#this list is pretty funny if you imagine the pictures I picked out being the characters' reactions to their placements on the list

[freakoont]

"you have a crush on- WHO?"

Featured content: Bungo Stray Dogs

Summary: BSD characters finding out you have a celebrity crush while you two are dating!

Note: How do they react? {FLUFF / CRACK CONTENT meant for funny purposes}

Characters: GN reader // Atsushi Nakajima, Osamu Dazai, Ranpo Edogawa, Akiko Yosano

Atsushi

I don't think he would mind too much at first. He's like: "oh! Okay! Cool!"

But then when he starts to realize that you might be a... Simp. To put it simple, then he starts getting a little jealous.

He's seeing a bunch of [celebrity cruses name] edits all over your TikTok, or you being crazy enough to get a million dollar ticket to go to their concert to see them

He's like: "WE DON'T HAVE THE MONEY TO AFFORD THIS (Y/N)😭😭"

In the end, he's pretty chill about it, but don't forget the poor boy !! He'll be a sad tiger :(

After awhile, I can see him encouraging this crush of yours in a way? He'd be the type of person to be like, "(Y/N), did you hear that [celebrity crushes name] is staring in the latest movie? Yeah!"

Dazai

Betrayed. He feels utterly betrayed.

"BELLADONNA AM I NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU?"

He's the type of person to pout and get all sappy about it, before he'll pull out the "WELL GUESS WHAT? BEYONCÉ IS WAY HOTTER THAN THEM!" Card

In the inside, I don't think he actually cares.

He probably finds it cute when he sees you reposting a bunch of edits of this person, or saving a bunch of pictures of them, from a movie they were in, into you camera roll

Ranpo

Another one he feels betrayed.

He's definitely going to act cocky and hurt at the same time saying things like, "Ha! Why would you have a crush on them when you already have me? I'm practically a celebrity!"

Ranpo will then start to be pouty and ignore you whenever they're brought up. He's not sharing his snacks with you either!!

He'll act like a total baby but inside... He's also not one to care. He's just trying to get you're attention

Imagine you're both getting ready for bed and Ranpo sees you watching edits of them on your phone... He'll just grab it and throw it on the ground before snuggling up into you like nothing happened. Jealous boy

Yosano

She's going to be the least dramatic one on my list, like she'll be like "cool" and walk off

After some time, she'll start to pick up on anything they've stared in: movies, shows, late night talk shows, concerts. She wants to know more about them.

Yosano honestly just laughs it off when she sees you have a file of pictures, videos of them in camera roll.

But if this obsession got so far and you began to ignore her... She'll definitely get just a littttttle annoyed.

She's going to gift a T-shirt and CD if they're a musician/artist

#anime and manga #x reader #anime #ranpo x reader #dazai x reader #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #atsushi x reader #bsd atsushi #atsushi nakajima #yosano x reader #bsd yosano #bungou stray dogs yosano #ranpo edogawa x reader #ranpo

[axelsagewrites]

Jamie Tartt*Phone Call

Pairing: jamie x f!reader

Day three: phone sex with Jamie Tartt – even though he loved to play the long nights away from you were almost impossible to bare so he often found himself hitting call at late hours of the night

Word count: 1226

Warnings: phone sex, teasing, nude pics/sexting, dom/sub vibes, sex toys, vibrator, nipple play, smut 18+

Masterlist Here

Kinktober List Here

Jamie didn’t know how to handle this. You’d been sending him pictures all weekend. It was the first time you’d not been able to make an away game and Jamie didn’t know what was worse; not being able to touch you or the fact he knew with each snapchat notification you’d sent another, but he couldn’t check. Not yet at least however the moment the match was done, won by Jamies frustration and libido, he soon rushed to his hotel room.

“Whatca think you’re playing at luv?” he said as soon as you picked up on the second ring.

You giggled from the other end of the phone from where you sat in your shared bed which felt empty without him, “Whatever do you mean sweetheart?”

“Think being a tease is so funny huh?” he asked, his voice lower than usual as he collapsed into a chair and began going through the snaps, you’d sent him. Jamie groaned when he saw a pic of you in his jersey from behind, back arched, and ass proudly on display. It wasn’t long till his hand slipped beneath his shorts. “Not gonna be laughing when I get home are you,” he said, palming his boner through his boxers.

“Oh yeah?” you smirked, your bratiness evident even through the phone, “How not?”

“Not gonna be able to laugh when I’m fucking that pretty lil mouth of yours,” Jamie said, slowly jacking off through the boxers, “That’ll wipe the smirk off those pretty lips,” he said, his voice darkening as he slipped his hands under the final layer of fabric.

“Maybe I’d like that,” you teased, your hand slipping under the sheets unbeknownst to a very wound-up Jamie. Your fingers trailing up your wet slit before finding your clit, biting your lip lightly as you rubbed slow circles.

Jamie groaned, his head falling back as he desperately tried to keep his grip on the phone, “Bet you would as well. Shame you’re only all talk on the phone,” he said, and you knew it was true no matter how much you would deny it, “Don’t get all shy now princess,” Jamie said, slowing his speed so he didn’t blow already like a teenage boy. “You touching yourself?” he asked and imagining the way you’d be blushing right now.

“Maybe,” you stuttered out, your hand pausing as Jamies chuckled.

“Good girl,” Jamie said, his voice deep as he sped up his pace yet again, “Wish it was me touching you though. Why don’t you use that little present I got you last week?”

Even without him here you could feel your skin heat up. You quickly found the sleek pink vibe Jamie had got you as a going away present. For a moment your mind wandered, remembering how he had tested it out on you that night, “You still there love?” his voice snapped you from your thoughts.

“Um yeah was just looking. Found it,” you said as you started to turn it on.

“Uhuh,” Jamie chuckled, imagining how you looked right now and grinning when he heard it buzzing, “Now be a good girl and let me hear what it can do,” he said.

You shivered at his words but did as you were told. You whined when you trailed it up your pussy, almost whimpering when it grazed over your clit, “Fuck you sound so good,” Jamie said, his own hand speeding up, “Bet you look even fucking better,”

“Not as good as you,” you said, trying to sound seductive but the whimper only made Jamie laugh.

“Doubt that love,” he said thinking back to all the cute little outfits you had sent him, “Whatcha wearing?” he asked.

You glanced down at your choice of clothing and smiled lightly, “One of your jerseys,” you said, and you could hear him suck in his breath over the phone, “and nothing else,” you added, smirking slightly at the way he groaned.

“Fuck baby you’re killing me here,” Jamie moaned, feeling his cock get even harder if that was at all possible at this point, “Why don’t you turn that thing up yeah? You’re too quiet baby,” he said, his voice low. Without questioning you’d press the button, and a quiet moan left your lips, “Cmon baby,” he said, smirk evident through the phone, “don’t be shy baby, let me hear you,”

His words send shivers up your spin as your legs tightened around the vibe, holding it in place with your thighs so your hand could sneak up your shirt, “Fuck Jamie, I miss you,” you whined, rubbing your hardened nipples and wishing it was his hands instead.

“Miss you too baby,” Jamie said, feeling his orgasm building up after too many pent-up nights, “Miss your fucking body. Those perfect tits of yours. can’t wait to get back to you. can’t wait to fuck you. fuck I’m not even gonna be able to make it to the bedroom,”

“Yeah?” you asked, closing your eyes to imagine everything he was saying.

“Yeah,” he said, doing the same, “Never know might just fuck you right there on the couch,”

“Then what?” you asked.

Jamie groaned, head rolling back as he tried not to finish as he spoke, but little did, he know your own orgasm was soon building as you began to squeeze your nipples, rolling them between your fingers like Jamie liked to do, “Then I’m gonna take you to the bedroom. Tear off whatever skimpy little thing you’re wearing baby. Then fuck you till the sun comes up. You still touching yourself?” Jamie asked, snapping you from your daydream.

“Yeah,” you said, your voice coming out more like a moan as small moans kept escaping your lips, “Think I’m gonna- “you started to say before you were cut off by your own moans.

“Turn it up,” Jamies voice was husk and commanding and when you tried to say you couldn’t he almost snapped, “Do it,” he commanded, “Cmon you’ve been so good for me so far. I know you can do it baby,”

You whimpered, your hand slipping down to press it one last time. “Fuck,” you whined loudly, the vibrations sent shocks down your spine, your body twitching as your orgasm quickly approached.

“That’s it baby,” Jamie coached, his own hand speeding up as he chased his own release. “Fuck you sound so fucking good right now,” he groaned.

“I can’t wait any longer,” you whined, your eyes clenched tightly shut as you felt ready to explode.

“Then don’t,” Jamie husked, his hips bucking up into his own hand, “Let go baby,” he said, and his words toppled you over the edge. You didn’t try hold back the filthy moans leaving your lips as you came from just your boyfriends voice but as you were coming down from your high you heard Jamie reach his, muttering curses over and over until you assumed he was done.

Jamie looked down at the mess he had made, making a mental note to add it to your punishment list for when he got back, “You okay babe?” you asked, slightly panting as you caught your breath.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” Jamie said, making you laugh as you pulled the covers around yourself.

“I love you too baby,” you giggled and for a moment missing him became slightly easier.

A/N: had to repost this since it never uploaded for some reason yesterday so sorry for the wait for anyone following my kinktober

Tags: @angelbarnes-rogers

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt smut #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x y/n #ted lasso #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso smut #ted lasso x reader #jamie tartt fanfic #kinktober

[yandere-writer-momo]

Baki Yandere Head Canons

I love being a writing because I can create anything I want. So I made these for my story.

I decided to make a list on what Yandere types all the characters are. Which include little head canons/ imagines. I made the reader gender neutral for these head canons.

._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._.

Kaoru Hanayama

spoils you so much. This man would buy and do anything for you. And I mean anything 

Extremely possessive. He especially loves buying you choker necklaces made of the most expensive of materials. Pretty collars for his pretty darling. He loves his baby knowing exactly who they belong to 

He’s a stalker too. He’ll have his men keeping an eye on you everywhere and anywhere. He just wants to know what you’re always up to when he can’t see you

Loves giving hickeys. Nothing is sexier to him than his mark being visible on you. It shows everyone else who you belong to. You know you’re getting in his bed all the time if you accept him as your partner anyways. What are you going to do? Say no?

Protective. No one is going to ever harm you. You’re going to be the spouse of Japan’s strongest yakuza. So you’re going to be protected 24/7. Whether you’re surrounded by his men or you’re sitting on his lap for every meeting he has, the world will know you’re his and if they mess with you, they mess with him 

Orochi Katsumi 

Clingy. He wants to spend every waking, breathing moment by your side. Even before the two of you are officially together, he’s still at your house all the time. Laying underneath your bed while you’re fast asleep. He tells himself it’s only normal to want to be with the person you love all the time but deep down he knows it’s wrong with how much he violates his darling’s personal space. He’s so creepy it’s not even funny 

Obsessive. He always wants to take pictures or collect things you dropped. That spoon you used to eat ice cream when he took you out? He still has it. That picture he secretly took of you changing into a karate uniform? He has it in his wallet. Katsumi loves everything about you so he needs to collect everything he can from you. It helps him feel so much closer to you 

Would crawl inside of you if he could. He wants to be as close to you as possible until you’re one 

Delusional as hell. You waved at him once? You think he’s cute. Why else would you acknowledge him? You picked up something he dropped and handed it to him? Your fingers touched his, you want him as much as he wants you. You want to be his partner 

If you’re dating, he posts pictures of you all the time on his social media to the point it’s a fan page of you. He just loves showing his pretty partner off for the world to see that you belong to him

If you’re a child bearing person? He’d baby trap you. In a heart beat. You couldn’t possibly leave him and your baby right? You’re going to be a family. Forever 

He’d marry you the fastest out of all the others

Jack Hanma

Tsundere at first. There’s no way someone like you could be interested in him. He is a monster of a man. But if you persist, he’ll open up to you… a little too much 

Protective. This man is a walking tank. Someone would have to be ballsy to try messing with you in front of him. He’d snap someone’s arm in half if they even so much as touched a hair on your head. You’re his partner and you’re lucky to have such a strong man as your protector 

Would kidnap you if you’re prone to being a danger magnet. You can get hurt if you’re not near anyone or anything that could harm you deep in the forest

Possessive. You’re his. What more do you need to understand? You approached him first. You wanted this. You wanted him. And now you have him and he has you. Who else could you ever need in your life? All you need is Jack. You don’t need family or friends anymore

Baki Hanma

absolutely unhinged (and delusional) after Kozue left him. You tried to help him pick up the pieces but they became twisted when you showed him so much patience and kindness. How could he not love you when you helped him out? How could he not want you? You must want him if you did all of this for him, right?

Clingy. Will constantly ask you if you’re sure you want to be with him. Kozue left him and he would be absolutely shattered if you left him too. But he won’t make the same mistakes as before. You’re never going to leave him. Never.

Will shower you with lots of attention and small gifts. He doesn’t ever want you to feel left out or that you’re not important to him because you are. You’re his whole world besides fighting

Possessive. Don’t look at other people. You don’t need anyone but him. He doesn’t ever want you to have your eye on anyone else. It wouldn’t end well with them

Would also baby trap you if you’re a child bearing person. Something about starting a family and giving that child the wonderful childhood he never got gets him going. You wouldn’t want to be a bad parent like his mom right? You two are going to be such good parents if you just stay together 

Kaiou Retsu

You’re more than likely a capable fighter if you catch his eye. And that’s not a good thing if it’s in a romantic way

He would start off by striking up a friendship with you so he can know everything about you

Manipulative and you would not expect it. He’s a very smart man. He starts by removing the bad influences from your life first but it soon gets to him that no one is good enough to be around you but him. Your friends have turned their backs on you? It’s because they don’t support your fighting lifestyle. Your family stopped speaking to you? They don’t understand you. Don’t worry though, Retsu is here for you. He’s your best friend after all.

After he succeeds in isolating you from everyone, that’s when he sinks his teeth in. He romances you with ease. You’re so lonely now and who better than his arms to fall in? 

Trains you to depend on him for everything. Helping you train, helping you get groceries, helping you clean up your house, and listening to all of your problems. See? He’d be such a good spouse and it would be silly of you not to be devoted to him. Can anyone treat you as good as him? No. They can’t because they’ll never get the chance to.

Kureha Sinogi

Loves a challenge. Especially if you’re a biological anomaly that he can use for his endeavors for medical knowledge

Just let him study you! Why are you being so difficult? He’s heard from people that he’s a very attractive man so why won’t you swoon at him as well?

OBSESSIVE. He needs to know everything about you. Everything. And he’s willing to do anything for that information. Even stalk you.

Is extremely jealous of all the attention you’re getting from everyone else. It isn’t fair. Why can’t you just like him back? He’s the perfect man and he’s better than any fighter out there. Plus he’s a doctor. He has all the tools to take good care of you

Let him worship you. He wants to worship everything about you. Let him touch and see every part of you, nothing would bring him more joy than you surrendering yourself to him

#female reader #yandere #yandere imagine #baki hanma #baki the grappler #jack hanma #kaoru hanayama #katsumi orochi #yandere fic #baki the grappler x reader #grappler baki #baki x reader #baki son of ogre #baki headcanons #smut #baki kaoru hanayama #kaoru Hanayama x reader #Orochi Katsumi x reader #Yandere Baki

[jovenshires]

which smosh duo do you think would make for the funniest freaky friday situation? like if they were to switch bodies for the day?

this ask is SENDING MEEEE okay im like not even like. thinking about this in a ship context alright this is just for pure comedic value. i have a list of some ones i just want us all to think about but i do have my answer for what i believe is the funniest:

kimmy & ian: i just want you to for a moment imagine. either of these people trying to be the other. i think this would be a fucking disaster. ian, trying to be upbeat and positive in a conversation and completely malfunctioning, and kimmy, just keeping her head down and begging for a swift death.

amanda & angela: okay they could impersonate each other pretty well i think, but i think they would get SO annoyed with each other as if it was the other's fault they were in this situation. like just seeing them getting increasingly pissed off and trying to fuck with each other while in each other's bodies... so fucking funny and this is imo the option that makes the Most sense

shayne & chanse: quick wheres the shaynse anon anyway shayne 'w..... werk. werk?' topp and chanse 'im gonna come (on over [to tj maxx])' mccrary would NOT know what to do in each other's bodies. acting like each other? insane. trying to figure out the situation? also insane. chanse is having an absolute mental breakdown ab it i think. anyway i think these two would get Along really well out of all the options but i think it's still fucking funny

spencer & courtney: these two know each other pretty well so it might work out but i still cannot picture them trying to act like each other like... i think courtney would be better off but just picture with me for a moment spencer trying to be courtney. 'y... yeah. hoo hoo.' mans would be LOST in the sauce. they would work best together to get to the route of the problem tho

certified funniest option is jackie/angela & garrett: jackie technically isn't smosh anymore so while she's my top pick i think angela is a CLOSE second. garrett, most awkward man alive, pretending to be either of them... chaos. i think the girls would have fun being garrett but they would also just try to embarrass the hell out of him. they would also both blame him for this, like it's his fault. and are they gonna work together well to get to the route of the problem and switch back? absolutely fucking not. it would be Terrible, and thus the funniest to watch!

#ask #asks #anon #anonymous #idek what to tag this as but this ask made me laugh tysm

[mothwithapencil]

Hi can I just ask for some Ghetsis positivity because I’m sick of everyone around me slandering him

Sorry this is a little late but YES. YES YOU CAN. Big post incoming.

Listen. People hate Ghetsis for completely valid reasons. But people like him, even relate to him, for completely valid reasons too. And I'm sick of people shitting all over Ghetsis and people who like him all the time, even when it's completely uncalled for. I'm sick of having to be "humble" and apologize for liking Ghetsis when introducing myself to people, lest they think I kick puppies and throw babies off cliffs for fun or something. Sick of scrolling his tag and seeing people calling him horrible things or, even worse, targeting his disabilities (physical and mental). Sick of people legitimately claiming he's homophobic, transphobic, even racist just because they don't like him. You do see how that's harmful to people in those groups who like him right. Furthermore, I have the type of RSD where if someone doesn't like a character I like I feel hurt myself. So you can imagine how hellish it is out there. I can't imagine how bad it is for systems with Ghetsis introjects. So for all the completely normal people bearing the curse of simply enjoying a character:

Ghetsis likers! You're valid!

Ghetsis is a very complex, layered character! There's lots to like about him! He's pretty, he's funny, he's tragic, he's a depressed middle aged man.... The list goes on! There's also many valid reasons to relate to him! Ghetsis is implied to have several mental illnesses/disorders/etc that aren't often seen, especially not in a Pokemon game. He's paranoid, he has PTSD, NPD, body dysmorphia, he even shows autistic+adhd traits. He's also a cane user and is popularly interpreted as being an amputee/prosthetic user and having chronic pain from the injuries on his eye/arm/leg/etc. Although him being a villain doesn't do much for "good representation," it's okay for you to see yourself in him! I relate to him for his paranoia, PTSD, and autistic/adhd traits, and that's okay! And some may ask "But N is autistic and likely has PTSD too, why not relate to him instead?" Some may relate to him too! You're allowed to like both of them! Ghetsis and N likers aren't mortal enemies, we're not that different! But not everyone can just choose which characters they attach to. And some may relate to Ghetsis more for a variety of reasons. Ghetsis has a slower, more rough process of healing that may appeal more to some people. You're not obligated to relate to one character over another because the first one isn't a "good guy."

