as you flew next to him. “What are you getting me into?”

tag list: @katsulovee @paradisebabey @seaofemptygold @zhaixiaowen @daylghits @haikyuusimp91 @darknessyournewfriend @samwise-though @liaxxx109

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4dtk · 3 years

Text

have this absolute shameless drabble of sugar daddy gojo that i wrote in between requests. my fingers have never typed so fast im sorry this is literally self-indulgent at this point ARJGJFFJ.

disclaimer i honestly can't see anyone calling gojo daddy but just for this fic..... ill allow it..... and also bc sugar daddy gojo is just always residing in my mind. did you see how he transferred 10 mil to mei mei!!!!! i will never shut the fuck up about that scene. pls spoil me <3

warnings: praise, public sex, sugar daddy/sugar baby relations, breeding kink, pet names

NSFW UNDER THE CUT, MINORS DNI

sugar daddy!gojo pushes you up against the window of the store, visible for everyone to see you getting fucked senseless. in the gucci store four floors up, it could work both ways. fortunate to be so high up, although people would be getting a treat if they happened to look up.

“you know what you’re doing, baby?” he grunts, hips rocking into your soaked pussy as the staff outside try to ignore the lewd noises coming from behind the curtains.

it was supposed to be a simple trip: get a dress for gojo’s event in a few weeks and get out. with a tight arm wrapped around his, you followed him around like a starstruck puppy, the edges of your lips curled up knowing he’d treat you a million times over if you just asked for it.

gojo wasn’t any different, either. sure, he’s had sugar babies in the past, but not quite like you who’s so easy to please and spoil, knowing you could never say no even if your life depended on it. with your desperate listing for the requirement of monetary assistance, gojo couldn’t resist taking up the offer.

he just hadn’t expected you to be so… pliant. you had taken it like a good little bitch, too, moaning out for everyone to hear because you liked it like that.

“you’re taking my cock so well, princess,” gojo muttered out, lips nibbling on your ear as he continued to pound you. his grin that you feel against your skin plagues your mind, wanting nothing more than to see how he enjoys ruining you.

the catchy, upbeat pop song playing above you seemed to provide some rhythm, the sultry lyrics fuelling you further.

"so needy that i had to buy out the whole store for an hour, huh?" the male slows his pace, delivering deep thrusts into your cunt with the precision of an expert.

all you can reply are in little pants, sentences incoherent from how deep his cock is in you.

"i don't even think an hour is enough to satisfy my pretty little girl, isn't that right?" gojo picks up the speed again, and you're brought back to the many times he's fucked over his counter, washing machine. to the times where he's eaten you out on his office table and in his sheets of his king-sized.

and now, you've got another memory locked away for nights full of loneliness and soaked underwear when gojo's just too busy for you.

a tongue to your nipples and a hand to your clit makes you choke out a moan, writhing against the glass just to feel more of gojo, more of his cock and more of his lips on your neck.

you're struggling to keep yourself up, finding the right time in between muffled moans and whimpers to ask for one more wish.

"daddy... p-please, i wanna see your-"

"what, baby? repeat it for me." goddamn, the man had no problem articulating his words, how much had he fucked you already?

clearly not enough if you're still able to speak.

"w-wanna see your face when you fuck me deep, daddy!"

your wish is taken away when you're already creaming all over gojo as your hot breath creates fog on the glass in a silent scream.

"aw, you're cumming so hard baby~ you didn't even get to see me yet," he coos, enjoying the gush of your juices that coat his dick and your thighs. everything feels sticky and dirty, but you don't hesitate to beg for one more fuck with your eyes.

gojo catches your drift immediately, hips twitching from the idea of pumping you full of his cum. after all, he hasn't come yet.

he grunts at the time with a quick glance to the clock above your head. without wasting any more time, he flips you over, the restraint to cum slowly reaching its limit with your lolling tongue and fucked-out face.

the male doesn't bother to hide the deep groan that rips from his throat when he drags his dick along your folds, strings of both your juices stretching out in a way that hypnotises gojo.

"n-need your cock, daddy! please!" you whine, grinding your hips against the tip to make sure gojo knows of your desperation. that he's the only one to fuck you so good that no one else can satisfy you.

he smiles knowingly before he sinks into you.

gojo knows that he's the only one that can make you feel this way as he picks up the tempo, hitting spots in you that you didn't know was physically possible.

gojo knows that he's the only one you call daddy shamelessly as he writes off his card to help you in your student debts and the sparkly dress you've been eyeing.

he could throw you away the second you're done with university, the second the media's off his ass about his love life but, the sweet, sweet moans spilling from your lips pull him back in every single time, eager to hear it for as long as your bank's empty and his is piled up with money.

"more! satoru, more, fuuuck..." you groan, shying away from the striking blues of his eyes the more he drinks in your current state.

he's barely holding on, not even minding the first name you called him. the short skirt he'd given you flipped up makes him go crazy, your panties moved to the side to receive the dressing room quickie you always wanted.

"you're so de..eep daddy! i need all your c-cum please...!" it's a mix between a whimper and a whine.

"yeah? 'course i am, baby. your pussy is sucking me in all the w-way," gojo's hips stutters at how you squirm in his tight grasp, locking eyes with him as yours fill with want. your pussy is throbbing, stretched out so much that you don't register the thumb playing with your clit.

"s' too much...! s' too much, d-daddy!"

"you're a good girl, aren't you?" the way you nod is pathetic, eyebrows knitted from being stuffed so full.