Even if you don't particularly relate to him, you can enjoy him just for the sake of liking him! Some reasons I just think he's a fun character:

His silly "mya-ha-ha-ha!" laugh!!!

The fact that he tries to look intimidating and scary only to call the player in USUM "tiny intruder"

Gee N, your dad is gnc AF!

This picture.

"That blasted Colress! How dare he put his personal intellectual curiosity before our ultimate mission of conquering Unova!" *proceeds to continue spoiling Colress rotten and not doing a single thing to stop him from putting off his work*

The fact that he does so much to make himself seem emotionless but is still clearly very emotional. There's lots of things that confuse and scare him!

His passion! His love for Unovan history and public speaking! (even if he's not the best at delivering them without pacing around and stuttering and trailing off...) (#autism)

His terrible fashion sense. He looks like he fell through a window and got caught on the tapestry. His unexplained love for eye motifs. Me too.

The sheer fact he's such a layered character. There's a lot about Ghetsis that's never directly stated in the games, and much to be picked up from subtle implications. His history as a descendant of fhe Ancient King, his several traumatic life experiences (two separate pokemon attacks, and of course the "memory that has continued to haunt [him]," etc.

His incredibly silly dynamic with Colress. According to pokespe and the RR episode, they've known each other for years, much longer than one would think initially. Trying not to steer too much into antigrav territory, their friendship is unique and funny. They're best friends. They threaten to feed each other to Kyurem daily. As long as they don't get caught, they plan on conquering Unova together. Colress annoys Ghetsis on purpose and Ghetsis responds with ranting about him in private but still raising his paycheck. Chaos duo.

This post is already so long, and I could say more, but to top it off I want to say:

Ghetsis likers who hate N and N likers who hate Ghetsis are the weakest link. As I said earlier, we can enjoy both! Ghetsis enjoyers and N-joyers, we have a lot in common! We both love a very clearly autistic guy with lots of trauma and pretty long hair! It's not a stretch to assume most of us have some parental issues we're coping with by attaching to them! Furthermore, you don't have to "avenge" N by violently hatimg Ghetsis. N still loves his dad, and even if he doesn't have to, he still wants Ghetsis to heal and get better (Cue to... Everything he says to Ghetsis, and even his line when teamed up with him in Pokemas: "I still have hope for you, Ghetsis..."). If he saw the things some of you say about his dad, he'd be horrified. I promise you, saying you want to kick out Ghetsis' cane and take out his other eye just makes you ableist, not a soldier fighting for N's honor. People who like either character aren't at war with each other! I love my N-joyer friends! We can coexist.... Harmonia enjoyers holding hands and singing in a circle...

That's about it! Sorry I'm so passionate about this, I've just seen a ton of hate on Ghetsis lately and I want to combat it. By the way, feel free to send me an ask about any of the stuff I mentioned here!

Please don't interact with this post if you're going to say some mean shit about Ghetsis/his fans or say "he's not actually autistic/disabled etc" "I hate him but..." "You still shouldn't like him because xyz". Please just let this be a happy space for us!!!!

#ask #ableism mention #pokemon #pkmn #pokemon black and white #pokemon bw #pokemon bw2 #pokemon black and white 2 #team plasma #ghetsis #n harmonia

[bonesandthebees]

Don’t mind me being late to the ask party. The internship is mild killing me (though that’s probably more me being sick than the work itself), but it’s a lot of fun. Anyway, asks. I went through and made a little list. Fell free to just pick one or 2 cuz I have a lot.

7, 12, 21, 26 and 34.

Also, 24 cuz I’m totally down for star gazing.

-🌲

hi spruce!! I'm sorry you're sick I hope you feel better soon :( also glad to hear the internship is fun even if it's killing you!!

7. hair-ties or scrunchies?

hair-ties. they're just less obtrusive and don't clash with my outfits. I only use scrunchies to tie my hair back when I'm washing my face or something

12. what kind of day is it?

so far a good one! had a bit of a bad dream but it's one of those bad dreams that's funny to look back on when you wake up and not actually scary. my breakfast was very good too :)

21. something you’ve kept since childhood?

I don't really have anything from my childhood still? I moved a few times as a teen so I got pretty good about throwing out old stuff. besides pictures for the most part. one of the oldest things I still have is probably my nintendo 3DS which I've had since I was 13

26. a scenario that you’ve replayed multiple times?

ok not to be cringe and /parasocial but whenever cc's are in LA and I'm walking my dog outside I regularly imagine running into a cc or two with my dog. I literally just want cc's to meet my boy bc I wanna see their reactions to how big and sweet he is. I specifically wanna see if my dog can stand up on his hind legs and hug ranboo I need to see the height comparison

34. is there a song you know every word to by heart?

many songs. a lot of bastille songs (like skulls, lethargy, good grief, and more) many songs by the national (walk it back, don't swallow the cap, this is the last time, and more), most lovejoy songs probably? I pick up lyrics pretty easily for the most part so yeah there are a lot

ask game!

#ask game #spruce anon

[thotinshield]

I decided to try out @fellowshipofthefics new trope wheel! I spun Criminal AU & Locked in a Room 

** 

Bilbo could not believe his luck. 

Or rather, the lack thereof said luck. 

Honestly, it was a toss up, when Bilbo considered the situation that he was currently in. His eyes followed the movements of the other man as he stalked around the room. Thorin Durinsson, heir to the Durinsson family fortune and, as such, the Arkenstone diamond that supposedly lay somewhere deep in the family vaults. 

Thorin was a strikingly handsome man. Bilbo had noticed that from the moment he had seen the man’s picture in the file that Smaug had handed him. His features were extenuated by the sharpness of his jaw and cheekbones, and the sharp, long nose that drew the eye almost instantly. Despite that, though, the man had a very severe look to him. His blue eyes were pretty, but somewhat cold, if Bilbo had to put a word to it. Once upon a time, Bilbo Baggins had been an aspiring author, and he had retained that desire for flowery words, even now. 

His gaze continued following Thorin as the man turned back to the door and... kicked it. 

Bilbo could not help but stifle a laugh into his hand as the man hissed, withdrawing from the offending door. 

“You find that funny?” He said, whipping towards Bilbo with a scowl. 

“Do you really think kicking the door would have any results?” Bilbo asked, raising a brow. 

“At least I’m trying to do something!”

“Hm,” Bilbo maintained his expression of slight disinterest, crossing his legs. He had taken to a seat as soon as he realized the door would not budge. 

No point, in trying to open it. If Thorin knew who he was, he might have been more worried about trying to get out of the room, but as far as the heir was concerned, Bilbo was nothing more than a guest of someone or other at the gala. 

“Besides,” Bilbo added. “Surely someone will come looking for you, sooner than later, Mr. Durinsson.”

Thorin scowled. 

“I am not some damsel in distress.”

“Clearly,” Bilbo remarked, grinning. He let his eyes wander over the man, enough that Thorin would have to notice the way he did so. 

He did. A blush appeared to be blooming across the man’s cheeks, and, from the peek of his ears through his hair, across them too. 

They were the only two locked in this library, which Bilbo felt was more and more to his benefit. Perhaps Smaug had had someone else here, as well, and they had facilitated a way for Bilbo to be able to corner Thorin without it being outwardly suspicious. No one could blame him for striking up conversation with the only other person he was stuck in a library with. And if it happened to reveal more information about the location of the Arkenstone diamond, or the family vaults, or really, anything of interest when it came to that... Well it would be a fortunate stroke of luck for Bilbo Baggins. 

According to intel, Thorin was notoriously tight-lipped and did not often converse with strangers. 

“What did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t,” Bilbo said, smiling as he stood up. He was a good head shorter than Thorin, so he had to look up at the man regardless. “Bilbo Baggins.”

“Well, you already know who I am...”

“Hard to not know that.” 

Thorin studied him for a moment. “I don’t remember seeing your name on the guest list.”

“Probably not,” Bilbo said, casually. He had moved to a table, picking up one of the books on it. His fingers traced the outline of the title slowly. He didn’t have to look to know there was a trace of panic upon Thorin’s face. “I am here as a plus one, I didn’t sneak in, Mr. Durinsson.”

He glanced towards the man, pleased to see the subtle sign of the man relaxing. “I see. And where is your date?”

“I imagine anywhere else than locked in a library, as it is only the two of us in here, isn’t it?”

Thorin’s lips twitched, as if he were fighting off a smile. 

Something funny warmed in Bilbo’s stomach and his eyes dropped back down to studying the book, feigning interest. That was not good. This man had something that his boss wanted very much, and if Bilbo failed... it wouldn’t be good news for him. 

He wasn’t supposed to be wondering if this was the right course of action. 

#bagginshield #danny writes shit #criminal au #i know this is up to me but i am still like... i hope i did this right lol #i wanted to write more but i didnt want this to turn into a huge thing so i ended it there as it felt... the best spot #but just know that after this they drink whiskey together and get just a little bit tipsy and make out #then bilbo is like. wtf am i doing

[tolbachik]

Hi! This is Cube/🎲! This is my main blog, but I mostly post on @junecast-moonfast nowadays :D

Don’t worry about the delay, this is a very busy time of year! I hope you had a good Christmas ^^

The main universities I’m applying to are Rutgers, Syracuse, and Drexel! I’m also just thinking of just applying all over (as long as the application fees aren’t too high) to see if any schools give me scholarship money lol

Conlangs have always been super interesting to me! I’ve considered trying my hand at making one, but I think I’d need to get a better grasp on linguistics before I do that. Are there any conlangs in particular you’d be interested in taking up? ^^

Pieeogis are great! My mom and I were supposed to homemake them for Christmas, but unfortunately we didn’t get around to it. We still have the filling, so we might make them some time this week :]

Swedish seems like such an interesting language! Also, your reason for learning it is so sweet. It must be a lot of fun to be able to learn a language with a friend who’s a native speaker :D

Arabic is also a fascinating language! The place where I grew up has a pretty large arabic population, so a lot of my friends growing up spoke it. Unfortunately though, I never picked up on any of it.

The math class I got to miss because of choir was applied math, so it was all word problems. In hindsight, it might’ve been an interesting class, but also I know that middle school me would’ve hated it haha

I looked up the erhu, and the sound is so pretty! I imagine that it sounded especially beautiful live, I feel like sometimes music just cannot be entirely captured through video. You can’t really go wrong with string instruments, they all sound so nice :]

I’ll be honest, I never realized how weird our focus on Mars is until you pointed it out! You’re totally right though, focusing on Mars seems entirely arbitrary considering that other planets were also candidates for being habitable in the past. It seems like sometimes in science, we get stuck focusing so hard on one discovery that we lose sight of the bigger picture!

Yeah! I tend to be a bit of a pessimist, but you’re right that a better future is possible if we work together for it! It’s sad to think about what could’ve been, but we also have the chance to make change now!

If I could see any dead musicians live, I think I’d have to go with ELP (Carl Palmer is still alive, but unfortunately the other two members have passed), David Bowie, or David Berman. Keith Emerson was a wonderful showman, and a wonderful musician! Same for David Bowie. David Berman’s music is just so beautiful and hard hitting that I imagine it would’ve been an amazing experience to see him perform live. As for living musicians, I would’ve loved to see Eno on the recent tour he went on, but unfortunately the timing just wasn’t right.

One thing that I found particularly funny about Caligula is that when he invaded Britain he had his soldiers collect sea shells. There was some logic behind why he did this, but I’ve since forgotten it. It’s just a little silly to imagine Roman soldiers just frolicking on the shore and grabbing sea shells haha

Another nautical Caligula fun fact is that he was rumored to have declared war on Poseidon. Assuming the Greco-Roman gods are real, this would’ve been a particularly bad move considering that when Odysseus pissed off Poseidon, it didn’t turn out particularly well for him lol

I’m in a similar boat to you in regards to religion. I haven’t moved out yet, but I’d still consider myself agnostic or an atheist. However, I still celebrate Christmas.

Happy holidays! It was great to be your Santa this year, I’m so glad that we got paired up! I wish you well for the coming year ahead. Take care! :D

- 🎲

Hi!! So, so sorry for how late this. I appreciate your patience! I hope you had a lovely holiday season, and a great start to the new year as well. I hope that this year goes exactly how you want it to! Wow, that's quite the list!! Which one are you hoping to get into the most? Sounds like a real exciting time, I really hope you can get a nice scholarship!! I get that! What sort of conlang do you think you'd try to make, if you had the time and resources to do so? Hmmm... I'm not sure, there are a lot of options out there! I'll have to do a little shopping around, I think. I do kind of have one main for my story, but it's very... Nebulous. I just kind of make it up as I go along, really! Aww, I'm sorry that you guys didn't get to it! Did you end up getting to them, or nah? I hope you did, it sounds like a lot of fun! I think I tried myself once years ago, but I don't think it ended up going very well lol Aww, thank you! I haven't really talked to her much in Swedish, as my grasp is still very tenuous, but it's a fun little goal to work towards! I think I already said it, but I really love how similar it is to English. Language history is always so neat! I agree, Arabic is really neat! Ahh, I get that though. It can be hard keeping track of that sort of stuff sometimes! I had a friend who's mother was Russian growing up, but I couldn't ever remember what any of the words she said meant 😭 Ahh, that's fair! I guess singing really was the best bet then, huh? I hope you were able to enjoy it then, at least! I'm glad you enjoyed it! If you want, I think I might've actually recorded her performance. It was a bit ago, so I'll have to dig through my files to find it, but I can try to share it with you then if you'd like! It was very small; it was just her, a few people from her class, and some of their friends and family. Maybe like, 20 people total! It's a shame; there's so much more out there we could explore! But, such is life. At least we're doing anything at all up there, I gotta count my blessings for that! Thankfully, other space agencies seem to be picking up the slack, and there's been a bit of a shift in our own space agency as well it seems. Here's to hoping for more widespread exploration!

I get that, it's hard looking on the bright side sometimes. There's a lot of pain and suffering in our world, it's not something one can really ignore. But, there are tons of like-minded people out there! We'll get there someday!

That's a great list! I'm sorry you didn't get to see Eno though 😭 Maybe if he tours again you could catch him that time? Either way, I hope you can get to see him & all your other favorites, if possible!

Oh wow, that really is quite the mental image lol I wonder what the reason was? Was it for trading, or perhaps for a source of minerals? Either way, I'd love to see a painting of it; sounds like such a silly thing to do lol

Man, they really did just do anything when it came to it back then, huh? I guess, comparing then to now, we do stuff they might have considered silly or weird as well. Something something constant in human history lol Ahh, I gotcha. Religion can be such a personal thing, so thank you for sharing! If you don't mind me asking, what lead you to where you are today with that? Thank you for being my secret santa, I had such a great time talking with you! So sorry again for the delay with this reply, here. I really appreciate your patience! I hope you've been enjoying your 2024 so far! :)

#asks #srs23 #cube #🎲

[autismgremlin]

I am asking you about your OCs publicly as a show of friendship. I'm going to do one of those DeviantArt style meme thingies: pick 5 of them (I know you have at least five on hand) and assign them a number. Now you've got them numbered...

2 and 4 are having lunch together, how does it go? 3 has to hide a body, who do they go to? 2 has to fake marry 5 for contrived fanfic inheritance/magic reasons, how is the marriage holding up? 4 can invite one person on a fancy trip of your choosing, who are they taking? In which context would 1 and 3 say "we saw you from across the bar and we dig your vibe" to 5? And finally, fuck-marry-kill for 1 with 2-4-5 (3's not in the picture unless you can find another fun option, they can be laughing at/criticising 1's choices as an observer perhaps?)

I picked the numbers at random but I hope this is fun enrichment for you, we should make our OCs interact next time <3

Ok so I used a randomizer thing so 1-5 are Flores Aleksi Edith Clarisse Lewis, Aleksi and Clarisse going along would be very circumstantial, the context is very important - Because Aleksi is Big and likes to make a show of himself, and brag a lot, and that's really absolutely not Clarisse's cup of tea. However he's also a poet and a scholar, and someone who has travelled a bunch, and they could have a lovely conversation if they drop their respective masks. They however probably would not, and Aleksi would think that this lady has a stick up her butt, and Clarisse would think that this man is loud and full of himself. Edith has to hide a body, who does she go to ? Her Beloved of course <3 Buuuuuut I suppose the question implied someone on the list soooo. I actually don't know, because if she were to meet one of the other 4, it would be Clarisse. They're both "proper looking ladies" and all, so that's who she would gravitate towards ; and Clarisse is a very competent and dependable woman, so it would be normal to ask her for help. Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut also it'd be funny if it was Flores. Because 1. Flores lives a very chaotic life and probably has more hiding bodies experience than Clarisse, at least doing it themself. And also it would be so funny to imagine Edith, the disney princess looking girl who is always polite and distinguished being friends with Flores. "Mother, you must meet Flores. Flores, this is my mother. Mother, this is Flores, my nonbinary manwhore bestie. I had to ask them not to sleep with you and/or Father, or they would have tried and likely succeeded." Aleksi has to fake marry Lewis for plot reasons, how is the marriage holding up ? it's not. next question. ...no but for real like, Flores would gladly fakemarry Lewis, Aleksi would gladly real marry Edith, but Aleksi would find nothing of note within Lewis and Lewis would not stand this 8ft tall scaly bastard. The papers are signed, Lewis misty steps out of whatever official building he's in and goes back to Clarisse. Clarisse is inviting Lewis (audience gasps in shock) Flores is playing fuck marry kill with Aleksi Clarisse Lewis :') Well right out the gate, "sorry big boy, you're a bit too square-y for my tastes" Aleksi is "kill". And then the choice is actually pretty easy, because if there are two possible scenarios, F-Lewis M-Clarisse, or F-Clarisse M-Lewis. In both cases they're gonna end up fucking Lewis. But if they're "just" married Clarisse might not wanna, so Kill Aleksi, Fuck Clarisse, Marry Lewis. Edith thinks this is not a very romantic way to look at marriage, and is a little sorry for Aleksi who really got iced immediately

#Clarisse&Lewis #Flores #Edith #Aleksi

[waitimcomingtoo]

Quizzes

Synopsis: you and Tom take a Buzzfeed quiz

Masterlist

“Hi I’m Tom Holland.” Tom smiled at the camera.

“And I’m Y/n L/n.” You greeted. “And today were taking some Marvel quizzes with Buzzfeed.”

“Are you ready, darling?” He asked you as he moved the laptop in between you.

“I’m ready to beat you.” You nodded.

“Is this a competition?” He asked the people behind the camera.

“It is now.” You stated. “Read the first question.”

“Which stone would you want power of?” Tom read off the screen. “I’m not gonna read the names of the stones because I don’t feel like embarrassing myself this early in the day.”

“I don’t actually know what any of them do.” You realized. “Do you know what they do?”

“The tesseract is a cube.” Tom said confidently.

“Yes, but that’s not an action.”

“Then I have no idea what any of them do.” He mumbled. You laughed at him and leaned your elbow on the back of his chair.

“Me either. This is why we both died in Infinity War.” You joked.

“Stop.” He playfully pushed you. “I think the reality stone would be cool because remember the fight between Doctor Strange and Thanos with all the pretty butterflies? We could just do that everyday and, you know, have world peace.”

“You’re right. We’re gonna go with reality stone.” You said to the camera as you clicked that answer.

“Next question.” Tom rubbed his hands together. “Which Disney character would you want on the Avengers?”

“Sorcerer Mickey.” You pointed to the picture of Mickey in his blue wizard hat. “Imagine getting tag teamed by a bunch of adults and a rat.”

“I’ve never seen the movie with this Mickey.” Tom realized. “I don’t remember this outfit.”

“I think it’s called Anastasia.” You told him.

“No, that’s a Broadway show.” Tom shook his head. “This is called Euthanasia.”

“It’s called Fantasia.” Someone behind the camera told you, making you and Tom exchange a knowing look.

“Oh.” You laughed. “I’m too embarrassed to pick sorcerer Mickey now so let’s go with the Genie. I think magic would be useful.”

“Genie.” Tom repeated as he clicked on it. “Next. Which DC character could defeat Thanos?”

“Let’s see them defeat the box office first.” You mumbled under your breath.

“You can’t say that.” Tom laughed in shock.

“But I did.” You shrugged. “What are they gonna do about it? They can’t even CGI a mustache.”

“Okay.” Toms laughed died down. “Next question. How would your closest friends describe you?”

“I don’t know.” You thought about it. “How would you describe me?”

“Beautiful.” Tom said simply.

“Fair enough.” You laughed shyly. “I mean, fair enough.”

“Caring, loyal, creative, funny, kind, successful.” Tom read off the options. “I mean, you’re all of these things. But when I think of you…”

Tom stopped in the middle of his sentence as a wide smile broke out on his face.

“Why are you smiling?” You asked him.

“Because I’m thinking of you.” He told you.

“Aw. Is disgusting an option?” You asked sweetly.

“Shut up.” He pushed you again. “I’m choosing funny.”

“Good choice.” You nodded and went to the nest question.

“Which dynamic duo is your favorite?” Tom read off the screen.

“I was thinking Thor and Loki.” You decided after surveying the options.

“Me too.” Tom agreed. “But I don’t really know what dynamic means, if I’m honest.”

“Me either.” You realized. “Let’s just move on. Which weird or unconventional superpower would you want to possess?”

“I think to read and instantly memorize.” Tom answered. “That would help with scripts.”

“When I worked in retail, costumers would have to punch in their social security number if they forgot their store card and I would see it on my screen.” You told Tom with a coy smile.

“Oh?” He laughed in confusion.

“I could commit in with theft in bulk.” You stated. “I’d just memorize all their social security numbers without even trying.”

“Oh my God.” He groaned and went to the next question.

“Who’s origin story is your personal favorite?” You read out loud.

“The way that neither of us are listed as an option.” Tom mumbled under his breath when he saw the choices.

“Your origin wasn’t even in your movie.” You laughed. “They jumped right in and said y’all know the drill. Dead uncle, no more glasses, and instant abs.”

“I’m torn because Steven Strange’s is about healing and putting yourself back together and Steve Rogers is about perseverance and determination.” Tom sighed as he tried to decide.

“And being skinny.” You winked at the camera.

“I’m also leaning towards Carol Danvers because women.” Tom ignored you.

“I’m gonna pick Steve because his story is sweet.” You decided and clicked on the option.

“And finally, what would you say is your personal character flaw?”

“I don’t know. I’m perfect.” Tom said smugly.

“Is being a massive liar an option?” You asked the camera crew.

“Leave me alone.” He nudged your side. “I would say reckless. Between the two of us, there are four brain cells and two of them are playing Uno.”

“I agree.” You chuckled. “Pick that one.”

Tom clicked the option and it brought you to the end of the quiz.

“We made it! We survived!” You cheered as you turned to high five him. Tom high fived both your hands and before slinging an arm around your shoulder.

“Thank you for having us Buzzfeed.” He said into the camera. “I haven’t been Y/n L/n.”

“And I haven’t been Tom Holland.” You smiled. “Until next time.”

Tag List 🏷

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#tom holland x reader #tom holland x actress!reader #tom holland x famous!reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland blurb #tom holland fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #tom holland x you

[harrys-titties]

Y/N and Harry hate each other, until they don’t. 

29K+

Warnings: Asshole Harry, A LOT of swearing (I’m sorry,) mentions of anxiety, a questionable game of drink or truth & smut 

(A/N FINALLY I FINISHED!!  Blood, sweat and tears has been put into this one, so I hope you all enjoy! Love you all <3 Also you may have to open in your web browser bc she is big af xx) 

-masterlist-

It wasn't that Y/N didn't like Harry, in all honesty, she didn't know him well enough to come to that conclusion. But from what she'd seen so far, she wasn't too impressed. She had never found it too challenging to make new friends, often finding herself able to get along with even the oddest of characters, but with Harry, it was a different story.

Perhaps if they weren’t forced to stay in the same house during quarantine, having to spend days on end with only each other and their housemates to cure their boredom, things would be different. Maybe, just maybe Harry wouldn’t have come across as so disagreeable and overbearing. 

However, at this rate, Y/N was led to believe it was just who he was. An asshole who had somehow tricked the entire planet into believing he was the epitome of the ‘boy next door’ stereotype. 

Sarah, Y/N’s cousin, had called her sometime around July, asking her if she wanted to quarantine with her, her boyfriend, Mitch and a few mates rather than alone in her somewhat dingy apartment. Y/N had immediately jumped at the opportunity. Quarantining by herself had already proved to be somewhat tricky and incredibly depressing. While she loved her charming little abode, she was certainly not prepared to spend the next few months stuck inside it, alone, watching ‘Friends’ reruns with a bottle of wine and only her three potted cacti to keep her company. 

So, naturally, that led her to the doorstep of Sarah and Mitch's huge shared house with butterflies in her stomach, imagining what her new housemates would be like. 

Sarah had told Y/N all about Mitch, Jeff and Harry, exclaiming how funny, kind and welcoming they would be, and well, Y/N was excited, she needed some new friends. After her last break up about a year ago, had lost her a boyfriend and subsequently the mutual friends of his that she thought had become hers too, she felt slightly lonely. For Y/N the chance to cure isolation boredom blues and make some new friends was an offer she wouldn't dream of refusing. 

Upon arrival, Y/N noticed that Sarah's description fit Jeff and Mitch to a tee, but Harry? Well, he barely managed to squeeze into it. When she'd walked through the door, Mitch had immediately offered to take her bags and even offered her some of his favourite tea to help her relax after her relatively stressful journey. Jeff gave her a huge hug and asked what her favourite snacks were so he could add them to the shopping list. And Harry? He sat in silence with his head practically glued to his phone, hardly even sparing a glance in her direction. 

Y/N didn't let this discourage her. She prided herself on being friendly and often easy to get along with and so approached him readily. However, greeting him with a cheerful, "it's nice to meet you!" and her renowned smile had only earned her a grunt and a disinterested look. Maybe he was just having a bad day?

On the drive to Sarah’s house, Y/N had been thinking about how exciting it was to be able to meet him. While she’d never been an avid fan of his music, she wasn’t blind to the enormous impact he had on the industry. He seemed kind and beyond charming, and well, Y/N had a working pair of eyes, she knew how handsome he was. She had only ever heard good things and was excited to get to know the man who had made her cousin's dreams come true. 

However, Harry's blase and borderline rude personality really rubbed her the wrong way. Y/N could understand having a rough day, even she could get a bit grumpy the days leading up to her period, but Harry's impertinence surpassed a simple 'bad day' or two. He was impossible! He would hardly even acknowledge her existence, and on the rare occasion when he did, he was insolent and passive-aggressive. He would nitpick everything Y/N did, from the way she would dress to something as simple as how much soy sauce she had on her sushi! Y/N didn't know how she would survive another week with him, let alone the whole of isolation. 

Maybe loneliness, copious amounts of alcohol and friends reruns would’ve been the better option. 

——

It wasn't that Harry didn't like Y/N, in all honesty, he didn't know her well enough to come to that conclusion. There was just something about her that grated on his nerves. It could possibly be the fact that Sarah had insisted she was his type before he'd even met her. While Harry had countered, unless she looked exactly like the ex he was still very much pining over he doubted it to be true, Sarah had insisted. She showed him picture after picture from their trip to Europe together, pointing out how pretty Y/N's hair looked, or how dazzling her smile was.

While there was a resemblance to the girl on his mind, Harry doubted it was enough to remind him of the heartbreak she had instilled upon him. Alas, Harry was wrong. When Y/N had floated through the door without a care in the world, Harry had frozen. While Y/N did kind of resemble his past girlfriend Elle, it was the way she acted that frustrated Harry more. She had the same air about her, carried herself in the same way that Elle did, with humble confidence and poise.  

Harry hated it. The more he got to know Y/N, the more he realised that she was somehow simultaneously similar and completely different from the girl he was still in love with, and he hated it. She was a constant reminder of what he could no longer have, and he didn't know if he wished Y/N were more like Elle so he could have a part of her back, or if he wished she was a completely different person altogether.

Either way, Harry could hardly hold in the frustration he felt around her, snapping at anything she said and nit-picking her every move. 

While he knew he was acting unreasonably, he barely had a cause to stop it. 

——

Y/N was usually self-confident and relatively sure of herself, but she was also stubborn, and for some reason was bothered by Harry's opinion of her more than she cared to admit. 

So, over the first few days of her staying at the house, Y/N had tried her hardest to get Harry to like her, but her endeavours only seemed to further annoy him. She baked him carrot cake because she'd heard it was his favourite, but with a screwed up nose, Harry had swiped his finger through the icing to taste it and grumbled, "way too sweet," before retreating back to his room. Y/N was embarrassed as Sarah had given her a sympathetic look and insisted "everyone else will love it!" 

When doing her washing, she added Harry's whites with hers and even went so far as to dry and fold them too. But when she woke the next day, the clothes had been taken from the laundry, and Y/N was not given a spare glance.

 Harry had insisted they watch a horror movie during their weekly movie night, and Y/N didn't say a word of opposition, even though she knew she would have nightmares that night. Sarah had even tried to say something on her behalf, but Y/N quickly hushed her, not wanting to cause a scene and have Harry hate her even more than he already did. 

But Y/N's quick agreeance to watch 'Halloween' disagreed with her a lot more than she thought it would. She had hardly slept at all, jumping at the smallest of sounds and debating the probability of a murderous man being able to break into the house. When she turns again for what seemed like the fiftieth time that night, only to be met with the glaring '3:30' from the mickey mouse alarm clock she had nearly forgotten to pack, she gives up. 

In an attempt to calm herself down from the numerous haunting images flashing through her mind, Y/N begins her trek to the kitchen. A cool glass of water and perhaps one of the cupcakes Sarah and herself had baked the day before, would surely put her overworked mind at ease. 

As Y/N begins to walk down the stairs, she can't help but imagine behind every door a murderer with a knife, that each step in the pitch black was one closer to her death. The eerie silence of the house full of sleeping people only made her feel worse. 

Scolding herself for ever agreeing to watch the stupid movie in the first place, she turns around to flick on the lights to the hallway and stairway. Feeling slightly more comfortable now that she could see, she walked downstairs only to repeat the process in the kitchen, dining room and living room until the whole house, bar upstairs, was flooded with light.

Standing in the fully lit kitchen with a mug of hot chocolate she had found in the cupboard and munching away at the sweet treat, Y/N finally begins to feel somewhat safe. That is until a dark figure suddenly emerges from the hallway.

 "Harry! What the fuck? You scared the shit out of me," she exclaims while clutching at her rapidly beating chest. With his chestnut curls in a tangled heap upon his head, one sock on and clad in only a white shirt and boxers, he looks slightly worse for wear. "What the fuck are you doing, making such a racket at four in the fucking morning?" His voice sounds strained as if he'd just woken up and his face is screwed in annoyance as he points at the provincial-style clock hanging on the wall for emphasis. 

Y/N hesitates, she knew telling Harry his movie choice had kept her awake would not end well, "I- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you or anything." At this, he scoffs, "didn't mean to wake me, huh? Turning on every fuckin’ light and slammin’ cupboards will usually do that to a person." 

Now Harry knows he's being mean, can hear the way his accent thickens with annoyance and can see how she flinches with every raised decibel, and it makes him pause some. He realises there’s more than likely a reasonable explanation as to why she’s awake at such an hour. He's a dick, but he's not a bloody monster, and as he sees her eyes well up with tears, he decides his anger can be put on the backburner.

 "Why are you even awake?" At the softened tone in his voice, Y/N seems to visibly relax some but still remains tense. "I, um, I really hate horror movies, and I was scared, and I couldn't sleep." He sighs, and his voice lowers even more, "Is that why all the lights are on?" She nod's sheepishly, "why didn't you say anythin'? You were the first to bloody agree to watch the movie." 

"You already hate me enough, I didn't want to give you another reason!" Harry's not sure why his chest slightly aches at that, because if he's honest, she's right, he doesn't really like her at all. As soon as she’d walked through the door and up the stairs to get sorted in her new room, he'd approached Mitch. He'd even made a proper scene, asking why she had to quarantine with them. Mitch had defended her, pointing out that everyone else liked her perfectly fine so far, which Harry supposes was a part of his problem with her. He had made sure she knew of his distaste too, barely even paying her mind, and only doing so to mock her. 

So why it felt like his heart was cracking just slightly, he'll never know, but it does lead him to walk towards her slowly, "I can't really sleep either, did you want to watch tv with me until you can?" If Harry was truthful, he'd actually been sleeping like a baby before he heard the cupboard doors shut slightly above acceptable volume considering the time. However, the way her mouth pouted somewhat, and her eyes misted as she acknowledged his dislike for her made him feel awful. 

So as he sits on the couch with her, now donned with his own steaming cup of hot chocolate, he leaves the lights on and gives her his favourite blanket to wrap herself in. He sits on the opposite side of the couch and tries his hardest not to fall asleep, so Y/N could feel somewhat protected.

After a few episodes of 'SpongeBob' had played he looks over to the other side of the sofa and sees Y/N fast asleep, snoring with her head tilted at a slightly unnatural angle. He can't help the smile that finds its way onto his face, as he turns off the television and settles himself further into the couch to hopefully catch a few hours of sleep too. 

——

To say Y/N is confused would be an understatement. While she wasn't expecting to wake up to Harry presenting a friendship bracelet and a new found love for her, she was expecting him to at least stop hating her.

She was surprised at his kindness last night. She knows Harry gave her his favourite blanket. Jeff was always griping on movie nights because Harry manages to nab it before Jeff has the chance and although he claimed he couldn't sleep, Harry's croaky voice and dishevelled hair led her to believe he was in fact lying.

She definitely hadn't expected him to offer to watch cartoons with her. She also definitely had not expected to wake in the middle of the night to find herself pressed against him with his arms tightly wrapped around her.

 Y/N briefly considered moving back to her side of the couch, but if she was being entirely truthful, she missed cuddling. It was one of her favourite things about being in a relationship, and ever since her last one had crashed and burned, she missed the simple feeling of being held. So in her sleep-muddled state, she decided to stay put and hope Harry was as avid a cuddler as she was.  

To be honest, after all that, she thought he'd at least start to acknowledge her existence, or at least not act as if it was the bane of his. However, when Y/N awakes the next day, Harry is in the kitchen with Jeff and Sarah, debating on where to start their tour when quarantine ends. He moves animatedly and is clearly laughing and joking about as he usually does with the other occupants of the house. But when she enters, he instantly stops talking and instead puts his head down, seemingly very focused on shovelling his pancakes into his mouth. 

Y/N hopes, with every part of her being, that he didn't wake up feeling disgusted by her unconscious affection, but she knew it was a real possibility. And suddenly it feels like she had taken one step forward and two giant steps back.

So yes, Y/N is understandably confused. 

——

When Harry had woken up overheated, and with a stifling sense of claustrophobia, he was understandably confused. As he opens his eyes, he recognises the living room's shaggy carpet and cream walls; however, it takes him a few seconds to process why he was actually here rather than in his own bedroom.

The pressure against his chest causes him to startle some, and when he looks down to see Y/N still huddled under his favourite blanket but now pressed against him rather than the opposite end of the couch, the feeling doesn't fade but instead escalates.

How did they end up in this position? Harry knew he was a cuddler, any past lover would be able to tell you that, but that was usually with people he... liked? Why the fuck was she on top of him?

He can just see the side of her face, while the other looks to be uncomfortably pressed against him. Her hair no longer resembles the bun she usually goes to sleep with but a nest upon her head, and what looks like dried drool is smeared across the corner of her rosy lips. 

Harry can admit she's cute. In a puppy that's just been kicked kind of way. He feels compelled to brush the strands of hair away from her face and wipe the spit away with the hem of his shirt, but Y/N moving in her sleep draws his focus away. He sees his lanky legs tangled with hers and for the first time notices his arms also wrapped around her, keeping her close. 

While a half-asleep Y/N is clearly trying to change her position, his gangly limbs keep her from doing so. And Harry panics. He should not be cuddling with Y/N of all people. Instantly and as gently as possible, he rolls her off him and stands from the couch, only to hear a muffled groan of opposition from the sleeping girl. 

Harry was confused, to say the least. He knows it's not a big deal. Two, friends? No. Acquaintances? Hm nope, 'roommates?'... had fallen asleep next to each other on the couch and woken up slightly tangled. It wouldn't be that much of an issue if the last person Harry had woken up next to hadn't been the ex-girlfriend he was very much still broken-hearted because of. Don't get him wrong, it had felt nice to be close to someone again, but perhaps that's the reason why Harry begins to panic even more. 

So, Harry folds up the blanket he had been using, walks to the toilet and convinces himself not to think of it again. And it's also for this reason, that Harry can't seem to look Y/N in the eye as she walks into the kitchen. He knows she's looking at him in confusion, and he feels slightly guilty, but what was he supposed to do? Greet her with a cuddle and ask if she'd slept as well as he did? No, Harry would act like nothing had happened, and pray that a problem wouldn't arise from that.

But of course, Harry should have known better. 

——

Y/N was quite the baker. She had worked a few summers in her Aunties little bakery and had loved it, but even with her passion and keen eye for icing cakes, there was only so much sweet treat making she could do. She was more participating in copious amounts of isolation baking to please poor Sarah, who was struggling with boredom, and who also happened to love sweets. 

So, whenever Sarah would run into her room with a new suggestion, or send her a link to a 'totally awesome' muffin recipe, Y/N would simply bite her tongue and help gather the ingredients. They had already managed to make cupcakes, banana bread, chocolate chip cookies and cheesecake. So when a new recipe comes through while Y/N reads her book in front of the pool, she wonders what other baked goods could even possibly exist for them to make. 