"pretty little thing- fuuck..." gojo's losing control himself, the way his balls slaps against your cunt resonates around the small space and nothing feels better than being inches deep in you.

you're a babbling mess by then, unable to even scream out as you cream his cock. with head thrown back, you're left frozen for a second as the orgasm washes over you and a violent shudders goes through your thighs.

"daddy has so much, s-shit- cum for you, doll," it isn't long before the other comes undone, a groan escaping his lips before he shoots his load deep into you.

your pussy is stained white from all the cum he's giving you, gasping from how much gojo is leaking into you.

"thank y-you, satoru..." you trembling has affected your voice, too, burying your head into gojo's neck while your body shivers from sensitivity.

"take all of it, baby," gojo whispers, the hand near your middle moves instantly to finger his cum back into you, fixing back your underwear over your pussy.

a cheeky giggle leaves your mouth as you untangle yourself from the embrace, welcoming a kiss from the man as he slowly begins to clean up himself.

"have you chosen a dress yet, sir?"

gojo's smile is mischievous, not missing the way your face flushes at having to face the embarrassed staff outside.

"we'll take everything, thanks," his eyes never leave you as he helps you off the changing room chair, tugging your body flush to his before leaving you with one more hungry kiss.

"you did so well for daddy, doll. i may just have to treat you tonight since you have a day off university tomorrow..."

even if it wasn't in the contract, gojo loved to spoil you, admiring your mettle when it comes to material items. although...

"you know what i mean," it's enchanting, the way his voice travels like silk, "i'll call in sick for work tomorrow, yeah?"

your mind goes to mush at what tonight might entail, losing all train of coherence when his hushed whisper of my baby's so cute reaches your ear.

in a second you're out of there, hand twined with his while you remain giddy with the thought of getting used by gojo until you reach your limit.

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yelena-bellova · 3 years

Text

Safe Haven: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader - Chapter Three

chapter two - Chapter Three: Ceasefire - chapter four

Series Masterlist

Plot: Bucky, Sam and Y/n visit Baltimore and unearth a long kept, heartbreaking secret. Bucky and Y/n’s tension comes to a head when they meet with Dr. Raynor.

Word Count: 7.3k

Warnings: spoilers for episode. 2, angst, language, racial undertones, racial profiling, PTSD, mention of torture, mention of suicide, fluffy angst, Walker is an asshole and Y/n is a bad bitch, the start of the slow burn 🔥

A/N: This shit was heavy to write because of the subject matter so hopefully the fluff towards the end makes up for all the angst I’m about to put you through lol. Honestly, it’s so hard to write this series not having the ending of the show yet 😂 Like I’m trying to build this and I know where I need it to go but it all depends on the show. This week’s episode was 👀 and I’m already drafting in my head. Anyways, enjoy!

----

Military craft bathrooms, I had found out, were not an ideal place to apply makeup.

I had woken up in the early morning hours stiff, achy and with a deep purple bruise on my cheek. I’d done my best to conceal it as to not attract attention wherever Bucky was taking us, but I wasn’t a magician.

Sam and I had yet to speak about me going home, but the tense exchange we’d shared before I passed out still hung over us. It wasn’t like we’d never fought, but the reasoning had never been over one of our lives being endangered. I didn’t want to leave him, but it was futile to argue the point.

The neighborhood that we were passing through didn’t look all that different from New Orleans. Bucky still had yet to tell us who we were here to see, only that it was important that Sam met him. I was done asking questions and trailed behind them on the sidewalk, my hands shoved in my jacket pockets and my head hung in defeat. I’d tried to do the superhero thing and failed miserably.

“Hey, it’s Black Falcon! What’s up?” “It’s just Falcon, kid,” Sam replied to the boy sat in front of a chain-linked fence with his friend.

“No, no, my daddy told me it’s Black Falcon,” the kid insisted.

Sam stopped in front of them, “Is it because I’m black and I’m the Falcon?” “Well, technically, I mean, yes,” he shrugged. “So are you, like, Black Kid?” The kid’s friend burst into laughter and Sam did the same, “I got him, right?”

“Whatever, man…” the kid sat down, I was just about to pass him when he stopped me, “Are you a superhero too?” Sam stopped and looked back at me, his lips pressed in a thin frown. His eyes were sympathetic but I wasn’t in any mood to discuss my unsuccessful attempt to enter his world. I gave a sad smile to the kid, “No, I’m not.” I patted his shoulder and left, Sam chose to walk with me instead of ahead of me.

Bucky was already on the house’s front porch when we climbed the stairs, he banged on the door marked with a ‘No Trespassing’ sign. We waited a few seconds before it opened to reveal a boy, 16 or 17 maybe.

“We’re here to see Isaiah,” Bucky said. “Nobody named Isaiah live here,” the teen replied.

“Look, we just want to talk to him,” Bucky gently pushed.

“You must not hear what I just said, you ain’t getting in this house. Ya’ll can leave now.” Bucky dropped his head and shut his eyes, looking as if what he was about to say pained him. “Tell him the guy from the bar in Goyang is here,” his voice dropped, “He’s gonna know what that means.”

The boy’s eyes bounced between the three of us before backing away from the door, “All right, wait here.” “Nice kid,” Sam commented once he was gone, “How do you know this guy?” “I used to, we had a skirmish during the Korean War,” Bucky explained. The screened door opened once again to reveal the teen, “Today’s your lucky day. He said he wanna see for himself.”