Alas, macarons. Y/N sighed and walked to the kitchen, where she knew Sarah would be preparing their ingredients. "Hey bug, ready to bake the best macarons ever?" On the inside, Y/N started dramatically weeping, but on the outside, she exclaims, "sure am! These might be a bit more difficult than anything we've tried though." Sarah scoffs, "oh please, we're up for the challenge." 

It's then Y/N notices Harry sitting at the island bench, and he catches her staring, "what? 'M bored." She only nods in response, not really one for conflict. "Are you helping us cook? We could use an extra hand." Y/N kind of hopes he'd say yes, maybe a bit of cooperative, team bonding would mend whatever weird rift they had between them. 

However, Harry screws up his nose at her suggestion as if what she had said was the stupidest thing he'd ever heard. Before he has the chance to snarkily reply to her, Sarah butts in, "Harry actually used to be a baker! Didn't you H." Harry can see Y/N's eyes light up and knows that whatever comes out of her mouth next, he was more than likely going to despise. "I used to work in a bakery too!"

Now, if there was an award for sarcasm, Y/N's sure Harry would probably win it. When he pulls his lips into an over-exaggerated smile and says, "twinnies!" with such derision that it burns, Y/N's smile falls. She didn't know what his problem was. Had it really bothered him that much that they'd accidentally cuddled in their sleep? Who had hurt the poor guy so much that a simple night-time spoon was the be-all or end-all? 

She really hadn't meant it, guessed she'd missed sleeping next to a warm body and naturally gravitated towards him. She liked a good cuddle, for fuck's sake, who didn't? If she could turn back time, she would've stayed in bed, wracked with fear if it meant she wouldn't have to deal with Harry's bullshit.

Rather than responding, Y/N puts her head down and begins to read the instructions Sarah had helpfully printed out. Harry is about to make a snide comment, praying that her baking abilities have improved since the carrot cake she had attempted to make, but he gets distracted by the way the afternoon sun is hitting her skin. 

Was Y/N kind of attractive? For the first time, he notices that while she had similar features to his ex, Y/N was pretty on her own accord. 

While often messy, her hair looked so soft, and her eyes were wide and held a sense of innocence. If Harry looked close enough, he could see the tiny acne spots she hadn't bothered to cover and the small bags under her eyes. He briefly wonders if she'd been getting enough sleep and if he had any of the 'sleepy-time' tea left that had worked so well for him before he realises what he was thinking. 

This was Y/N, not Elle, not some chick he'd been fucking, it was Y/N. Maybe he was just confused about his feelings. That was the first time he'd slept next to someone in a while. And well, Y/N was an admittedly pretty girl, and Harry was an admittedly lonely guy who was attracted to pretty girls…

Yeh, there was nothing for him to worry about. 

Y/N mistakes Harry's staring as a glare and does her best to avoid looking at him. She didn't want him to see the well of tears in her eyes and give him the satisfaction. By now, she knew he had meant to upset her, and he had succeeded. 

It was a shame, he really was an attractive guy. Y/N is fully aware that if she'd seen him at a bar, acting the way he did with Sarah and the guys, she'd be instantly in love. She imagines him at school years ago, he probably would’ve been the guy that everyone developed a crush on at least once, boys and girls alike, and has no doubt he probably knew it too. 

Unfortunately, Y/N had not met him in a way akin to a romantic novel. No, she only knew him as an ass who tended to treat her like the dirt stuck to the treads of his overpriced shoes. The only thing Y/N could do was just try her best to ignore him. 

——

As it turns out, Y/N was right, macarons were a lot harder than anything Sarah, and she had previously tried to make. Y/N was tired, frustrated and too sweaty for simply baking glorified cookies. The macarons had taken so long to make, and worst of all, the first batch had come out of the oven flat and stiff as a board. Sarah had pulled out the tray as Y/N was beginning to wash the bowls with a hesitant, "are they supposed to be flat?" 

Turns out they were not supposed to be flat at all. Y/N tried to hide her distaste as she chewed through one of the shells, but when she saw Sarah's face mirroring hers, she giggled. Harry, who had been sitting at the bench, completing a crossword puzzle, also laughed, "guess you aren't as good at baking as you thought you were." 

Y/N would be offended, but notices he's mainly talking to Sarah, and his jesting tone suggests he's not even acknowledging her. "Here, try one. They aren't that bad," Sarah hands him one and he huffs before taking a bite, "better not poison me. You'll have millions of fans to answer to." 

As he chews, it’s apparent that he's not particularly enjoying it. After a hefty swallow, he tugs at his bottom lip with his thumb and forefinger as if in deep thought. "These are single-handedly the worst macarons I've ever had in my entire life. And I say that with absolute confidence." 

While Sarah scoffs and laughs, admonishing Harry with a gentle slap on his arm, Y/N is entirely distracted. She had never seen anyone else with the same habit as her ex. Ben would tug at his bottom lip when deep in thought, and there Harry was, exhibiting the exact same habit. She was astonished, and she hates to admit it, but small butterflies form in the pit of her stomach. She always had, for some unknown reason found it an oddly attractive trait.

While others might be attracted to muscles or deep dimples, Y/N found the little quirks of others most captivating. She loved the drunken ramblings and the uncontrollable tears during sad films. She loved watching people discover their favourite song and the way they would sing under their breath. She loved the unmade beds, dust-covered books, and overwatered plants. She loved the way people would stutter on certain words or adopt weird nicknames they had heard in their favourite movies. She loved pet peeves and the stories behind them and the routines that they followed. Y/N had always loved people. She loved the things that made individuals uniquely them, and this quirk that Harry shared with Ben, was no different. 

If he notices her staring, he doesn't draw attention to it, only continues to banter with Sarah, while Y/N stands in the middle of the kitchen, lost in thought. It’s Sarah's voice that draws her out of her reverie, "c'mon Y/N let's try another batch. I want to surprise Mitch for movie night, he loves these things."

——

This movie-night, Y/N wanted to make sure she would be able to sleep at the end of it, and for that reason, horror movies were off the table- much to Harry's dismay. Sarah, Mitch and Jeff, readily agreed, and after some pushing from Jeff and the girls, everyone agreed to watch a rom-com. The question was which one. 

As Sarah scrolls through the movie selections, 'Clueless' catches Y/N’s eye, and she immediately yells out the suggestion with vivid excitement and is promptly met with... silence. "Guys? Clueless is icon-" Y/N starts, only to be interrupted by none other than Harry, "'s a shit movie, we aren't watching it." Before Y/N can object, Sarah comes to her defence, "oi H, don't be an asshole. We know it was Elle's favourite, don't need to take it out on poor Y/N."

While Y/N prides herself on being understanding and kind, she knows she can be a tad oblivious to what's going on around her at times. She had tried to pick up on it when she noticed it and improve because it had indeed gotten her into some awful situations. And if only Y/N had paid a bit more attention to the situation around her, she may not have spat out her next words. She may have noticed Harry's misty eyes and pursed lips, Sarah's empathetic gaze towards him, Mitch's awkward glance in Harry's direction and Jeff's head buried in his hands. Alas, she didn't.

 "Who's Elle?"  

Silence. Y/N is met with nothing but silence. After a while, she can vaguely hear Jeff letting out the breath of air he had clearly been holding in, and Mitch's mumbled "oh god" under his breath, but she was much too focused on Harry's gaze that was now piercing into hers. "None of your business," he gets out through gritted teeth. 

Y/N is somewhat taken aback, she can clearly see that whoever Elle was, she was a sensitive topic for Harry and immediately tries to backtrack. "Oh, um I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" For the second time that night, Harry interrupts her. "Does anyone want popcorn? We forgot to get some." He stands from the couch, now avoiding Y/N's gaze altogether, and she looks around the room to try and gauge the situation. 

The only one in the room paying her any notice is Sarah, who shares the same empathetic look with her that she had given Harry not two minutes ago. Sarah mouths ‘ex-girlfriend' at Y/N, and it's safe to say she feels awful. While she didn't particularly like Harry, she would never intentionally hurt anyone, and she makes the snap decision to follow him, in order to apologise to him properly. 

When she enters the kitchen, Harry is leaning on the counter facing away from her. His shoulders seem tense, and his hair is dishevelled as if he'd been continuously running his fingers through it.

"Harry, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to bring up such a sensitive topic." At her voice, Harry's shoulders seem to hunch further, and he turns around while taking a deep breath, "just drop it yeah? Think you've done enough." 

Y/N didn't think that was fair. She really hadn't known, and if she had, she wouldn't have even thought of mentioning it. "I didn't know Harry. I won't bring her up again." Y/N had grown familiar with the way Harry's accent thickened sometimes. It happened when he was tired or bored. It was most frequently when he was angry, which seemed to be a common occurrence when she was concerned, and now was no exception. "No shit, stop stickin' your nose into other people's business." 

In any other circumstance, Harry might have noticed the way Y/N's eyes instantly started to water, or how she'd retreated and hunched slightly into herself in submission. Harry had noted she was a sensitive little thing, and while he often tried to get on her nerves, when he saw her nose twitch and eyes mist up, he knew to back off. But currently, he could only see red, and the fact Y/N had made no attempt to move, made his fury run even more rampant through his veins. “Fuck off Y/N, I'm not kiddin'. Go back to the living room." 

"But Harry, I-" Y/N attempts to get out, but Harry's raised voice causes her to immediately stop. "I said, fuck off!" At that, Y/N snaps. For weeks, she had been doing nothing but try to please Harry, but there was just no pleasing him. He was arrogant, apathetic to everyone around him, pretentious, stubborn and worst of all, just plain rude. 

"You're a real asshole, you know that. I understand you're upset, and I'm sorry I caused it, but you don't need to treat me like shit,” she sniffles. “I have tried so fucking hard to get on your good side, but I'm done trying. It's time for you to wake up and realise not everyone is going to hurt you like precious Elle clearly did." Y/N expects Harry to do many different things, she prepares for him to begin screaming, perhaps start crying? She briefly wonders if he would go so far as to push her out of the way and storm out of the room. 

Although, one prospect she didn’t consider was for him to start laughing. "Oh Jesus pet, you think you're that special? You think you can even begin to be compared to her? Think I'm scared you'll.. what? Break my heart?" As he continued to speak, the sound of his voice grew as did his rage. The veins on the side of his neck only became more pronounced, and the crease in his brow caused his whole face to contort. 

The increase in volume had caused an audience to gather. Jeff, Sarah and Mitch stand in the kitchen entrance helplessly watching the two rip into each other. Mitch is the first to step in, "Harry c'mon, that's enough." 

"Fuck off Mitch, stay out of it." He turns back to Y/N, "please, sweetheart, save yourself the heartbreak. Have you ever considered that maybe I just don't like you? You're fucking annoying, and your pathetic attempts to get me to like you are even more so. What were you hoping would come from it? I'd ignore the fact you grate on my nerves 24/7 and pay you a bit of attention? Maybe even get you off once or twice? Is that it?"

Sarah is next to attempt to break up the fight, "Y/N don't bother, Harry's just upset."

It took a lot to get Y/N mad. She was usually calm, maybe a bit emotional, but very rarely did she raise her voice. But Harry, with his constant grouching and aggressive nature, had pushed her well and truly past that point. "Save it, Sarah. Are you fucking serious Harry? I was just trying to be a nice person. I'm not sure how to tell you this, but not everybody is trying to get into your pants. Guess you'd be so used to girls throwing themselves at you until they have a fucking conversation with you and see what a dick you actually are." 

He snarls at that, "trust me pet, they're proper gaggin' for it." Y/N scrunches her nose in disgust, "You're fucking disgus-" The quietest of the group is the next to interrupt. "Oh for fucks sake, both of you, shut up!" 

Jeff was usually quietly spoken and hardly ever lost his temper, he was similar to Y/N in that regard. As Harry's manager, he had formed a close relationship with the green-eyed boy over the past few years, and not once had Harry ever heard Jeff raise his voice. So when Jeff yells, even Harry knows it's time to back off. He stays quiet and instead gives Y/N one last lingering glare before retreating upstairs to the safety of his room. 

Y/N can't help but burst into tears. She hated conflict, and would usually avoid it at all costs, but Harry deserved to be put in his place a bit. Immediately, Sarah is at her side, attempting to console her, but it only makes her cry harder. Y/N feels pathetic, she hated crying in front of people, and Jeff and Mitch's lost stares were not helping the situation. Sarah follows Y/N's eye line, "can you both get out for a bit?" Both boys all but run out of the kitchen. Now that they were alone, Y/N allows herself to really cry, hoping a good sobbing session would clear her thoughts and emotions from the situation. 

——

Harry was sad. He was not going to say he was always sad, because, in actual fact, Harry was happy a lot of the time. He could admit he had a good life, filled with love, happiness and fun, but there were some times when joy felt more like a mirage to him, something unattainable. 

And maybe it just wasn’t for him, maybe true happiness wasn’t in his cards. 

He was someone who quickly became obsessed, found solace and comfort in certain things. Sometimes so much so it became a flaw, something he felt he would die if he lived without, and one of those was Elle. 

It used to be his mum, then music, then Niall, then Mitch, then Elle and then... nothing. Harry hadn’t found something or someone he felt he could rely on entirely since her. It seemed now he only had himself, and in his mind, that was a potentially dangerous thing. His mum was miles away, Mitch found his own solace with Sarah, Elle had left him, and Harry had never felt so alone. 

Isolation made it worse, he couldn’t distract himself with performing anymore, with drinking his body weight in alcohol or finding pretty girls who looked eerily similar to his ex, to spend a few hours with. So often he found himself uncontrollably crying, alone in bed. Harry never felt shame in crying, but there was something particularly mortifying about being loved by millions of people worldwide, yet still sobbing into his pillow because his girlfriend had broken up with him. Not only dumped him but had cheated on, destroyed him and ripped his heart into little shreds. 

And that’s where Harry was now. Lying in bed, his pillowcase wet with tears, eyes stinging and red, his cheeks stained and raw from his constant rubbing at them, and his back aching from the occasional sob pulling at the already taut muscles. 

Harry just needed a hug. He needed someone to tell him it was okay, that things would work out because at this point he honestly didn’t know himself. 

——

The next few days in the house are hell. Not just for Harry and Y/N but for everyone stuck isolating in the space. Y/N and Harry refused to talk to each other, only sharing pointed glares. Harry does all he can to piss her off, without ever having to say a word. While out for his regular morning walk to buy coffee, he purposely 'forgets' Y/N's. When it was his night to cook, he plays the English rap that he knew she hated at full volume, while making prawn pasta. Which really wouldn't have been an issue, if Y/N wasn't bloody allergic to seafood. While he claimed to not know, Y/N saw through him. Just the week before she had refused to eat lunch when Jeff had made tuna sandwiches and had clearly explained why. 

Y/N tried not to let it bother her and instead did everything she could to avoid him. When he'd come home with everyone's regular coffee order but hers, she exclaimed she "preferred homemade!" and brewed her own cup. She put in headphones and shut her door in an attempt to drown out the crap he called music. And when Harry had placed a massive bowl of steaming pasta that she couldn't fucking eat in front of her, Y/N smiled and ordered pizza instead. 

Mitch struggled through the week, staying as quiet as he usually was. If he was honest, he wished he was just quarantining with Sarah. He loved Harry but also knew that he could be a dick when he wanted to be. So despite Harry's constant prodding for him to join in on shit-talking Y/N, Mitch tried to stay out of it. 

Sarah spent the days keeping Y/N company. She felt slightly guilty that she had invited her to spend isolation stuck in a house with what happened to be the only person Sarah had ever met, who hated Y/N. Instead, she listened to her rant when Harry couldn't overhear. She baked cookies with her, and they sang shitty pop music at the top of their lungs whenever Harry decided to blast his music.  

Once again, Jeff surprised everyone. While they were used to his calming and genuine presence by now, no one expected him to play peacekeeper. Harry supposes he should've seen it coming, being his manager for four years, meant the guy had to have some kind of problem-solving skills. So Harry promptly nicknames Jeff, 'Switzerland' and despite his denials, Harry knew Jeff secretly loved it. 

Jeff spends the next few days quietly talking to all the other house members like some sort of pseudo spy. And finally, after three long days of combat, by some miracle, convinces both Harry and Y/N to talk out their issues and apologise. 

At first, both Y/N and Jeff agreed he should be in the room to mediate, but upon the request of Harry, he was waiting just outside the door, waiting for any sign of a fight, to run in and play referee. 

So that led them here, with Harry sitting on one end of the couch, oozing with confidence while actually being a mess on the inside, and Y/N on the other, nervously picking at the hem of her jumper. 

Harry is the first to speak, "look Y/N I'm sorry. You were right, Elle's a bit of a sore spot for me, and I overreacted." She nods in acknowledgement before speaking herself, "yeh, I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have pried like I did.” He nods along, still somewhat convinced he wasn’t entirely in the wrong. 

It’s the next question that makes Harry’s blood turn cold, “I just… I just need to ask why? What did I do for you to not like me? It started before last night. Before I mentioned… her.” Y/N scoots around the heartbreaker’s name.  

She watches as Harry bites his lip in what looked like deliberation before he replies, a deep sigh sitting on his pretty lips. “I don’t know. I know that’s a shitty thing to say, I treated you like shit for weeks, but it’s true. I just don’t know.” 

Y/N’s taken aback. Weeks of torture, hatred and tears and he couldn’t even tell her why he’d acted the way he did. “Harry, you can’t be serious. There must be something! You... you were so mean.” 

Y/N watches as tears well in his eyes, and she briefly wonders if she shouldn’t have pushed the topic. “I don’t know, I don’t fuckin’ know.” He lashes out, once again, his anger getting the best of him. 

Y/N throws her hands up in defeat, “I don’t know what you want from me, Harry. I’m trying here I really am, but you won’t give me anything. What do you want me to do?” 

“I know you are,” he all but chokes out. Harry didn’t know how to express himself, a million thoughts were running rampant through his mind, and he felt like if he were to try and speak, he’d have to spend hours detangling each thought from the other like shitty Christmas lights. He takes another deep sigh. He had to try, he knew it wasn’t fair to Y/N. And well, Harry wasn’t exactly happy either, maybe it would help to tell someone how he felt. 

“It’s just when I look at you... I see her. I see her in the clothes you wear and the way you laugh. You look the same for fucks sake, give me the same doe-eyed look and.. she never apologised. Never said a word, I found her in bed with my… with my best mate, and she just fucking left,” he cries out. “And when I first saw you, and you gave me that fuckin’ look I just... I just got so angry.” Harry’s face briefly scrunches in frustration, but it’s quickly overcome with grief. 

He begins to cry harder, his shoulders racking with sobs and Y/N doesn’t know what to do. She sits helplessly, watching the man she very much despised breaking down in front of her, crying previously unshed tears with his head in his hands. 

What was she supposed to do? She wasn’t going to say it was alright because it wasn’t. But god, he looks so pitiful, and Y/N knows what it’s like to have a shitty ex. She knows how painful it is to see them again after they’ve just broken your heart, knows how hard it can be to feel completely, totally and 100% betrayed by someone you loved. 

It wasn’t okay, and Y/N doesn’t know if it ever will be, but seeing Harry, the stubborn, prideful man she’d come to know, breaking down in front of her, well Y/N can hardly stand it. 

So she does the first thing she can think of, the one thing that made her feel better after her own breakup. 

She hugs him. 

She feels him tense up in her arms and for a brief second, Y/N wonders if he’s going to push her away, but instead, he relaxes. Even goes so far as to push into her slightly, allowing himself to rest his head against her chest, with her arms around him like a tantrum-throwing toddler. 

Harry can’t remember the last time he was hugged. Maybe by his mum before the pandemic, probably in a similar situation, crying over Elle in a pathetic attempt to find comfort in anything that wasn’t her arms. 

Harry had returned to LA to record three songs, “it would be two to three weeks max,” Jeff had assured him. But now he was fucking stuck here, in the same place he lived with her, heartbroken in a house with people he loved, but unfortunately would never talk about Elle with. 

Harry missed London. He missed him mum, his sister, the pubs and the tube. He missed hanging out with more mates than he could count, his little writing studio and his cat. Harry missed his own bedroom, his candles that he forgot to pack and his own record collection. Harry missed walking to the little cafe a few streets from his house, he missed the snow. 

But Harry especially missed Elle. 

He missed her cuddles and her sweet little kisses. He missed the way her nose scrunched when he tried to kiss her in public. He missed her laugh and her awful cooking. He missed her book recommendations and her screaming to pop music on the radio. Fuck, he even missed her screaming at him. 

And what a way to make his longing worse, being stuck with the dead ringer of his ex-girlfriend, only to find she was nothing like Elle, which Harry almost hated more. 

Y/N wouldn’t yell at him when he got angry but rather cry, her tears always sending a sharp pain to his chest. And Y/N didn’t pretend nothing worried her or upset her, she was open and honest. When Harry hurt her, he knew, not because she ignored him or called him a prat. No, he knew because she told him, even if it was with tears streaming down her face and a few “assholes” mixed in there. Y/N didn’t call Harry’s hobbies stupid, she liked them too, even had her own silly ones herself. She enjoyed baking, doing puzzles, and reading out loud to herself. She liked Disney movies and hated horror and loved cider but not beer. 

And Harry found himself not hating her at all, but rather himself. Because somehow, within his heartbreak, he had managed to become attracted to someone who looked and acted exactly like his ex on the surface but was someone completely different in every other way. He couldn’t treat her like Elle, couldn’t pretend she’d hurt him just as bad, and he knew that.

No, Y/N was a completely new risk and a new potential heartbreak. Harry was terrified, and this new territory that at first felt so familiar, made his chest ache and his tummy flutter, so he avoided it altogether. Pushed her away before anything could even happen at all, for his own good, to protect a heart that couldn’t take being broken again.

The two of them sat there for what felt like hours. Until Harry’s sobs slowed themselves down, and he was only shivering and sniffling quietly. Y/N continued to hold him, it seemed like he just really needed to be held.

Elle had clearly broken his heart, and Y/N knew that a part of healing was letting this anger and emotion run rampant. So she stayed put, allowing him to just sit in the sadness, and allow himself to feel a little bit of hope that everything would work out eventually. 

“It’s okay Harry. It’s going to be okay.” 

——

Y/N wasn’t sure this was a good idea. How could it be? Not even a few days ago, she and Harry couldn’t stand being in the same room as each other, and now they were alone in a car, on their way to the grocery store. It all felt too domestic.

But this was Harry, and she definitely shouldn’t be worried about the state of her car, or how to subtly remove the McDonalds wrapping on the floor in front of his feet. Just as Harry, after being handed the aux cord, probably shouldn’t have spent half the journey wondering if she liked the song that was playing and looking out of the corner of his eye to judge whether he should skip it or not. 

But here they were, walking on eggshells around each other. Hoping they both wouldn’t do something to accidentally piss off the other. 

If you’d told Harry a week ago that he would be on the way to the grocery store with Y/N by his side, he probably would’ve laughed and faked a gag. But Harry was actually the one who had suggested the trip, much to the surprise of not only Y/N but the rest of the housemates. 

They hadn’t exactly addressed his breakdown, but it seemed they’d both come to a mutual understanding to try and put the past behind them. Harry considered himself lucky, he knew he had caused and furthered the rift in their friendship, and it was because of this he knew he had to put more effort into building the trust between them back up. 

So, when Y/N was recounting the ingredients for the dinner she was planning on making, Harry had asked if she’d just come to save him remembering the long list. Y/N’s first thought was she could probably just write it down for him before she realised he was actually trying to be nice. And that was more than she could say for the last month of her living with him, so she agreed.

The grocery store was busy, filled with impatient mothers and fun-drunk teens, and Y/N was having trouble pushing the cart through the throngs of people. Harry was walking ahead of her, too preoccupied with his list (and she supposes himself) to notice her struggle and she’s never been one to ask for help. So instead tries her best to avoid the ankles of other shoppers and attempts to keep up with the cracking pace Harry had set. 

It’s only when he turns around to find her ten feet behind him, does Harry acknowledge her, his eyebrows pinched in annoyance, “what’s taking you so bloody long?” To say Y/N was taken aback would be an understatement. After everything, he’d manage to stay friendly for what, half a day?

“Excuse me? Doing so well at being friendly Harry, might want to pull it back, before I get the wrong impression.” 

Maybe it was Y/N’s sarcastic words that pulled Harry back, or perhaps he realised himself, but he really hadn't meant to be rude. At first, it was more of a joke, but he guessed that he’d become so accustomed to being snarky with Y/N, it’d come out a lot more maliciously than he’d intended.

“Fuck, what? No- I didn’t mean it like that. I was tryin’ to joke, but it came out wron- Fuck! I’m sorry, okay?” Somewhere in the middle of Harry’s rambling, Y/N starts to giggle. While she had taken it the wrong way, she was mature enough to understand she’d simply interpreted it wrong. 

“Harry relax, look like you're about to pass out. Sorry I took it the wrong way,” she shrugs, “now, where are the pickles? I’ve been craving them for weeks.” Harry’s slightly taken aback, he’d never met someone who could put an extremely valid argument behind them with such ease. 

Harry wouldn’t have blamed Y/N if she’d gotten angry with him, stomped her feet, made a fuss and yelled in his face, after all, he had spoken to her like a prick. But just like that, she had defused the argument and made Harry feel better instantly, even though he was in the wrong. Nonetheless, he follows her through the isles, making sure to help her steer the trolley when the crowd was busiest. 

Harry had actually started to enjoy himself on this trip, he wasn’t going to lie. Y/N had an easy going way about her that he hadn’t really bothered to notice before. It made it easy to chat about nonsensical things, including Harry’s first dog and his preferred brand of nail polish while they peruse the aisles. He was doing all he could to make sure the rest of the trip didn’t contain any silly arguments like the one that had almost sparked just ten minutes before, and he believes he was doing a good job. 

After stopping by the fruit aisle for some cherries (they were in season, and there was no way Y/N was missing out on the tiny period they were in season for, even if they were ridiculously overpriced,) they reach the aisle that contains pickles. Finally, Y/N had been craving them for weeks, and nothing could stop her now, not even the fact that they were on the top shelf. Y/N’s brows pinch in annoyance, who put pickles that high up anyway? 

She halfheartedly sticks her hand in the air, her fingers barely brushing against the bottom of the jar before looking behind her, watching Harry laughing at her struggle. “Are you going to help me or just keep that smug smile on your face?” 

This makes Harry’s smirk upturn even more, turning into a full boyish grin, dimples and all. “Say please sweetheart, and I might just consider it.” 

Y/N rolls her eyes, “please,” and although it is sarcastic and hardly genuine Harry takes it, walking over and reaching for the last jar of pickles. 

What happens next could be blamed on many different factors; the humidity in the supermarket being higher than the average store, it could be blamed on Harry’s sweaty fingers or maybe even the worker who decided to put them on the top shelf in the first place. 

Whatever the fault, Harry grabs the container and almost delivers it safely to the cart, until it slips from his grip and instead ends in a puddle of shattered glass, stray pickles and dripping juice. And of fucking course it’s the last jar, and of fucking course it’s Harry who drops it, right in front of the girl who’s been craving them for so long. 

Harry is almost scared to look up at Y/N’s face, knowing he was more than likely going to be met with a pouting, red, furious mix. She really had been talking about the fucking pickles for weeks, and after both Jeff and Sarah had forgotten to get them in the last two shopping trips, he can imagine her desperation.

It’s as if time was working in slow motion, Harry sees the residue pickle juice dripping from the handle of the shopping trolley, can feel his sock getting progressively wetter as the liquid seeps into his canvas sneaker. And Harry immediately starts to apologise, “fuck I’m so sorr-“ but is interrupted by Y/N manically laughing. Well, he had expected a lot of different reactions, but he hadn’t expected… laughter?

“How did that even happen,” she gets out through her laughter, “you’re an idiot!” Harry can’t help but join in. He was covered in pickle juice, and in hindsight, the situation was pretty funny. “Oi, ‘s not my fault the jar was more slippery than the average.” This only makes Y/N cackle harder, holding her stomach as though it was hurting. 

“Hold on, I’ll get something to clean it up.” As Harry watches Y/N walk away, probably to find a worker, he can’t help but think again how different Y/N was from Elle. Harry distinctly remembers shopping with her one Christmas and accidentally dropping the last box of red and white candy canes (what can he say, he can be a right clutz.) She had been shaking with fury, voice dripping with poison as she asked Harry why he was “such a fucking idiot?” He guesses she was stressed because of the time of the year, but Harry had always hated her vicious temper, which Y/N apparently lacked. 

Harry had only really seen Y/N angry or upset until now, but he could safely assume that was of his own doing. When they were getting along, she seemed to make him feel better without even trying. She could laugh despite herself, and poke fun at Harry without feeling like she was actually reprimanding him for something, and Harry, well he hadn’t really experienced that before.

Harry sees Y/N returning, with what looks to be a less than impressed worker following behind her. That is until she sees Harry standing there in all his six-foot glory, covered in pickle juice. 

She seemed to be around 20, with blonde hair braided into two plaits that sat around her neck. She had bright green eyes, and if she was a little older, Harry probably would have said she was cute. And by the looks of it, she would’ve revelled in such treatment, when she approaches Harry with a, “I’m so sorry, Mr Styles!” Harry waves off the apology, he had been the one to drop the pickles anyway. “No worries love, ‘m sorry bout’ the mess.” 

It’s like her eyes brighten two shades at the pet name as she begins to sweep up the broken glass, blushing as she does, “oh don’t even worry! Can see you made a mess of yourself as well.” Y/N can’t help but laugh, was she actually trying to flirt with a pickle stained Harry? He catches Y/N laughing behind the worker and grins, “sure did. I’m a bit of a clutz sometimes.” 

Now, Harry knew that his personality was very likeable, he was easy to talk to, and he wasn’t exactly bad to look at, so he was somewhat used to casual flirting. Who was he to pull up someone trying to shoot their shot? Usually, he preferred to go along with it, stay polite and at the end of the interaction, cut the conversation before anything serious came of it. And the girl (Hannah, according to her name tag) standing in front of him, cleaning his mess, was no exception. 

“Can see that,” she winks. Actually, fucking winks and Harry can’t help but feel slightly smug, his presumption had clearly been correct. He doesn’t see the harm in playing along, “oh can you? Thought customer service was all about being nice to the customer,” he teases lightly. Hannah giggles flirtatiously and if Harry thought she was blushing before, his effect on her is multiplied. “I’m nice, I promise!” 

Y/N almost gags, she hated PDA at the best of times, but to see them both drooling over each other made her feel sick to her stomach. Harry’s smooth reply does nothing to quell her nausea, “mhm, I bet.” Y/N would literally rather walk home than be subjected to this torture any longer. “Okay! Thanks again for being so understanding, c’mon Harry, we better get going.” 

Harry thanks the server again, giving her a small wave and a cheeky grin as he follows Y/N to the counter to check out their items. “Really, Harry? She looked about 15 years younger than you.” Harry scoffs, “fifteen years?! You think she was twelve, do you? How old do you think I am?” 

Y/N doesn’t hesitate to respond, “old enough to know better than to flirt with someone so young.” 

He couldn’t believe she was pulling this. Harry was a flirty person naturally! He never meant anything by it, and very well knew when it was appropriate and when it definitely wasn’t. He didn’t see how a little friendly conversation could hurt in this situation. “Oh please, she was at least twenty, and I was hardly flirtin’” As the worker is scanning their items, Y/N is packing them into the reusable shopping bags. “Still gross.” 

Was Y/N jealous? For a second, Harry felt the frustration swim through his veins like poison, but the knowledge of Y/N potentially acting out of envy acts as an antidote. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous lovey.” It was Y/N’s turn to scoff. If she’s honest, she’s not sure why the sight of Harry flirting with the server annoyed her so much. She was young, but Harry was right, she was very clearly of age and also stunning. 

Maybe it was the fact she hadn’t acknowledged Y/N with more than an eye roll but readily grovelled at Harry’s feet. It could’ve been leftover frustration from the pickles she would have to hold out from for another week. Or maybe it was that she didn’t like him calling someone else ‘love.’ Perhaps she was just frustrated that it had taken her months for Harry to be civil with her, but had taken ‘Hannah’ all but five minutes. Whatever the reason, she didn’t like the pit in her stomach or the tingling in the tips of her fingers. “Not a chance, Harry.” 

Harry just smiled in response, while Y/N felt waves of negative emotions rolling through her, he felt butterflies erupting from the pit of his tummy, a small fluttering reaching all the way to his heart. Harry was ready to admit, Y/N’s jealousy made him happy. He was a narcissist; that he knew, and a pretty girl getting frustrated that his attention wasn’t purely focused on her, made his vain little heart soar. 

This little shopping expedition had given both of them huge revelations. Harry realised, the thought of Y/N being jealous over him made him extremely happy, and maybe even gave him some new spank bank material? Y/N realised that while she and Harry could be civil, it didn’t mean they didn’t know the exact places to poke and prod at each other to cause a reaction. 

——

It was Y/N's turn to pick a card, and although she'd initially been hesitant to play this game, she could admit she was having fun. When Harry had first pulled out 'Truth, Dare or Drink,' her first instinct was to ridicule him and say, "I didn't realise we were still in eighth grade," but she bit her tongue. After the supermarket, she still felt like she was continually filtering everything she said, worried a single word may be the negative turning point for their relationship. 

And well, after a few rounds, Y/N realised the game was much too risky for a bunch of eighth-graders and found some questions too intrusive even for her adult self to answer. However, with the help of at least half a bottle of chardonnay, she found herself managing just fine. Jeff had called it a night a few rounds ago, claiming he was "getting too old for this shit," but it didn't stop the rest of the group from playing.  

"Okay, ask the player to your left what their favourite sex position is. If they can't answer- both of you drink four sips." Immediately, Y/N turns to Sarah, who happens to be sitting on her left and also happens to be bright red. With a quick, "come on babe, all friends here," from Harry, Sarah buries her head in her hands before mumbling, "from behind." The answer causes an eruption of giggles and hollers from the very tipsy group and a sly smirk from Mitch, making Y/N laugh harder. 

"Alright shut up you lot," Sarah grumbles before picking up her own card. "Dare one player to share their best and worst hookup, or both of you finish your drinks. Okay, well the only one mean enough to name and shame would be Harry, so off you go H." This is met with a disgruntled, "oi" from the man in question and a casual "not wrong," from Mitch. While Harry huffs, he seems to have no issue and responds immediately, almost like he had the answer on the tip of his tongue. 

"Best was Elle, obviously. And worst, um," he deliberates for a few seconds before continuing, "was this guy I met in Brazil, he was awful! Didn't even prep my poor arse, just went straight in for the kill. Was scarred for months." He's met with roaring laughter, and at first, he tries to look pissed but ends up giggling along with them. While his poor bum really had taken a beating that night, in hindsight it was a funny sex horror story for a drunken night. "C'mon Mitchy boy, your turn." 

Mitch picks up the card and immediately scoffs, "This one's to all players, take two sips if you have ever been attracted to someone else currently playing this game." Unsurprisingly both Mitch and Sarah drink, sending cheeky winks over their cups to each other. But what shocks every player at the table is both Y/N and Harry lifting their glasses. They make eye contact with each other as they are sipping and Harry raises a questioning eyebrow towards her. 

Y/N quickly looks over to Sarah, to see her sitting with her own bewildered look, glancing between them. She had known Y/N enjoyed Harry's music, but maybe didn't know how much she also fancied him- that is until she had a conversation with him. 

"So you've either had the hots for me, my girlfriend or the chick you hate, nice H," a very inebriated Mitch says with a laugh. If Y/N hadn't already been watching him, she might have missed the flash of guilt that flickers through Harry's eyes. He looks over at her with an apologetic look, "I never said I hated-" 

"It's fine, Harry. Just pick a card, it's your turn." Y/N interrupts him, she wasn’t going to lie and say that it didn’t sting. However, while she knew they'd come to a newfound understanding, Y/N was well aware that it had initially come from Harry's resentment of her. He sighs but picks up a card anyway, pausing some, a slight blush appearing on his cheeks, before reading it aloud. "Uh... give the person to your left a hickey, or finish your drink." At first, Y/N laughs until she realises that the person sitting to his left would be her. 

In an attempt to lighten the situation, Y/N spits out, "go on, start drinking then." Mitch and Sarah start to laugh, "I could've called that one," Sarah chuckles, but Harry looks rather unimpressed. While she actually didn't care if Harry were to give her a hickey, (let's be real he was a dick, but a hot one at that!) she knew he would be thoroughly put out by it. They had become civil, not ‘drunkenly-give-one-another-a-hickey’ level friends.

"I'm not the one with the problem. I doubt he'd wanna kiss on the girl he hates." Y/N had meant it to be a joke, she really had! But the underlying biting tone would be almost impossible to miss. She was definitely playing with fire here, knowing Harry could snap at any moment. She watches as Harry's nostrils flare slightly before he bites back, "no problem here, you're just scared you'd enjoy it too much sweetheart." At that Y/N scoffs, his arrogance never ceased to amaze her, "oh please, don't give yourself so much credit, Harry."  

He laughs, "are you saying you wouldn't?"

"Almost certain of it," she quickly retaliates. Now, Harry knew he was a dick. He knew he could be impatient and rude. Was aware of his short temper and sometimes biting passive-aggressiveness. Had been well informed of his bad habit of sometimes oversharing and even bragging too much. Even knew how annoying his constant discussion of the superiority of salads to veggies could get on the nerves of those around him. 

But the one thing Harry knew for sure, was that he was good at fucking. He loved to see the person he was with, shaking with pleasure below him. Thoroughly enjoyed giving his partner everything he had, to hear them screaming his name with their eyes rolled back in pleasure. Harry liked having sex, and on account of others, Harry was fucking good at it. So Y/N sitting there, doubting he could make her feel all amazing and jittery, probably pissed him off more than it should have. 