Bucky led the way inside followed by Sam and I. Where the living room met the dining room was where a tall, grey haired black man stood. “Isaiah,” Bucky greeted him as we stepped inside. “Look at you,” Isaiah said, taking cautious steps toward Bucky. “This is, uh, Sam. Sam, this is Isaiah,” Bucky raised his hand toward the man, “He was a hero. One of the ones that HYDRA feared the most, like Steve. We met in ’51.”

“If by met, you mean I whupped your ass, then, yeah,” Isaiah interrupted to correct Bucky’s inaccurate storytelling. “We heard whispers he was on the peninsula, but everyone they sent after him, never came back. So the U.S. military dropped me behind the line to go deal with him,” he spat the last part of the sentence. “I took half that metal arm in that fight in Goyang, but I see he’s managed to grow it back. I just wanted to see if he got the arm back or if he’d come to kill me.” I watched over Sam’s shoulder as Bucky shook his head. “I’m not a killer anymore,” his voice hitched slightly.

“You think you can wake up one day and decide who you wanna be? It doesn’t work like that,” Isaiah’s voice hardened, “Well, maybe it does for folks like you.” There was a pause as Bucky collected himself before we got to the heart of the matter, “Isaiah, the reason we’re here is because there’s more of you and me out there.”

“You and me…” Isaiah seethed, his eyes boring into Bucky.

“And we need to know how…” “I’m not gonna talk about it anymore,” Isaiah growled before picking up a metal tin and flinging it across the room. Sam threw an arm out to shield me but the tin lodged itself in the wooden paneling of the walls. With that power at his age, Isaiah was undoubtably a Super Soldier.

He took deliberate steps toward us till he stood only a foot away from Bucky. “You know what they did to me for being a hero? They put my ass in jail,” Isaiah’s voice broke, the traumatic memories were hitting him as he spoke, “For thirty years. People running tests, taking my blood, coming into my cell. Even your people weren’t done with me.” “Isaiah…” Sam said carefully.

“Get out of my house!” Sam and I startled at the sudden noise, but I didn’t fault Isaiah for his reaction. My heart broke for him in fact. Tears had welled in my eyes as he told us fragments of his life, my hand slipped to my mouth to prevent my sobs from escaping. Bucky turned away first, leading me out as Isaiah’s presumed grandson did the same to Sam. He pushed ahead of us both, every emotion possible playing out on his face.

“Sam…” Bucky began as we descended the front steps of the house.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Isaiah? How could nobody bring him up?” Sam angrily pointed a finger towards Bucky, who remained quiet as the three of us walked down the middle of the road. “I asked you a question, Bucky.” “I know…” “Steve didn’t know about him?” Sam asked.

“He didn’t, I didn’t tell him,” Bucky answered, his eyes never leaving the ground.

“How could you not tell him?” I exclaimed, my tears still tracing abstract patterns down my cheeks, “If there were anybody to tell, it would have been him!” “So you’re telling me,” Sam stopped walking and pointed back to Isaiah’s house, “That there was a black Super Soldier decades ago and nobody knew about it?”

Before Bucky got the chance to answer, the siren on a nearby police car sounded off. Two officers pulled up and exited the vehicle, “Hey.” “What’s up, man?” Sam said.

“Is there a problem here?” one asked, focusing on Sam.

“No, we’re just talking,” he answered, gesturing between the three of us. “We’re fine,” Bucky answered, visibly put out by the interruption.

“Really, we’re fine,” I shakily spoke up, wiping my palms under my wet eyes.

The officers didn’t accept our answers, instead coming closer towards Sam. “Can I see your ID?”

“I don’t have ID, why?”

“Okay, sir,” the officer held up his hands, “Just calm down.” “I am calm,” Sam responded, I could see the anger bubbling below his surface, “What do you want? We’re just standing here talking.” Bucky gestured towards the policemen, “Just give him your ID so we can leave.” The tears I was fighting so hard to control couldn’t be stopped as I watched the scene play out. “No,” Sam protested, “I’m not giving him shit, we’re just talking.” “Officers, there’s nothing going on,” I insisted, sniffling as I tried to speak. “Ma’am,” one of the men approached me, holding his hands out carefully as if to shield me from Sam, “If this man is making you uncomfortable in any way-“ “He’s my brother,” I sidestepped away from the cop, “You’re the only ones making us feel uncomfortable.” “He’s not bothering either of us, do you know who this is?” Bucky gestured towards Sam, I came to stand between both of them and placed a protective hand on Sam’s shoulder. If anything was going down, I was going down with him.

The cop that had briefly stepped away to his car came back and whispered something into his co-worker’s ear. His jaw dropped as he looked Sam over again, this time with a much less aggressive stare. “I am so sorry, Mr Wilson,” the bastard had the audacity to chuckle, “I didn’t recognize you without the goggles. I’m really, really sorry about this.” A second police car came down the street and stopped in front of us. The officers told us to wait as they hurried to try and clean up their mistake. It didn’t matter, the damage had already been done. Neighbors and people passing by were stood outside houses and on the sidewalk watching the scene unfold. And there stood Sam, the leading role of a story these men had written and forced him into. I’d never felt more helpless in that moment when I realized that had he not been recognized, there wouldn’t have been anything I could’ve done to save him.

“I didn’t…I didn’t tell anybody because he had already been through enough,” Bucky said quietly, reeling us back to our original point of conversation.