"Fucking c' mere then." While Harry had merely said that in the heat of the moment (and possibly to get a rise out of Y/N) he was beyond shocked when she actually got up and stood before him. "I'm here. Now what smartass?" His jaw ticks and he raises an eyebrow, silently questioning Y/N's challenge. Did she really want to get involved in this? Surely she knew Harry would come out victorious. Apparently not, because she crosses her arms and scoffs, "knew you were all talk." 

Now Y/N doesn't want to admit she's intimidated because god this was Harry she was thinking about. However, when he grips her arms, flips her around and pushes her back into the chair he was just occupying, Y/N can't exactly say she's fine and dandy. 

Harry was much taller than her when they were both standing up, but with her sitting down, he towers above her, and she can't help but feel childlike and demure. His shit-eating grin only grows when he sees that, and he slowly bends down until his cologne infiltrates Y/N's nostrils and fills her head with a fog she can't quite get rid of. "What was that, darling?" 

Y/N is willing herself to say anything, literally anything that wouldn't fuel his already raging ego. If she's honest the barely mumbled, "um, nothing," doesn't really cut it, but what was she to do? Before she'd met Harry, Y/N probably would've considered his looks to be something akin to her ‘dream guy.' So, when he places his hands on each armrest beside her, essentially trapping her, it doesn't exactly help to calm her nerves. Harry oozed sex, and if the look in his eye was anything to go off, he knew it. 

As his face becomes level with hers, Y/N can smell the sweet apple cider he had been drinking and can feel the bottom of his unbuttoned shirt brushing against the tops of her thighs. And for the second time that month, Y/N wonders if she should move away from the compromising position she and Harry had found themselves in, but she once again decides against it. Harry places his hand against the side of her neck, hooking his thumb under her jaw. He encourages her to move her head further to the side with some gentle pressure, which she happily obliges to. 

Y/N can't help but inhale sharply when she feels his slightly chilled lips gently brush against her earlobe, before placing a tender kiss behind her ear. "Is this okay?" If Y/N were in a better headspace, she might have tried to play this whole thing off with an indifferent nod. Instead, she feels herself nodding rapidly, and takes a moment to curse herself as she feels Harry's lips curl into a grin at her eagerness. 

Harry allows his lips to run down the side of Y/N's neck so lightly he knew it must be tickling her. Once he reaches her collarbone, he places a quick peck against it before once again trailing his lips up her soft skin, leaving light kisses in his wake. Y/N's breathing stops as she feels Harry's tongue touching her skin as he begins his ascent, leaving a chilling trail that sends shivers through her whole body. 

She feels herself slipping into a hazy state, in which all control was given to Harry, and while her first instinct is to break it, her second is to bask in it. Her decision is hastily rewarded when Harry starts to suction his lips against her. 

Y/N actively silences the whimper that arises from her throat as Harry continues to bruise the skin he kisses, and she briefly wonders if he had heard the beginnings of her mewl as he chuckles, sending a gust of cold hair down her neck. Harry gently bites down on Y/N's throat, which causes a small sting, the aftershocks travelling all the way down to her toes. But his tongue laving over the mark works to quickly soothe the ache. 

While she felt as if she had sat feeling the effect of Harry's mouth for hours, it had only been about ten seconds in reality. But the familiar pull in Y/N's lower stomach screams at her to ignore time, grab his shirt and push her mouth against his. However, the cough heard from behind her, quells these dirtier thoughts almost immediately. And just like that, as quickly as it had come, the pleasuring warmth Harry provided was gone. 

Y/N struggles to flutter her eyes back open, that she hadn't realised had even closed in the first place. 

Well, she wasn't expecting that, and while she assumed Harry would feel the same, his deep smirk tells her something different. He looks at her with a hunger in his eyes, and she briefly wonders if he felt the same pull towards her. Y/N was fighting the urge to drag him to the nearest bedroom and instead clears her throat and looks behind her to assess Mitch and Sarah's reactions. 

Safe to say, they were as shocked as she was, with gaping mouths and wide eyes, everyone sits in silence for what feels like far too long. Y/N was embarrassed. Usually, she hated PDA, yet she'd just let Harry suck on her neck like some kind of B-grade vampire in front of her cousin and her boyfriend. 

Y/N stands back up to move around to her own chair, but with her head down, she misses Harry reaching to brush his knuckles against her own, but only feels the comforting touch. Harry watches as she refuses to meet his eye, and while he enjoyed himself, he hoped he hadn't gone too far with her. But when Sarah grabs her head and pulls it to the side to see the blooming mark on Y/N's skin, Harry can't help but smirk and feel slightly proud. Y/N had said she was okay with him touching her, maybe she was just flustered, and if her bright red cheeks were anything to go by, that's Harry's safest guess. "Jesus H, you really did a number on her." 

Y/N refused to acknowledge the effect Harry had instilled upon her, but she can feel her cheeks radiating a cherry-red heat, and she can only pray no one else notices. "Uh, it's my turn," she manages to choke out, and a quick glance at Harry shows she's not hiding her flustered state as well as she'd hoped. His dimples are on full display, decorated with his complacent grin, and he's sitting back in his chair, arms crossed over one another. 

"Pick the most attractive player, both of you take three sips," you've got to be fucking joking, she was pretty sure everyone knew her answer to that, but she refused to give him the satisfaction. "It's Sarah. Who's next?" Sarah cheers' Y/N's glass and takes her sips as she grabs the next card. 

Y/N can see Harry's disgruntled look and can vaguely hear his murmured, "bullshit," but she only sends him a glare as she takes her three sips. 

——

Harry was drunk. No cut that, he was fucked. It was approximately six ciders ago that he began to feel light and giggly. And then maybe two or so ciders ago he began to have trouble walking in a straight line and was genuinely considering shaving his head. And now, he was here. Planted on the couch watching Y/N and Sarah sing some song he definitely knew but couldn't name, Taylor Swift maybe? 

His head felt heavy, and if he was honest, thoughts were entering his head and then leaving it before he could even acknowledge what they were. He can vaguely recognise Mitch's voice, talking about something that Harry, no matter how hard he tried, could actually listen to. So he sits on the couch and watches Y/N. She looked pretty with her hair down and messy, and Harry wishes he could stop her from dancing and ask if she could just sit next to him instead. But he thinks he's probably just drunk and maybe a bit lonely, so he doesn't. 

He's not sure if he was calling Y/N's name and hadn't realised or if she had noticed how not okay he seemed, but she approaches him anyway. "Harry, are you alright?" She looks worried, and Harry hates that he's made her feel that. He's tempted to use his thumb to mould the lines in her forehead back out like cheap clay, but he's not sure she'd want him to touch her. So he nods lightly, attempting a smile, but she doesn't return it. 

"Sarah, I'm gonna take Harry up to bed, he seems pretty gone." Harry doesn't hear Sarah's response because he's too busy focusing on Y/N's lips and how pretty and puffy they are. He briefly wonders what they'd feel like around the head of his cock, but he's drawn out of those thoughts when he realises she's calling his name. 

"Harry, c'mon, come upstairs to bed with me." Um, had Harry missed something? He doesn't really mind, truthfully he'd quite like to take Y/N upstairs and have his way with her, but, Y/N must see the look on his face because she laughs, "not like that you lecher! God, you really are pissed." 

Harry smiles and takes the hand she's giving him, wrapping his arm around her shoulders for stability. The group had experienced quite a few drunken nights during isolation, but Y/N had never seen Harry this intoxicated before and while she's quite enjoying him acting kind of goofy, she's just praying he doesn't vomit on her during their climb upstairs. 

Y/N does her best to guide Harry to his room, who provides absolutely no help, only giggling to himself as she struggles to hold him up. Finally, she makes it, only realising once she had stepped inside, that she had never actually seen Harry's room before. 

Similarly to Y/N’s, his room has the shell of a guest bedroom, the art on the walls a little too unpersonalised and the furniture stark and white. The bones of the room are fleshed out with Harry’s belongings, clearly in random places that were not permanent, as if he’d placed his records and guitar down the first day he got there, and left them in those exact same places. There are dirty clothes strewn upon the floor, and books sitting next to glasses stacked neatly on the bedside table. Next to them, is a candle that Y/N can’t read the scent of from her position in the doorway, something sweet from the smell permeating through the room, mixing intoxicatingly with Harry’s telltale sandalwood like cologne. 

Harry stands in the middle of the room, clearly having forgotten his purpose as he turns to look back at Y/N with a slightly lost expression. "Want to get into bed Harry?" He nods and stumbles over to his mattress, falling rather than laying in it. As Y/N's about to turn around to go back downstairs, she hears Harry's voice, much quieter than it usually is, "I'm sorry." She's not sure if she heard him correctly. 

"What did you say, Harry?"

"I'm sorry." He whispers. 

"For what?" Y/N knows what he could be sorry for, he did treat her like shit for weeks, but they’d already apologised and somewhat buried the hatchet. "For bein' a dick. You don't deserve it, never did." She walks closer to him, until she stands about a foot from the bed, and can see Harry's eyes full of sorrow and close to tears in the dark. 

"Come on, you're just drunk. If you want to talk about it more in the morning, we can." Y/N knows he'll forget by then, she's not sure he even remembers what he just said. He holds his hand out to her, and she hesitantly takes it, "ya just look so much like her, you know? Act like her too." Harry repeats the same words he’d told you yesterday. 

"Who, Harry?" 

He looks at her with his big green eyes, and she knows he's drunk, and she knows he'll forget this all in the morning, but she can't help but sit down beside him on the bed. 

"Elle." 

Y/N didn’t know what to say to that. She didn’t want Harry to burst into tears again, the topic clearly sensitive, let alone in his intoxicated state. So she stays silent, watches as Harry shuts his eyes, and Y/N nearly thinks he’s fallen asleep, until he reopens them again, "nicer than her though. Prettier too." 

Y/N's not going to lie, hearing Harry talk about her in a way that wasn't entirely negative for once was flattering, but she couldn't help but feel it was more the cider talking. She knew how much he missed Elle, that much was obvious, and she had thought that was what had made him hate her so much. She was worried he would wake up angry that he had told her things he hadn't intended to, or even worse, something he hadn't meant. 

So she leans over him to grab the side of the bedsheet he had torn away, but his freezing hand on her neck causes her to pause. His thumb is lightly brushing over the mark he left on her earlier, and Y/N audibly swallows. He was close enough that he could lean in slightly and press his lips against the same spot once more, but he doesn't, only whispers, "looks so good on you." Y/N feels his warm breath against her bare neck as he speaks, causing that pull to return to her lower stomach once more, "H, I don't think we should do this right now." 

Y/N didn’t know what exactly ‘this’ was, she just knew she didn’t want either of them to be intoxicated when it happened. The Harry Y/N knew, would pull back, laugh and ask if she really thought he'd ever want to do 'this' with her, but this intoxicated and unpredictable Harry presses his lips softly to her neck once, before pulling back and sighing. "I know." 

He studies her face carefully before speaking again. "You've never called me H before, I like it." Y/N sighs, "honestly I didn't think we were on that level. Thought you'd get mad at me," she laughs lightly although what she said was true. 

She had thought about adopting the same nickname everyone else in the house used but was too scared he would make fun of her or ask her why she felt she had the right to call him that. So she played it safe, only calling him Harry, but she guessed the nickname slipped out while he was very much inebriated and very much unlikely to say any word of opposition. 

If Y/N didn't know any better, she'd think Harry looked almost hopeful as he whispered, "so we are now?" but the expression is fleeting. She wants to feed into it but isn't sure if it's more her mind playing tricks on her. Showing her things she desperately wants to be true, only to turn around a reveal it was fake the whole time. So she shrugs, "I don't know Harry." 

He nods slowly but doesn't say anything else. "Try to get some sleep." He nods again, "night." 

"Night H." 

——

Harry doesn't know what happened. Had he been drugged? Used as a voodoo doll? Abducted by aliens? Something had happened, because when he woke up with a pounding head, his first feeling was disappointment. But not disappointment about having to nurse a shocking hangover, no, it was disappointing that Y/N wasn't in bed with him. He could’ve sworn she had come upstairs with him. 

Harry was slowly coming to terms with the fact that he didn't hate her and perhaps, just maybe had developed a small crush towards her. But wishing she was cuddling him after a drunken night? That was too close to something serious, something that Harry was definitely not ready for. Not after Elle. 

Walking down the stairs, he wonders if there's a reason for his sudden desperation? He vaguely remembers giving her a hickey, but that was a part of the game. He remembers Y/N walking into his room and sitting on his bed, but can’t recall what was actually said. 

Stepping into the kitchen, feels the same as usual, maybe with added head pain. Mitch is doing the dishes from the breakfast sitting on the table in front of Y/N and Sarah. Everything seems painfully familiar. Except, looking at Y/N now, with sober goggles and daylight, Harry completely understands why drunk him was so enamoured. She looks beautiful, with an oversized tee-shirt barely covering her smooth legs, her hair in a messy bun atop her head, and the striking hickey against her neck painfully obvious. Seeing Y/N with his mark against her neck makes Harry have to will his stiffy away. She hadn't even tried to hide it.

Harry doesn't know how long he'd been standing in the entrance of the kitchen, staring at Y/N like a creep, but she catches his eye and sends him a shy smile. "Mornin' H, brekkies on the table," Mitch states, as Harry quickly returns the smile Y/N gave him and sits across from her, "looks good, man. Thanks for cooking." 

Harry is slightly shocked when Y/N speaks up from the other side of the table, he had been expecting her to ignore him like she had after he’d given her the mark that was causing a tingle in his lower tummy. "How's your head?" She says softly. 

He gives her a small grin, "it's been better if'm honest." She laughs, "yeh, you were pretty fucked last night." Harry can't tell if she's genuinely just making conversation or if she's trying to figure out if he remembered the events that occurred. "Was I? Not too drunk to remember giving you that," he points at her neck with his syrup covered fork. His words have their desired effect as Y/N turns bright red, "really does look good on you love." 

Harry's not sure what he's doing, he's aware of how flirty he is being. While they were now able to be around each other and have a conversation without biting each other’s heads off, hitting on each other was a whole different ball game. All he knows is that the more he looks at Y/N, the more he wants to get on his knees before her. 

Harry had never flirted so openly with Y/N before. What the fuck was he playing at? Y/N had assumed that Harry became a tad clingy and loving with a few drinks in his system. So as he sits across from her, dead sober, and continues to flirt with her, Y/N is confused. Maybe he was still drunk? Had he taken something she wasn't aware of? Been probed in the middle of the night? She wasn't sure, but she couldn't say she didn't like it. 

She also didn't want to get too comfortable, only for him to turn around and treat her as horribly as he had when she first got here. So she gives him a small smile and continues to eat her breakfast, merely listening to the conversations happening around her. 

——

No matter how hard she tried, Y/N could not get the thought of Harry off her mind. Could still feel the ghost of his lips trailing along her neck, and the way his hand brushed along hers. She couldn’t help but imagine the way his lips would feel pressing softly against her own, his tongue licking into her mouth. She imagines his hands to be soft but still firm as they held her hips, her neck, her own fingers laced in his. His voice replays in her head, and she wonders how his accent would twirl and twist around filthy words, whispered into the shell or her ear. 

 She can't forget how she felt hearing the lilt of his voice when it was flirting with someone else. Can’t get away from the pit in her stomach, the aching head and chest. She had laid awake for so many nights trying to figure out why exactly it had bothered her so much. 

She could only amount it all to a certain type of jealousy, but what was she jealous of? Harry had never shown her any sort of romantic attention before, that is until he was suckling at her neck and calling her sweetheart. But what did it all mean? Did he feel the same pull towards her, or was she just imagining his sudden fondness of her? Did she actually like him, or just the idea of his lips pressed against hers rather than her neck. She needed to talk to someone, and thank goodness for her, Sarah was home. 

Ever since they were little Sarah and Y/N had been ridiculously close. They had experienced each stage of their lives together, from playing at the local playground to trying their first cigarette in the bathroom of Sarah’s family home. Sarah was the big sister that Y/N had never had, always there for advice or a bit of fun. Teaching her about sex and drinking, what it was like to kiss another person or drive a car for the first time. Sarah explained everything with practiced expertise that looking back on, Y/N could see she definitely didn’t have at the time.  

Their family homes were only a road apart, and every day either Y/N or Sarah would make the small trek to each other’s house and spend hours discussing nothing and everything. Sarah was the closest thing Y/N had ever had to a sibling, and after Sarah had left for tour with Harry and the band, Y/N had felt a Sarah sized hole in her heart. Honestly, for Y/N, quarantine felt like a blessing in disguise, she felt like they could make up for the months of lost time and distance between them. 

In search of her cousin, Y/N only comes across Mitch reading in the living room, “hey, do you know where Sarah is?” He glances at Y/N from above his book, owlishly blinking as if he was confused, and maybe he was. Mitch is well known for getting lost in anything he loves, from books and movies and especially in his music. “Um, the shower… I think?” 

Bidding him thanks, Y/N heads towards the downstairs toilet where she could hear the water running. While they all had bathrooms in their rooms, they’d found the downstairs communal shower particularly helpful. It was easy to slip into after they’d just come back from swimming at the beach or a run, without mucking salt water or sweat through the whole house. Y/N knew Sarah had gone out for a jog about an hour ago, so had no doubt she was having a quick wash before dinner. 

If it were anybody else, Y/N would’ve waited until they had finished, but ever since they were thirteen or so, Y/N and Sarah had an odd tradition of having intense conversations while one of them was showering. Y/N still remembers the week Sarah’s parents had decided to split up, she had spent every night sitting on the closed toilet seat crying and ranting while Y/N stood under the hot water, listening and trying her best to comfort her. It was a weird habit of theirs, but for them, the chance to chat with someone without having to look them in the eye was therapeutic, almost like a church confessional. 

Although Y/N was relatively happy, she wasn’t about to enter a religious confessional. When it came to Harry, she had definitely committed at least four of the seven mortal sins. No, it was just Sarah, and Y/N knew that no matter what she admitted, it would be received with love and unconditional support. So she charges through the bathroom door, eager to spill all that was muddling up her mind, “Sarah! We need to talk about Harry, I need your help.” 

Y/N expects Sarah’s tinkling laugh, soothing cooing, maybe even a big sigh and her calming voice asking her what was wrong. Instead, she is met with the deep and drawling laugh of Harry himself. 

Looking back now, Y/N wishes she could say she dealt with her mistake with careful grace and poise, but instead she lets out a bloodcurdling scream, and as she sees the shower curtain drawn to the left she slaps her hands over her eyes. The melodic laugh of Harry’s continues as he clearly notices her current predicament, “can look if you want babe.” 

Y/N whines, “I- um, no. I don’t- I thought you were Sarah. What the fuck is happening.” Y/N can hear the smirk in Harry’s voice as he answers, “yeh Y/N, I got that. Seriously, I’m covered up.” 

And maybe, it would’ve been better for Y/N to stay standing with her hands over her eyes like a petulant child because as she drops them, the sight she’s met with is one to behold and one Y/N’s not sure she can handle. Harry is covered with the shower curtain pulled across his bottom half, but Y/N trails her eyes upwards, sees the small trail of slightly damp hair leading down to the white curtain, and her eyes widen comically, he looks like a wet dream and Y/N’s not sure how to react. 

His curls are stuck to his neck and forehead, matted against the soft wet skin. His naturally tanned chest is on display, dripping with water, and covered in his tattoos. Y/N can’t help but notice the inked swallows along his chest, drawing attention to his collarbones, the skin taught against the bone, and Y/N wants to kiss along it and taste the mix of salt and sweetness of his neck. The butterfly covering his abs ripples as he clears his throat, drawing Y/N’s attention away from his body. 

“So what did you need to talk to Sarah about, hm?” Anything I can help you with?” Y/N can feel the blood rush to her cheeks, fully aware that Harry had caught her ogling at his partially naked body. Her tongue feels heavy in her mouth, and she’s not sure whether it’s from the sight in front of her or the embarrassment of being caught staring at it. 

Y/N stutters, trying to force herself to say something, anything at all that would make this situation less unnerving “um, I-no?” Which comes out more like a question than anything, and Y/N curses herself for her weak resolve. Harry smirks, “Cat got your tongue pet?” Y/N hates how easily he can get her worked up, and hates it even more how obvious it is to him. “Stop teasing me! I can’t, you know, I don’t-... you’re naked okay!” 

Harry’s dimples deepen, and a smirk takes over a little less than half of his face, “don’t pretend you don’t love my teasing, darlin’.” It’s at this point that Y/N realises that she had been in this situation much longer than appropriate, standing flustered and hot from Harry being so close to her while nude. 

“I need to go,” it comes out as more of a whisper, her voice rough with lust. She coughs as if to clear her throat, but from what she’s unsure. The intense desire she feels for a man she despised a month ago, perhaps? “Relax Y/N, no big deal. I think Sarah’s in the shower upstairs though if you’re still looking.”

She nods in response, slowly backing out of the room before turning around and quickly shutting the door behind her. She feels her breath heaving in and out of her lungs. Feels her throat tighten and her head dizzy, and an intense tingling feeling starts at her toes and spreads all the way to her lower tummy. The familiar pull of lust and need brings an ache to her core, and she feels the sticky heat between her legs. 

While Y/N may not know it, Harry is affected by her as much as she is by him. He stands in the shower, a stupid grin across his face, dimples indenting his cheek. Harry could pretend he didn’t see Y/N blatantly ogling him, or her cheeks burn a delicious crimson when she had gotten caught. Could even pretend he didn’t see her subconsciously squeezing her thighs together while she stood in front of him, like she was so desperate for Harry she couldn’t even wait to relieve the tension building inside of her. 

Harry could pretend not to notice, but as he felt a tingle zap down his spine, and the accustomed rush of blood to his lower half, Harry realised he didn't want to. Would rather explore this unnerving territory, and see what it had in store for him. 

——

Harry had reached a new level of boredom. So much so, he had resorted to doing a puzzle.

Harry was notorious for always being busy, was constantly on tour, playing shows and promoting his music. The quietest periods in Harry’s life were the months of writing he’d participate in, where his mind was anything but still. He wasn’t used to doing nothing all day, and while he had tried to write during isolation, the months of doing fuck all made inspiration hard to come by. 

So it led Harry to his current situation, trying to complete a challenging puzzle at the dining table. Sarah and Mitch were napping the late afternoon away, Jeff was playing Xbox games in the living room, and Y/N had gone for a walk, right after she had brought the puzzle out from her room after Harry had asked her to. He had heard her talking to Sarah about how much she loved puzzles a few months ago and had even shown her the one she had brought to quarantine; however, she hadn’t gotten the chance to start it yet. 

Harry had been doing nothing all day, and he was sick of sitting in bed, refreshing his Instagram feed every ten minutes. To be honest, a puzzle wouldn’t have been Harry’s first choice of a relaxing pastime activity, but there was only so much social media and movie marathons Harry could take. 

He was nervous at first to ask Y/N. Over the last few days, it seemed like there was a certain tension between them, as if they were both aware of the lust that had been swirling throughout the bathroom as thick as the steam from Harry’s shower, but didn’t want to admit it. They were testing the waters, sometimes stumbling through amorous conversations, while still attempting to maintain their indifference. 

However, he was slightly remorseful of his decision for a different reason, when he asked Y/N if he could borrow it from her, she had squealed in excitement, telling him her ‘top tips’ for completing a jigsaw for at least ten minutes. He guesses her passion and love for the shitty quarantine past time, overrode her awkward feelings towards their situation. If he was honest, Harry didn’t give a fuck about “making sure to find the corners first!” but he didn’t want to hurt her feelings, so he nodded along and pretended to listen. 

But Harry had really come to regret his decision when he hadn’t found a piece in over an hour. He was frustrated and the stifling temperature Sarah insisted on keeping the house at, wasn’t helping. He had completed a small section at the top right corner, five or six pieces on the left, and a few random bits he had stuck together and somehow happened to get correct. He was slightly embarrassed when Y/N returned from her walk, to find him with his head in his hands, looking more than sorry for himself. Her tinkling laughter doesn’t make him feel any better, either. 

“Having trouble H?” 

He looks up to her standing in the doorway, attempting to plaster his award-winning grin upon his face, “if I’d known it was this hard I never would have asked if I could do it.” She grins back, and walks over to the table, looking down at the pieces with a concentrated focus. “Hm I never said it was going to be easy, thought my tips would help, but I guess not.” 

Harry tries yet another piece that doesn’t fit with the ones surrounding it, and sighs, “if the puzzle master wants to help, that would be lovely,” he lilts. She picks up the segment Harry had just dropped and places into the correct position on the opposite side of the puzzle that Harry had placed it in. “You’re flattering me now.” She hesitates for a tick, “lucky for you, I like it.” 

Harry loved this new dynamic between them, it was light and teasing, something he hadn’t had with her before. He’s not going to lie and say that he didn’t slightly enjoy the biting exchanges they had previously shared, but this flirty air between them was exciting.  

“I’ll keep that in mind pet. Now, what were those tips again?” 

It’s safe to say Harry was impressed with Y/N’s skill, he had never thought puzzles were that difficult until he actually tried to complete one. Y/N however, was fast, seemed to pick up pieces and instantly be able to connect to where they should go, and quickly finished at least ninety percent of the puzzle. Harry fit the odd part in place, which Y/N praised each time, with a small cheer and a “well done!” each time. Finally, the puzzle was almost complete with only one gap in the picture of golden retriever puppies climbing on one another. 

Y/N looks at Harry and hands him the last puzzle piece, “you should put the last bit in.” Harry can’t explain the warm glow that emits from his heart, he doesn’t know why it makes him so happy. She was kind and considerate, and Harry wasn’t used to people always putting him first, usually being doubtful of anyone he hadn’t known for a while, worried about what their true intentions were. “You sure? You did most of it.” She giggles, “nah, we did it together!” Harry takes the bit of cardboard from her and places it in the last empty spot. 

He looks up at Y/N who’s grinning at him stupidly, and he can’t help but smile back. It’s then that Harry starts to really look at Y/N. He notices the dusting of freckles on the top of her nose, her eyes laced with pride and happiness and her lips, the bottom one stuck between her two front teeth, but both looking so soft and sweet. Y/N must catch Harry staring at her lips because she releases the supple flesh from between her bite. 

“Did you have fun?” She whispers. 

Harry tries to reply, but his voice dies in his throat. All he can manage is a small nod, his gaze dropping back to Y/N’s mouth. He lifts his hand to her face, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear, and she leans into the touch slightly. Unknowingly, they had gotten even closer, and Harry can feel her small puffs of air against his lips, could brush them against hers if he leaned an inch forward. 

“Harry, what do you want to do for dinner?” Mitch yells from the room one over, scaring both Y/N and Harry, who instantly pull away from each other. Harry coughs, “um, I don’t know man.” 

Mitch walks into the room, Sarah in tow, who sees the completed puzzle on the table and runs over, “you finally did it Y/N!” Harry looks over to the girl in question. Her cheeks a cherry red as she looks over to Harry, “uh yeah, Harry and I did it together.” Sarah looks between them, with an impish look on her face mixed with slight disbelief, “oh, that’s… nice.” 

Harry’s attention is drawn away from Y/N when Mitch pipes up again, “I was thinking tacos, so we could make frozen margaritas for game night.” Harry is grateful for the change in topic, knowing Sarah was more than likely to make a comment that Harry was not ready to address. Particularly if Y/N had indeed continued the conversation she had planned to have with Sarah a few days ago when she’d walked in on Harry in the shower. 

“You know I’m always down for a margarita.” 

—— 

Y/N was slightly buzzed. She hated feeling entirely out of control when she drank, and she’d found the perfect point between dead sober and sloppy. She felt a warm feeling in her fingertips and toes, felt slightly light-headed and was just a tad obnoxiously giggly. The group had been playing monopoly, and while Y/N usually hated the game, she was thoroughly enjoying it tonight. 

Sarah had been helping Y/N, so she wasn’t so lost in terms of properties and the differences between houses and hotels. Jeff was as quiet as usual, but somehow had a secret talent for swindling properties and hoard money. Mitch had prioritised his margarita over the game, buying random properties when he felt like it, and fucking up everyone else’s plans of winning. And Harry had made it his mission to beat Y/N. If he was honest, he just loved seeing her pout every time he would buy whatever spaces were left of the colours she was aiming for, or teasing her every time she got a smaller roll than him. 

As Harry bought another green property that Y/N was gunning for, she realised she was nursing an empty glass. “Does anyone want another margarita?” Agreements come from all around the table, so Y/N gets up, grabbing a few empty glasses. As she stands, she feels the blood rush to her head, a slight dizziness tingling through her body, and she giggles as she stumbles towards the kitchen. 

Harry and Mitch had made the previous rounds, Y/N watching the first couple be made. Which meant she probably should remember the ingredients, but if she’s honest, the copious amount of alcohol running through her bloodstream has caused a lapse in her memory. Was she supposed to put one or two cups of ice in? Y/N curses herself and her shitty memory under her breath, realising she will definitely need help. She was clearly too tipsy to think coherently. 

“Oi, how much tequila do I put in? And is it Cointreau or triple sec? And how much ice do I use” She yells into the adjacent room, sighing slightly, hoping someone would come and help her. And she can’t explain her excitement when Harry rounds the corner, maybe because the pressure of making the drinks had been lifted, but more likely because it was simply him. He comes in with a smiling face, his hair slightly messed and his eyes filled with the misty happiness of someone who is perfectly buzzed. 

Y/N couldn’t quite describe the shiver that travels down her spine or the tension she feels in her stomach, all she knows is in the last few days, the intense feeling had begun to grow stronger whenever Harry was around. There was something about him, the way he carried himself, the shy smirks he’d give her, or the gentle touches he’d provide as he walked passed her. 

In every touch, every look and every feeling she got from Harry, Y/N could sense the tension growing stronger. She was amazed the rest of the group hadn’t picked up on it, other than Sarah of course, who was watching from the sidelines, waiting for one of them to crack. 

“What’s the problem bunny?” His eyes soft as he walks over to a defeated Y/N. He watches as her eyes crinkled slightly as she giggles despite herself, “I wanted to make everyone drinks, but I realised I don’t actually know how to.” She sheepishly watches Harry’s face mirror her own with a small grin, “well that just won’t do, will it? Sit on the counter n’ I’ll show you again.” 

She jumps on the kitchen bench, the surface cold against her otherwise alcohol flushed skin. She watches Harry gather the ingredients from around the kitchen, noticing the way his back strains against the white and yellow t-shirt he was wearing, the arch of his back clear and his shoulders strong and broad.

Over the past week or so, Y/N had started to see the funny and charming personality that the rest of the household had previously been privy to. His witty and sweet persona had shone through, and it had done nothing to curb the intense sexual feelings she felt towards him, instead they were only growing, especially with each pet name that his puffy pink lips shaped around. 

Harry begins to place the ingredients in the blender, and Y/N is confident he’s giving her instructions as he does so, but she is just so distracted by his strong fingers adorned by his shiny rings, each one a different shape and size. “Are y’listening?” 

She snaps her eyes back to his face, to see one side of his pretty mouth tugging upwards, suggesting he already knew the answer to his own question. “What are you lookin’ at my hands for?” She feels the warmth rush to the apples of her cheeks, sheepishly replying, “I was just looking at your rings, they’re very pretty.” 

He smiles and jokingly holds his hand up to her face, wiggling his fingers. Y/N chuckles and grabs his pointer finger, pulling it towards her to get a better look. She holds his hand while looking at the silver band wrapped around his digit, eyeing the small red ruby shining brightly in the centre of it, “like this one,” she whispers. He matches her volume, stepping closer in order to hear her, “it was my mums, she gave it to me after my first concert sold out. Her mum gave it to her after she got married.” She runs her finger over it gently, noticing the worn edges, and tries to imagine the many stories it had experienced in the hands of three generations. “It’s beautiful.” 

This felt like a moment for both of them. Obviously, Harry and Y/N had experienced many conversations and experiences before, but none quite like this. Harry feels the warmth from her body radiating into his, can feel the sweat from her hands as she holds his own. He can hear her calm breathing, the slow rise and fall of her chest. Of course, Harry had felt lust before, but he doesn’t think he’s ever wanted to kiss someone as badly as he does right now.

He can’t explain how desperately he wants to inch forward, hold her pretty face in his hands and press his lips against hers. Instead, he makes do, moving closer to her and feeling a bloom of happiness in his chest when she opens her legs for him to stand between with no hesitation. 

She smiles, his hand still nestled into hers, although her focus had moved far beyond his rings. It now laid solely on his face and the way he was looking at her. He rests his free hand on the counter beside her, close enough that she could feel the outside of his thumb brushing against her upper leg. 

Harry bites his tongue, he wants to say ‘so are you,’ but even he knows that’s cheesy. Plus he doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries, he knows Y/N is attracted to him but is also fully aware that doesn’t equal consent. He settles for lightly brushing his thumb against her leg and watches as a shiver racks through her body. With a slight giggle, she grabs his other hand, that’s causing the mildly uncomfortable sensation, with her free one, “that tickles.” 

And Harry’s not a mind reader, but now they’re just holding hands, plain and simple. He doesn’t know if she feels the same heat and tension settling between their lips, but the way she leans in slightly, tilting her head to the left gives him an indication she does. It’s subtle, and if Harry hadn’t been sitting between her legs praying she’d do exactly that, he might not have picked up on it. But he does. 

He leans in too, leaving a slight gap between them. Y/N can feel the tiny puffs of air, leaving Harry’s mouth and drawing into hers and can feel the little tufts of hair tickling her forehead. 

She brushes her lips against his gently, testing the waters. He feels as soft and warm against her as she’d imagined. Y/N retracts slightly, unsure if she had overstepped a boundary. The only reaction she could read was a sharp inhale on his part, and she was worried that it wasn’t a positive sign. 

But she couldn’t have been more wrong. 

He lifts his hand from hers and places it against her neck, his hands big enough to tuck his thumb under her jaw, while still using the rest of his fingers to gently push her back against him.

She tasted so much better than he would’ve thought, sour from the margaritas with an underlying sweetness that he couldn’t put his finger on. Harry can barely hold in his groan when her tongue slides against his lower lip, and he gladly opens up further. He feels her whimper against his thumb before he hears it, the rumbling sending vibrations up his arm, leading him to feel dizzy. 

He feels Y/N rest her hands against his shoulders, sliding them over his neck and resting her forearms behind his head. She leans further into the kiss, somehow opening her legs further, her hips slightly bucking towards his own in a silent plea for friction. Harry doesn’t hesitate to give it to her, pressing himself against her and instantly feeling the effect of his actions. She runs one hand through the curls sitting at the back of his head, tugging gently and pushing her own hips back with as much vigour as he had.

That is until the click of heeled boots is heard echoing against the kitchen tiles. 

The speed at which Harry jumps away from his position between Y/N’s legs is comical, and she almost wishes she could see it from an outsiders perspective. However, not as much as she wishes Harry’s lips were back on her own. 

Y/N looks between the boy she had been kissing with his hair messy and fluffy, and the apparent growing bulge in his pants to the shocked Mitch standing in the entrance of the kitchen. His mouth hangs open comically, and his hands hang loosely by his sides. 

The silence is too much for both Harry and Y/N to bear and looking at Y/N’s face, now bright red, and brimming with embarrassment and stress Harry feels it’s his responsibility to put her slightly at ease. “Mitch… um look-” 

“What the fuck is going on here?” Harry doesn’t even get the chance to finish his sentence before Mitch is interrupting. Harry pipes up again, “it’s nothing!” Y/N can feel her brows turning downwards and the corner of her lips curling in annoyance. She knows Harry is more than likely trying to cover their asses, but Mitch had seen them kissing, and it didn’t make Harry downplaying everything hurt any less. 

Harry sees her face and quickly tries to backtrack, “well I mean not nothing… it’s something!” 

“No shit it’s something! How long have you guys been fucking for?” This time Y/N is the first to speak up, “we are not fucking! We haven’t even-“ she starts, completely flustered, her face somehow becoming even redder, “we just kissed!” Mitch bursts out laughing, as Y/N and Harry stay completely still, both absolutely mortified. 

“Alright mate, fuck off,” Harry grumbles, praying that Mitch would just leave the uncomfortable situation alone. And he does, still laughing as he finds his way back to the living room. Y/N has no doubt that he would go straight to Sarah and Jeff to share what he’d just seen. Harry turns to 

Y/N and while he tries to maintain a serious face for her sake, he can’t help but let out a small chuckle. 

It wasn’t the first time Mitch had walked in on him during a ‘private’ moment, some a lot worse than what he’d just witnessed. But Harry doubts any would be more shocking than the kiss Mitch had just seen. According to him, Y/N and Harry were at most on civil terms. So to see them, in a more than compromising position must have been a considerable shock to the system. 

“Why are you laughing, you ass?” While Y/N’s words are anything but kind, her face gives away her true feelings, a small grin peeking through. She wasn’t too concerned, Sarah already knew the current situation Harry and Y/N had found themselves in, as well as Y/N’s feelings on it. She was probably waiting for this very scenario to occur.

However, she was worried about where Harry and her would go from here. 

She knew he was attracted to her, he wouldn’t have kissed her otherwise. Y/N couldn’t help but think that maybe Harry had done it in the moment, and didn’t feel that same attraction all the time. What if he saw her leaning in and was pitying her? Y/N was terrified that now that Mitch knew, Harry would be too embarrassed to kiss her again. 

But Y/N’s worry is immediately put to hold when Harry grabs her hand again, “you’ve got to admit it’s funny.” He rubs his thumb against her knuckles, hoping to soothe any worry still running through her veins, “are you okay though?” Y/N smiles and squeezes his hand, “yeh, more than.” 