“Mr. Barnes,” the officer who had tried to cage me from Sam approached Bucky, “There’s a warrant out for your arrest.” “Look, the president pardoned him for all that,” Sam said. “Not for that. You missed your court-mandated therapy. It’s like missing a check-in with your PO. I’m sorry, Mr. Barnes, you’re under arrest.” Resigned was the only word I could think of to describe Bucky’s expression. He willingly followed and allowed them to handcuff him, quickly shaking his head at us as if to apologize for the ridiculousness as he got into the car. The worst part was I knew that if Sam or I were stupid enough to speak up, the consequences would be far worse than our reluctant cooperation. The car drove off, carrying Bucky and all his demons he hadn’t told his therapist about this week.

Sam and I remained frozen in the street, playing the last five minutes back in our heads. In a little house in a corner of Baltimore sat a war torn, wrongfully imprisoned, black Super Soldier who hadn’t had the suddenly privileged lifestyle Steve Rogers had. Isaiah had been beaten down, experimented on and abused for almost half of his life. The samples that had been taken from his body against his will had been used to create the Super Soldiers we’d met, ones that were out for blood. “Let’s get out of here,” Sam muttered, putting a hand on my back and pulling me into his side protectively. I snuck one last glance at Isaiah’s home, praying that whatever time he had left on earth was spent in the peace he deserved.

——

We hitched a cab ride to the downtown police station and were informed at the front desk that Bucky was being released. His therapist was flying in from New York to come and meet with him.

Sam and I sat in the uncomfortable chairs of the waiting area, him on his phone and me zoning out on the wall. The ‘what ifs’ of our confrontation with the police were still swirling around in my head, each one more brutal than the last.

“I’m not leaving,” I blurted out, “After this, I’m not leaving you guys.” Sam sighed and switched off his phone, “I’m not gonna argue this again with you. I’m keeping you safe, I don’t care whether you like it or not.” “Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m feeling,” I turned to him, my eyes watery and my fidgeting fists clenched in my lap. “I’m not going home just so I can sit from a safe distance and worry whether or not you’re gonna die at the hands of some cop who feels brave. Or a bunch of Super Soldiers with a grudge against the world,” I forced the lump building in my throat down, “I’m not going to leave and wait for your body to come back in a casket. The only way I’m going home is if you’re with me.” His lips parted like he was about to say something before deciding against it. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but I could see that my speech had affected him. He pulled me into him, my head laying on his shoulder and his arm around my neck. I had worried for my brother’s life when he was first in the service, even more when he first became an Avenger. But that fear couldn’t compare to the kind I felt when the cops disregard each of his truths. I sniffled as I rested against him, trying hard not to imagine a world where Sam Wilson wasn’t by my side.

“Sam,” a women approached us, “I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Dr. Raynor, James’ therapist.” We rose and Sam shook her hand, “So nice to meet you.” “Y/n Y/l/n,” I introduced myself as she extended the same greeting, “Thank you for getting Bucky out.”

“That was not me,” she smiled politely.

“Christina!” a nearby voice shouted, “It’s great to see you again.”

When bulls see the color red, it angers them to the point that they’ll charge toward it in a fit of rage. My reaction to seeing John Walker in the red white and blue suit was one of a similar caliber.

“You gotta be kidding me,” I grumbled, covering my face with my palm.

“You know him?” Sam asked in disbelief. “Yeah, we did some field ops back in the day,” Dr. Raynor answered.

Walker strutted towards us, “I heard you were working with Bucky so I thought I’d step in. Bucky’s not gonna be following a strict schedule any longer.”

“We haven’t finished our work,” she asserted, “Who authorized this?” Walker held up two hands and aimed them at his arrogant self. “He’s too valuable of an asset to have tied up. Just do whatever you got to do with him, then send him off to me. Got some unfinished business, him and I,” he pointed to me and Sam, “You guys too. I’ll be outside.”

He marched back out through the door he’d come through and if we hadn’t been in a police station, I might have reeled him back in with my energy to inform him of just how low of a chance there was that we’d ever take an order from him. But if we had to go through him to spring Bucky, I’d bite my tongue for his sake.

“James,” Dr. Raynor turned, addressing Bucky who was now leaned up against the nearby counter, “Condition of your release, session now,” she looked over her shoulder towards us, “You too, Sam, Y/n.” Sam was quick to decline for us both, “That’s okay, we’ll be out here-“ “That wasn’t a request.”

Judging by the unenthusiastic glare we were getting from Bucky, he wasn’t any more excited than we were. “The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can leave,” I said to Sam, taking the initiative and following Dr. Raynor, once again with the men in my tow.

“What exactly is your relationship with James, Miss Y/l/n?” Dr. Raynor asked as she slowed her pace to match mine. “I don’t have a relationship with him,” I answered plainly, “I only met him yesterday. We got our asses kicked in Munich together.”

We were led into an interrogation room, just as cold and bleak as the ones I’d seen on tv. There were two chairs on each side of the table awaiting us. “Since I’m here primarily to speak with James and Sam, Y/n,” Dr. Raynor removed her coat and placed it on the back of her seat, “You can observe alongside me. You two on that end.” A simple thing as even sitting next to one another seemed like too big an ask for Sam and Bucky. The two of them looked like kids sent to the principal’s office as they begrudgingly sat down. I for one was looking forward to watching them sort out whatever beef they had that I had gotten tangled up in.

“So,” Dr. Raynor set her notebook down on the table, “Who would like to start?” “All right, look, Dr. Raynor?” Sam began, “I get it, why you want me to talk to Freaky Magoo over here. But I’m 100% fine.” Sam’s fatal mistake was darting his eyes over to me before looking back at her. I already knew he was lying, but his tell confirmed it.

“It is my job to make sure that you’re okay,” Dr. Raynor addressed Bucky, “And so, yeah, this may be slightly unprofessional but it’s the only way that I can see if you’re getting over whatever’s eating at you.”

“This is ridiculous,” Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I agree,” Bucky shook his head.

“This is the first time they’ve agreed on anything for the past twenty four hours,” I spoke up, leaning back in my seat to watch the show unfold.

“See? We’re making progress already,” Dr. Raynor said, “So, who wants to go first?”

Silence.

“No volunteers? Wow, how surprising…” she remarked, “Okay, we’re going to do an exercise. It’s something I use with couples when they are trying to figure out what kind of life they wanna build together. Are you familiar with the miracle question?”

“Absolutely not,” Bucky answered.

“Of course not,” Sam’s voice overlapped with Bucky’s.

“Okay, it goes like this. Suppose that while you’re sleeping, a miracle occurs. When you wake up, what is something that you would like to see that would make your life better?’

Bucky suddenly became chatty, “In my miracle, um, he would…he would talk less.”

“Exactly what I was gonna say,” Sam replied, “Isn’t that ironic?”

“You guys are leaving me with no choice,” Dr. Raynor shrugged, “It’s time for the soul-gazing exercise.” “I like this better,” Bucky perkily pointed a finger towards his shrink.

Sam chuckled quietly to himself, “He’s gonna love this.” “Yeah, I’m ready.” “This is right up your alley…” Dr. Raynor motioned for them to rotate, ”Turn around, face each other.” “You should really enjoy this,” Sam said acidly.

“I’m going to,” Bucky said with a sarcastic smile, the only one I’d seen him wear. “Let’s do it,” he said happily as Sam moved to face him, “Let’s stare. This is a good exercise, thanks Doc.” “Alright, get close,” Dr. Raynor instructed, they scooted slightly towards one another, “Come on, get closer.” With their knees touching, any further would put them much closer than either of them would ever want. “Which way do you want to go?” Bucky asked, “Right or left?” “Why are your legs open?” Sam asked impatiently, “You know what? Fine, here, you happy now?” He used Bucky’s chair to pull him forward so they legs were locked together.

“That’s a little close,” Bucky said loudly, adjusting in his seat. Sam nodded in agreement, “It’s very close, that’s what you wanted, right?”

I couldn’t hold in my laughter anymore, causing both of them to shoot daggers at me. “Is this fun for you?” Sam snapped, gesturing towards their touching thighs. “Very,” I grinned unapologetically.

“Guys,” Dr. Raynor held up a hand to silence us all, “Now, look at each other. You need to look at each other in the eyes,” they obeyed and lifted their eyes to meet, “There, you see? That wasn’t so hard.” The stares they wore intensified, “Wait, what are you doing?” Dr. Raynor asked, “Are you having a staring contest?” Sam adjusting his eyebrows was her answer, she leaned over the table and snapped her fingers. “Just blink! All right, James, why does Sam aggravate you?” Bucky turned to his therapist with as close to a real smile as I’d seen on him when she cut him off, “And don’t say something childish.” His head lolled to the side in defeat, his pink tongue came out to wet his lips as he thought over his answer. “Why did you give up that shield?” “Why are you making such a big deal over something that has nothing to do with you?” Sam shot back.

“Steve believed in you, he trusted you. He gave you that shield for a reason,” Bucky’s emotions were starting to seep out, “That shield, that is- that is everything he stood for. That is his legacy. He gave you that shield and you threw it away like it was nothing.” “Shut up…” Sam muttered.

“So maybe he was wrong about you. And if he was wrong about you, then he was wrong about me.”

The way that Bucky’s voice had quivered at the end was telling of just how deep the wound ran. But Sam’s forgoing of the shield was backed by reasons that Bucky could never wrap his mind around.

“You finished?” Sam spoke up, when Bucky said yes, he continued, “All right, good. Maybe this is something you or Steve will never understand. But can you accept that I did what I thought was right?”

This was the issue that made the heavy silence we were sitting in all the more complicated. Both men were valid in their feelings, but there would be no resolve for either of them. Steve was gone, Walker carried the shield and Bucky and Sam were trying their best to navigate a new world.

Sam scoffed, burying the emotions that I knew he was trying to hide from. “You know what, Doc? I don’t have time for this. We have some real serious shit going on. So how about this? I will squash it right now. We go deal with that, and when we’re done, we both can go on separate long vacations and never see each other again.” My eyes widened at how quickly the conversation had escalated. “I like that,” Bucky agreed.

“Great. Well, let’s get to work,” Sam turned to Dr. Raynor, “Thanks, Doc, for making it weird. I feel much better,” he turned to Bucky, “I’ll see you outside.” With a slap to his shoulder, he rose from his seat and was out the door in seconds. There was so much left unresolved that didn’t sit well with me. As Bucky went to stand up, I did too. “Actually, Doctor,” I walked around to table to take Sam’s empty seat, “I’d like to say a few things.” Bucky annoyedly fell back down into his chair and shook his head in irritation. I didn’t particularly care that he didn’t want to speak with me, all he had to do was listen. “I know you and Steve were best friends and I know how much he means to you. But I can’t sit here and watch you berate my brother relentlessly over the fact that he didn’t take up that mantle. It’s easy for someone like Steve to be Captain America without any pushback, but Sam?” I pointed to the closed door, “It’s a whole ‘other ballgame. And while Steve would never have fully understood it, he would have made an effort to. And he wouldn’t be pressuring Sam like you are. You need to drop this and you need to drop it now.” “Let’s get one thing straight,” his razor sharp jaw ticked in anger, “You don’t get to talk about Steve like you knew him or like you understand anything about our friendship. You never met him, you don’t get to speak for him.” He could have never known what button he had just pressed, but my reaction wouldn’t have changed even if he had. I sat up straighter in my chair, my steely eyes boring into him. “I didn’t know Steve? Well, then I guess it was a different Steve Rogers that Sam introduced me to when I came to visit him in D.C. And it must have been a different Steve Rogers that I visited at the Avengers compound when I helped Sam move in,” I leaned forward, the dam in my eyes threatening to break, “It must have been a different Steve Rogers that I ran to when people all around me started turning to dust.”

————

It was pouring rain outside the Avengers compound, the piles of dust that had rested on the ground having long since been washed away. Y/n stormed across the front lawn of the compound to the entrance, she had driven straight through for 20 hours from Delacroix to upstate New York. Getting past security hadn’t been hard once she had said who she needed to speak to and who it regarded.

Her boots squeaked across the floor as she marched through the compound, she’d only been once but she still remembered her way around. She navigated through hallways until she’d found the main room, she only recognized one of the figures that stood hunched over a table in deep discussion. At the sound of her entrance, each one of them turned around. “Y/n…” Steve said in shock, a relieved sigh spilling from his lips, “You’re okay.” “He’s here, right?” she trembled, “He’s in his room or the kitchen? Steve, tell me he’s here.” When Steve didn’t answer and ducked his head, Y/n pushed harder. “Tell me he’s here, Steve.” He looked back up, finally meeting her eyes. “I can’t do that.”

Y/n let the last bit of strength she had slip through her fingers as her soaked form dropped to the floor. Steve was quick to hold her, offering what little comfort he could, knowing that he wasn’t the person she wanted to see most in the world. She sobbed in his arms, the first step in the long process of mourning her brother.

Steve made a true effort to keep in contact with Y/n over the next five years. He flew down to New Orleans to visit every couple months or he offered to fly Y/n up to New York. About two years post Blip were when financial struggles really started to hit Sarah and Y/n’s business and Y/n had to decline each kind offer to meet him on his turf. When she explained why, Steve showed up on her doorstep two days later, ready to stay for the week and help out however he could. It wasn’t hard to see why Sam had bonded so deeply with Steve, he had just as big a heart as her brother.

The day that Sarah and Y/n received the joyous call from Sam that he was back from the dead was the best day of their lives. Y/n called Steve immediately after to tell him the news and thank him for whatever part she had guessed he’d played in reuniting their family. Her calls kept going to voicemail. After Sam’s reunion with his sisters and nephews, he took Y/n aside and handed her an envelope. Inside it was a letter from Steve explaining that he wouldn’t be returning after the restoration of the population. He wished her a good life with her family and that he had valued her friendship and kindness towards him. As brokenhearted as Y/n had been over the loss of her friend, when Sam told her the true reason behind Steve’s sudden disappearance, she was overjoyed that Steve had gotten somebody he loved back too.

Steve Rogers was there for Y/n in some of her darkest hours. They had bonded deeply, their friendship a single ray of light in their then darkened world. To see his shield paraded around by someone who didn’t embody the same qualities and values that he did hurt more than she let on. The world may have accepted John Walker, but he’d never be Captain America in Y/n’s eyes.

————

I had somehow made it through my retelling of my time with Steve without completely breaking down. A river of silent tears streamed down my cheeks but my voice held firm.

Bucky’s harsh stare had diminished significantly the longer I spoke. His plush lips were parted in surprise, words I didn’t care to hear hanging off of them.

“I don’t ever want to hear that I didn’t know Steve Rogers,” my voice threatened to break finally, “You’re not the only one who wants to protect his legacy.” Dr. Raynor had remained so silent while I talked, I’d forgotten she was there until she offered me a tissue. I hastily wiped my cheeks, ducking away from Bucky’s gaze. “Thank you, Doctor,” I said softly as I stood up, “This has been really helpful.” I wrapped my arms tight around my torso and exited the room as quick as I could, making a beeline for the lobby to find Sam. When he spotted me, he stood to attention. “What’s wrong? What happened?” “Nothing,” I shook my head, “I just want to get out of here.” He placed a protective hand on my shoulder as he watched me sniffle the last of my tears away. Bucky joined us seconds later, I couldn’t look directly at him after bearing so much of myself to him. The three of us left the police station in a now familiar silence, each deep in thought about what we’d revealed.

“Well, I feel better,” Sam said as we stepped out into the cool evening air. “I feel awful,” Bucky grumbled.

A siren whooping caught our attention, I wished it hadn’t. There stood Lemar Hoskins and John Walker, waving at us and calling us over. The three of us reluctantly made our way towards them. “Look, if we divide ourselves, we don’t stand a chance, you guys know that.”

Sam rolled his eyes and humored him, “So what do you got?”

“Well, the leader’s name’s Karli Morgenthau,” Walker explained, “We’ve been targeting civilians who’ve been helping Karli move from place to place.” “They geotagged a location, then scrambled the signal,” Hoskins interjected, “But our satellites have found their symbol popping up in various displaced communities all across Central and Eastern Europe.”

“We think she’s taking the medicine she just stole to one of these camps,” Walker finished.

“Well, there are hundreds of those all over the planet since The Blip,” Bucky spoke up across from me, “So I guess you’ll have to look real hard.” Walker smiled, “Good thing I have 20/20 vision, huh?” “Where is she now, Walker? Do you know?” Bucky asked. “No, we don’t know, Bucky,” his voiced raised, highlighting his frustrations, “It’s only a matter of time before we find out.” If I knew anything about Bucky by now, it was that he had no issue with provoking people. “Things are really intense for you, aren’t they, Walker?” I clapped my hands together once, “Okay, if this keeps going, someone’s probably gonna end up back in there behind bars so let’s just settle down.” “Look, Walker’s right,” Sam stepped forward, “It is imperative that we find them and stop them. But you guys have rules of engagement and all kind of authorizations you have to get. We’re free agents. We’re more flexible. So it wouldn’t make sense for us to work with you.”

We didn’t make it further than a three steps when Walker spoke up again. “Miss Y/l/n,” I stopped walking at his call, “You’re an enhanced individual, right?” “I’m what they call a mutant,” I spun on my heels to face him, “But to simplify it, sure, I’m enhanced.” Walker raised a condescending eyebrow, “Are you familiar with the Sokovian Accords?”

My spine stiffened, he was trying to blackmail me without actually saying the words. I was far too familiar with the accords and the ramifications they’d had on the Avengers. They’d sent Steve and Sam on the run for two years. “I think I’ve heard of them, yeah,” I smiled humorlessly. “It clearly states that any enhanced individuals who haven’t signed are not authorized to participate in any national or international conflicts or any missions run by private organizations such as the Avengers,” he gestured towards Sam, “You’re running with an Avenger, aren’t you?” A mirthless chuckle fell from my mouth as I watched him try and intimidate me. “Look, Craptain America,” I took slow and calculated steps towards him, “You can order your partner around or the soldiers that look up to you, but don’t think for one second that you can threaten me and try to pull the same shit the government did with Wanda Maximoff. I’m not going to be told who I can and cannot help.” Walker looked down at me menacingly, resembling a little boy who hadn’t gotten his way. “A word of advice then,” he said, eyes flicking between Sam, Bucky and I, “Stay the hell out of my way.” The juxtaposition between him and Steve had never been more apparent. Here he was daring to threaten me with incarceration followed by an ominous warning when it hadn’t worked. Bucky, Sam and I waited until him and Hoskins had left before heading our own way. “‘Craptain America?’” Sam echoed, slinging an arm around my neck, “I don’t think I’ve ever been prouder of you.” “It was a low blow,” I admitted with a contradictory smirk.

“Someone needed to say it,” Bucky chimed in, hesitantly looking over to me before quickly averting his gaze back to the sidewalk.

“Do I need to be worried that he threatened me with the accords? Are Sarah and I going to have S.H.I.E.L.D showing up on our door or something?” I asked.

“I think he’s just trying to intimidate you, but…” Sam inhaled wearily, “But I’d rather keep you here with us, just to be safe. If anybody were to come, we could protect you.” My smile grew as I looked up at Sam, the parameters of how to keep me safe had changed in my favor. I was almost grateful Walker had threatened me. “I can stay?” “Stop looking so happy about it,” Sam dropped his arm from around me, “This isn’t going to be easy,” he looked to our left to Bucky, “So what are you thinking?”

“Well, I know what we have to do,” he answered, if he had reservations about me sticking around, he was kind enough not to mention them. “When Isaiah said “my people…””

“Oh, don’t take that to heart. That’s not what he meant.”

“No, he meant HYDRA, HYDRA used to be my people.”

Sam thought the answer over for a second, decoding it. “Not a chance,” he scoffed.

“Walker doesn’t have any leads,” Bucky shrugged.

“I know where you’re going with this, no.” “He knows all of HYDRA’s secrets. Don’t you remember Siberia?” “Wait, you’re not talking about…” I sought out Bucky’s eyes that were still dodging mine. I didn’t need a history lesson on who he was referring to. “No. Not him. He’s crazy.” “We don’t exactly have a lot of other options,” Bucky said as if that was justification for what he wanted to do. “So you’re just gonna go sit in a room with this guy?” Sam asked. Bucky hesitated, searching for a more sophisticated answer. “Y-yes.” I may have been allowed to stay, but I knew that I wasn’t experienced enough yet to argue on their level. They knew when and how to make the difficult calls, they could operate in a grey area with little to no issues. All I could do was sit back, be taken along for the ride and tolerate any passengers who got in along the way.

“Okay, then,” Sam finally concurred, “We’re gonna go see Zemo.”

————

I couldn’t sleep.

We were back on the jet speeding back to Germany, this time with an even more sinister problem at hand. I had wanted to come along, I just hadn’t guessed that the reason I’d be allowed to stay would be because of a threat to my safety. All because of my powers. This was the reason why my father had been hellbent on keeping them a secret. I felt in a way that I’d failed him, that somewhere in the afterlife he was disappointed in me for telling the truth, even if I’d done it for the right reasons. Sam was conked out next to me, I envied his military training to get quick sleep wherever he could. I personally felt like I’d injected caffeine into my veins back in Maryland and hadn’t been able to come down since.

“Can’t sleep?” Bucky asked from where he laid on the floor, I thought he’d been unconscious the whole time.

“Can’t imagine why,” I dryly chuckled, “We’re only flying cross country to sit down and meet with one of the world’s most dangerous criminals. Why the floor?” “Oh,” he’d sat up and was looking back down at his lousy makeshift bed, his jacket balled up as a pillow and an itchy blanket, “It’s, uh, hard to explain.”

After a few seconds of near uncomfortable silence, he pushed himself up and made his way to where I sat. I tucked my legs under me to make room for his burly body. He was big enough that with all the space I’d tried to give him, my knees still brushed against his thick thigh. He sighed loudly, giving voice to the divide that if we’d have gone our separate ways, as planned, wouldn’t have mattered. Now that we were going to be working together, we couldn’t ignore what had been said in that interrogation room.

“Listen, about what…happened,” his face contorted in a mild cringe as he played the scene back in his head, “I’m sorry, for what I said.” “You didn’t know,” I offered, picking at a loose thread on my jacket, “I don’t talk about Steve a whole lot except with Sam.” “Still, I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that,” Bucky continued, folding his hands in his lap. “I’ve been rude since we met and that’s not okay. Especially when all you’ve done is try and help.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it,” I leaned my head against the back of my seat, “No permanent damage done.” His thumbs danced together, his brows were knitted in concentration as he prepared to speak. “Can I, uh, ask you about your powers?”

I twisted so that I could properly face him, “Ask away.” “How did they happen?” “I was born with them, actually. I’ve got this thing called the X-gene, it’s supposed to manifest at puberty but for me it activated when I was really young,” I ran a hand through my hair, “Imagine being five years old and having blue come out of your fingers when you were reaching for a juice box.” A miracle occurred and Bucky’s lips actually quirked up in a half smile. It encouraged me to keep talking. “My mom wanted to take me to this school for kids like me but my dad forbade it. He kept saying that it was too dangerous and that somebody could find me. It was like he didn’t realize that it was a refuge for people with powers, not a hunting ground,” I paused, flashing back to arguments between my parents of which one of them actually knew what was best for me. “So instead, I just taught myself how to control them. There were a couple incidents but other than that, I’ve kept them under lock and key for a long time.”

Bucky had remained still and fascinated as I spoke, switching between watching my eyes and my lips. Suddenly it felt like nothing had ever gone on between us. We were just fellow soldiers or co-workers having a conversation outside of work.

“What do they think now? Your parents?” he asked, the ease of the moment slipping away with a simple question. He couldn’t have known the minefield he was stepping into.

“My mom doesn’t know yet that I told Sam,” I sighed deeply, inhaling strength and exhaling bad memories, “And my dad killed himself when I was a kid.” “Oh,” Bucky’s eyebrows lifted, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried into-“

“No, no, it’s fine…” I waved him off, “Whether I want it to be or not, it’s a part of me. He was in the service and when he returned, he was diagnosed with severe PTSD. I was so young when he came home that I don’t really have any memories of him before it happened. He had all the classic symptoms; flashbacks, nightmares, paranoia, fits of anger, at some point he even stopped believing that he was a good father and husband,” I tear slipped down my cheek, “That was around the time it happened. We tried for so long to help him but the trauma consumed him. Every day he was just doing his best to survive himself.” I glanced up at Bucky to find that his eyes were just as watery as mine. It hadn’t dawned on me that I was telling him everything that he already knew about what happened when someone returned from war. He was living it out right now.

“I’m not trying to strike any nerves but…in that session tonight, I saw how much you were holding in. With Sam, with me…” I started, praying I wasn’t going to end up pushing him further away, “I’ve seen what bottling things up and isolating yourself can do to a person and it’s a hell I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. I know you don’t trust me yet but…if you ever do need somebody to talk to…I can’t understand your experiences, but I can recognize some of it.” Bucky truly looked lost, like he’d never been in the position of receiving such an offer. His face, usually so hardened, had softened so much he was almost unrecognizable. And yet there was still some barrier, some pain weaved between the hope and vulnerability that kept him from receiving my kindness with open arms. In the session, the pain I had seen in his eyes reminded me so desperately of that in my father’s eyes. If I didn’t try to help him, that look would haunt me for a long time.

“Thank you,” he finally said, his voice raspy enough to make me shiver. We sat there in the dark, both our walls we’d built around ourselves starting to crumble as we chipped away at one another. There was some feeling I couldn’t put a name to that had settled over us. The eyes that I’d avoided all day were now all I could focus on, digging into the deep blue pools and feeling like I could lay down my sword there. If we were going to get through this mission, we needed to be friends at least and I felt confidant we were on the path.

Bucky eventually cleared his throat, shaking me from my thoughts that he was at the center of. “We’re gonna be to Berlin soon, you should get some sleep.”

Internally, I smiled at the familiarity, it was almost word for word what he’d told me the other night. Only now the hostility had been dropped.

“You need it too,” I replied as he rose and made his way across the plane, “Goodnight, Barnes.” I curled up in a ball near Sam’s feet, praying he didn’t kick me in his sleep. I had just shut my eyes to try when a voice spoke up, “Bucky.”

“Hmm?” I opened one eye to see him lay back down on the floor, attempting to get comfortable.

“Call me Bucky.”

I pursed my lips slightly to decrease the size of my smile, I wasn’t the only one laying down their weapons. “Alright. Goodnight, Bucky.”

----

A/N: There’s something so powerful about name dropping Wanda Maximoff and Y/n having been besties with Steve Rogers lol. Hope you all enjoy, let me know what you thought or if you’d like to be tagged!

Safe Haven taglist: @tanyaherondale @wanniiieeee @asoftie4bucky @edencherries @i-reblog-fics-i-like @ttalisa @gcfty @withyoutilltheendofthismess @rinaispunk @weirdowithnobeardo @felicityofbakerstreet @godlypotterwhodiaries @eternalharry @voguesir @mizz-kraziii @okayline @smellmymisunderstoodfluff @wanderin-stories @nicklet94 @intricate-melody @aesthethickks @stumbleonmywords @simplybarnes @21bruhs @lostinwonderland314 @superbookishhufflepuff

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes imagine #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x platonic!reader #marvel imagine

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