Harry leans in slowly, making sure that even though Y/N had claimed she was fine, that she would still be okay with him kissing her again. She doesn’t move away, instead moves closer and he smiles and presses a soft kiss against her lips. 

“We should probably get back out there,” he mumbles against her plush lips. She nods in response, squeezing his hand once more before jumping off the counter. “I’ll see you in the living room.” 

—— 

Harry didn’t regret kissing Y/N, not by a long shot. What he did regret, however, is two things. The first was agreeing to continue drinking with Mitch after everyone else had gone to sleep, and the second, kissing Y/N while intoxicated. 

He had enjoyed it, he knew that much. But he’s fully aware that he may not have gotten the chance to absorb every detail of the moment. He couldn’t forget the feeling of her lips against his or the way she bucked up against him. However, he is struggling to recall the way her hips felt under his fingertips, or whether or not he could smell the strawberry scented shampoo she used, that previously, he had only caught gusts of. 

Harry needs to know, when they kissed, did her eyebrows furrow the same way they do when she bites into a warm jam donut? Or when he slotted his hips against hers, did her mouth hang open, eyes shut tightly like when Sarah dug into the knots in her back? Did she make the same sounds Harry had already heard? Or were there some privy only to moments of privacy like the one her and Harry shared? He didn’t think to notice if the skin on her cheeks was as soft as it looked, or even if her hands held onto him as firmly as they had grasped onto the chair, the night Harry had first gotten so close to Y/N. 

Harry couldn’t help but feel like he’d somehow hiked up mountainous terrain, dodged every jagged edge Y/N initially threw at him, stumbled through open conversations and insinuations. Felt he had somehow navigated overwhelming selfishness and every mixed feeling, to finally reach the top and for some stupid reason just close his eyes. He was only just able to smell the mountainside air and feel the rocky surface but was utterly blind to the magnificent sight in front of him. 

Harry was also worried that Y/N was too intoxicated to know what she was doing. Harry was big on consent, always had been, and he knew the chances of drunk him doing something Y/N wasn’t okay with was very unlikely, but what if? What if for some reason he couldn’t read the body language of the girl he had spent months admiring? Or what if she had said something of opposition and he hadn’t heard her? 

Harry was stressed, and the pounding headache beating through his head was definitely not helping. 

He knew the only way to make sure what happened last night was okay and enjoyable for both parties, was simply asking Y/N. So after going to the bathroom, splashing some cold water on his face and changing into some sweatpants, Harry makes the trek downstairs. 

He’s met with an interesting site. Mitch is sitting at the kitchen counter, head in his hands and shaking his head. Jeff is doing dishes and looks to be purposely clanging noisy dishes in front of Mitch and then laughing at each flinch racking from the man's body. While Y/N is standing at the stove, cooking something that Harry can’t decipher, in her cloud pyjama pants and a sweatshirt that looks suspiciously like his.

If Harry listens intently enough, he can hear her humming under her breath, a soft tune that lifts all the features of Harry’s handsome face upwards. 

Harry starts by walking over to Mitch, placing his hands on both of his shoulders and squeezing lightly, “c’mon Jeff, lay off the poor guy!” Jeff only laughs in response jokingly swatting at Mitch's head, still buried within his hands. 

At the joking tone within the kitchen, and the fact that Jeff had not immediately berated Harry about his relationship with Y/N, Harry realised Mitch had decided not to tell the rest of the house. Or at least not Jeff. Harry couldn’t have been more thankful for Mitch's undying loyalty and bizarre talent of somehow knowing exactly what Harry wanted or needed. With Y/N’s relaxed manner, he assumed she had come to the same conclusion.  

At the sound of Harry’s voice, Y/N whips around, her face lighting up at the sight of the man she had kissed not 12 hours ago. And the look of delight and need on Y/N’s face works wonders to calm Harry’s nerves, while Y/N’s were skyrocketing. He looked as handsome as ever with sleep still gracing his features, his chestnut hair in a mess on top of his head and eyes slightly puffy and red. In all honesty, Y/N couldn’t get over how it felt to kiss him, and while it had happened, she couldn’t help but feel thirteen again, with a crush on the cute boy in class. 

It was like he knew exactly what she was thinking, his tongue darting out from between his lips, leaving them wet and glistening in the early morning sun. And Y/N just can’t seem to draw her attention away from them, can’t stop the image of him pressed against her replaying over and over in her mind.

Maybe it was the way her eyes drooped slightly, her nostrils flaring ever so subtly, but Y/N gets the feeling that he knows exactly what she’s thinking, his left eye dropping in a wink that leaves Y/N’s tummy fluttering. 

“Mornin’ love.” His voice is hoarse and deep with residue drowsiness, and it does nothing to ease Y/N’s churning stomach. She coughs lightly before replying, “morning H.” Her voice is uncharacteristically quiet and manner docile, as she tries to hide the less than appropriate thoughts running through her head. 

He walks over to the stove, leaving Jeff and Mitch behind in the presence of someone far more interesting. “Smells good, what are you cookin’?” 

Y/N giggles, the sound unnecessarily loud and she cringes at herself before replying, “um, pancakes. Made some more just in case you guys wanted some.” In truth, Y/N knew Mitch didn’t like pancakes, Sarah wasn’t even awake yet, and Jeff had just started a very strict ‘no sugar’ diet, and so those extra pancakes were specifically for Harry after she had heard his sink running upstairs. And well, Harry knew all of that too. He feels a certain spaciousness in his chest one can only attribute to gratitude, and it makes him want to draw her close to him and kiss her cheek in thanks. 

Instead, Harry grabs her small hand in his and squeezes it lightly, before walking over to the fridge to get the maple syrup. “What’d you want on yours, babe? Nutella?” 

Y/N smiles and nods her head, giddy with the tingling feeling travelling through her hands and the prospect of spending more time with Harry. 

—— 

The day had been quiet. Y/N felt as if she had been wading through water all afternoon, sluggish and slow but somehow using more energy than walking on land required. The whole house felt slow-moving, most of its inhabitants spending the day in front of the TV, reading books or napping. And so it made sense for their daily activity to be a movie night. 

The housemates had decided a Disney marathon would be a perfect end to a hungover day, and with Jeff’s only condition being that they watched ‘Bambi’, everyone was in agreeance. 

Y/N had offered to organise the snacks and drinks while everyone else brought down pillows and blankets from upstairs, the room looking cozier then she had seen it in the past few months, and at the centre of it, Harry.

In the same position, he had been in the night they had sat watching cartoons in the early morning together, only to fall asleep and wake up in each other’s arms. It felt like so long ago now, but Y/N knows in reality, not that much time had passed. She found herself feeling thankful for how their relationship had evolved, and the effect a little time had given them. 

It was funny how far they had come. Y/N was so worried Harry had hated her after that, she now wonders if he’d always felt some type of draw towards her, or if he really had hated her as much as he made out. She briefly wonders if he’s thinking the same thing as she is, as he looks at her questioningly, standing in the doorway of the living room, unmoving. 

Y/N smiles lightly, and begins to move towards the couch, realising that there were three blankets in total, one being used by Mitch and Sarah, seemingly very close underneath the cover, one thrown over Jeff and the other sitting across Harry’s legs. She hesitates for a moment, the obvious choice being Harry, but she isn’t sure where their relationship stood, and more importantly, how much the rest of the housemates knew about it. 

Harry quickly provides a solution, “y’can just share my blanket if you want pet.” Y/N’s tummy flips, but the blank stare she gives him as she runs through all the repercussions (good and bad) coming from her doing that, comes off more as confusion. Did he forget that Jeff didn’t know about the kiss? 

Harry sits uncomfortably in the silence. “Or not, whatever you want.” Silence again, and with each passing second, Harry’s facial expression becomes more and more exasperated. 

Mitch is smirking, giving Harry a knowing glance. Sarah is looking at Mitch confused, obviously trying to figure out her boyfriend's cryptic facial expression. Jeff was the most bewildered of all, clearly completely lost. 

“Fine, fuckin’ forget it. Y’can share a blanket with Jeff ‘Mcvomit’ Aezzof. Or maybe you can jack Mitch off under the blanket with Sarah, and all of us will pretend we don’t know. How bout that hm?” Harry knows he’s being slightly unfair to all those just mentioned. 

A month ago, during a game night, Jeff had consumed slightly too much alcohol and subsequently vomited all over the living room carpet and Harry’s rainbow Gucci boots. Safe to say, Harry was not impressed and hadn’t let Jeff forget it either. 

He also knows he’s being unfair to Sarah and Mitch, although, he’s not exactly wrong. Harry had no proof anything was happening under Sarah’s unicorn blanket but they always sat suspiciously close, and some strange movements had definitely been observed during movie nights, particularly when the crew had binged ‘50 Shades of Grey.’

No one had mentioned it to each other, until one night, Y/N had tried to subtly ask Jeff and Harry if they had noticed too. The two boys immediately agreed, admitting they both had their own suspicions. However, this was the first time anyone had brought it up with the couple in question. 

He’s instantly met with outcry from both Sarah and Mitch.

“Oh for fucks sake H.” 

“You’re so crude.” 

“We do not do that.” 

Jeff also looks unamused, mumbling under his breath, although the shouts from the couple drown his reply out, “you have too much to drink one time, and no one lets you forget it.” 

But Y/N, in true Y/N style laughs, and all of a sudden Harry doesn’t feel nearly as bad for his accusations or his teasing of Jeff. “Alright bug, alright. You made your point, scoot over.” 

Y/N settles under the blanket with Harry, tucking her legs underneath her, trying to maintain a healthy distance from him. She hadn’t really been so consciously close to Harry before, only ever being asleep, drunk or… busy. Y/N noticed his signature scent was present, a warm cedarwood cologne that somehow made her nostrils tickle and insides feel slightly warmer, like a shot of whiskey travelling down her throat and spreading through her tummy. 

Maybe it was the man the smell lingered to that made her feel so comfortable and warm, or perhaps it was the blanket and heat radiating from him, but either way, Y/N loved it. She revelled in the comfort and feeling of safety that she didn’t often bask in, and it was Harry of all people who made her feel like this. 

She briefly wonders what this movie night would entail. She was happy they were already close to each other, stealing glances. Each bout of eye contact bringing a tingle through her spine, a shiver wracking through her shoulders when she noticed him glancing at her with his signature smirk and bright look. 

She was aware that they were slowly moving closer to each other with each passing second of the film playing in front of them. When she had initially sat down next to Harry, she could feel the warmth radiating from him, but now she could feel his side pressed against her, and his leg slightly crossed over hers.

If she’s honest, she was much more focused on the handsome individual sitting next to her than on the movie anyway, and consequently, she missed the first twenty minutes. 

What she cannot miss, however, is Harry’s hand coming to rest gently on her thigh. His palm flat against the plush flesh and his nails lightly scratching at the skin lying over it. 

She looks over at him, his strong jaw and cheekbone highlighted by the dim light of the TV screen, his nose slightly pointed at the end and his long eyelashes fluttering against his skin. She watches as his pink lips tug upwards, bringing a smirk and deep dimple to his handsome face. With that smile, she realises he knows she’s looking at him, and probably knows the effect his touch is having on her. The only acknowledgement she receives is a small squeeze of her thigh. 

She can’t help but scoff, his lax attitude directly opposed her own, if she was honest, she often felt on a different plane than him. Y/N tried to deny it, but she could be highly strung. When she was in a situation where she felt comfortable and safe, she was easygoing, a delight to get along with, and was often confused as someone who was undoubtedly more affable than she really was. 

It was one of the first days of year ten at school when Y/N had experienced her first panic attack. She can still remember the way her hands shook like healthy green leaves in a summer storm, could never forget the tightness in her chest, the closing feeling of her throat, and the tears that blinded her. While the panic attacks had become less frequent as she aged, the underlying symptoms that bubbled into the panic she experienced still tended to rear their ugly heads. 

Harry, on the other hand, seemed endlessly relaxed. While Y/N had initially only seen a more uptight and priggish side of him, it was almost like he enjoyed those negative interactions between them, for the sole reason that he could skillfully get under Y/N’s skin, watch her squirm and burn red. Any other time she witnessed Harry he was almost always equanimous and the voice of reason in the odd little group that found themselves quarantining together. 

He was so comfortable, seemingly so unaffected by her, while she felt his presence made her head spin and heart race. 

He leans closer to her, his curls tickling her collarbone, “are you watchin’ the film?” 

She nods, the action sending a wave of her perfume to invade his nose, the smell somehow so addicting and familiar to Harry now. “Yeh, the sad part is coming soon, though.” 

It’s his turn to scoff, “don’t tell me you’re gonna cry on me.” 

Y/N looks up at him, watching as his bunny-like front teeth capture his bottom lip, “and what if I do, hm?” 

Harry’s first thought is to say he’d get her some tissues and embrace her until the tears seeped into her sullen soaked skin, but he knows that’s even too corny for him. Instead, he looks around the room to find everyone too focused on the movie to pay attention to them, and chuckles lightly, kissing the top of her cheekbone. “Might cry with you love. Poor Bambi, never knew what was comin’.” 

While Y/N looks around the room, she quickly relaxes as she realises no one was paying enough attention to notice Harry’s affectionate action. She stifles a laugh, “we’re in this together then, aren’t we?” 

Harry can’t help but feel like she’s not just referring to a sad Disney movie, but instead the situation they had found themselves in. It was confusing, both of them not entirely over their exes, but both seemingly enamoured with the other, something that felt like it had happened overnight. 

He didn’t know if she felt the same way he did. He simultaneously wanted to fuck the shit out of her and cuddle with her on the couch, for god's sake he wanted to comfort her when she was crying over fucking ‘Bambi.’ Harry was confused. 

He hasn’t felt like this about anyone since Elle, and while Y/N hadn’t spoken about her ex with Harry directly, he had overheard a few snippets of conversation between Sarah and herself. 

Before Y/N had come to stay with the group, Sarah had briefly explained the situation, the fact she had put all her effort into a three-year relationship that had ended brutally, with the asshole showing no remorse towards Y/N or her feelings. Harry didn’t want to push her or himself, but he felt a draw towards her that he couldn’t ignore. 

The way she placed her hand gently on top of his, still laying on her thigh, and tangled their fingers together made his heart swell, and it was at that moment he decided he didn’t care about Elle. For the first time since they broke up, Harry didn’t wish the person he was with was his cheery faced ex-girlfriend. He wanted Y/N, and he hoped with all his heart, she wanted him too. 

He looked over at her, her soft skin and red cheeks glowing gently from the light of the TV screen. 

Harry’s feelings are only confirmed, when he hears the gunshot sounding through the room from the movie, hears a small sniffle coming from the girl next to him, and feels her fingers tightening around his own. Harry knows that somehow, through everything, he wanted Y/N to be there next to him at the end of it. 

—— 

Harry sat stewing in his feelings as the night progressed, each member of the house slowly abandoning the marathon, opting for the warmth of their beds instead. 

If he was honest, Harry was exhausted, but he couldn’t bear to leave Y/N alone. She had waited patiently through everyone else’s choices, sung along with Sarah through ‘The Little Mermaid.’ She had gushed with Mitch over the fantastic visuals in ‘Hercules’ and watched carefully for Harry’s reactions to ‘The Beauty and the Beast,’ squeezing his hand when the last petal fell, and Belle professed her love for the Beast. 

Harry didn’t think it was fair that everyone had chosen bed over watching Y/N’s movie, over singing along to ‘Tangled’ with her. Chosen to sleep instead of talking about how good the animation was and squeezing her hand every time Flynn and Rapunzel were close to kissing. 

So Harry does the best he can. He listens to how excited she gets through the fighting scenes, does his best to sing along to songs he’d never heard before, and listens to her speak about how mean she thought Mother Gothel was. Each scene, he watches her eyes widen in comical child-like glee, and her cheeks flush as she laughs at Harry’s impersonation of Flynn Rider. 

It’s as Mother Gothel is falling out of the window that Harry realises Y/N’s grip on his hand has loosened and that she is resting against his shoulder, asleep. He smiles, bringing his knuckle to brush against her cheek, gently waking her up. As she slightly startles, he kisses her nose, “y’ fell asleep bug.” 

She looks surprised, immediately looking to the screen, “oh shoot. Missed my favourite part too.” Harry can’t help but kiss the small pout that graced her lips as she realises this, which she quickly returns. Harry’s lips tingle as she hums in contentment, causing them to pull apart slightly, Harry touching his lips and giggling. 

It was all so domestic and sweet, a kiss leading to nothing in particular, and Harry loved it. Revelled in the idea of kissing Y/N for the pure pleasure of feeling her soft lips against his own, and for nothing else. As Y/N speaks her lips brush against his, still flush against each other, “we should get to bed.” 

As they both make their way upstairs, hand in hand, they dawdle as if to stall their inevitable parting, and as Y/N prepares to speak their goodbye into existence Harry decides he doesn’t want this night to end. Didn’t want to part from the warmth Y/N provided, to lose the feeling of her face pressed against him or the way her hand felt nestled in his. So Harry does the one thing he can think of, something he may come to regret later, 

“Do you want t’ sleep in my bed tonight? You don’ have to if you don’t want to, of course.” 

Harry observes Y/N’s face, and he feels as if he goes through the same range of emotions as she does. First surprise, then apprehension, her head tilting as she thinks through her decision.

Harry thinks maybe she’s misinterpreting his intentions. Don’t get him wrong, he would jump at the chance to have sex with someone as lovely as her, but he really just wasn’t ready to leave her. Wanted to feel her asleep in his arms, hear the small snores he’s sure she would make and brush her hair away from her face when it looked to be tickling her in the middle of the night. 

“No funny business dove, I promise.” 

Finally, a small smirk graces the young girl's face, her top teeth hooking into her lower lip, a little giggle erupting from her mouth while she nods her head. 

Harry’s face subconsciously matches Y/N’s, a replica giggle floating through his mouth and into the air between them, “yeh?” 

She nods once again, “yeh.” Harry feels nothing but relief, a giddy bubbling feeling erupting from his chest, rushing through to his fingertips. He almost believes she feels the exact same burst of emotion when she squeezes his hand as he pulls her into his bedroom. 

It smells the same as the last time she was in his room, except this time, there was a sense of certainty in the air. While Y/N had previously tiptoed into his private space, terrified of crossing a line both physically and metaphorically, she no longer felt that same apprehension.

She entered the room with confident footsteps, aware that they had already entered a territory in which they would struggle to backtrack from. Aware that Harry would more than likely revel in the fact she was in a space he considered sacred, rather than feel uneasy.

She was correct in her assumption. He watches the way she looks perfectly placed in a room he previously hated anyone else entering, her energy already matching his own, but somehow adding an exuberant light into a space that, before her, had represented his despondency. 

Harry begins getting ready for bed, takes off his pants and shirt, left in only boxers. As the cotton of his top slides over his mass of curls, he catches Y/N staring, her mouth slightly parted, pupils dilated and cheeks pink. 

The cocky boy smirks slightly, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion ever so subtly, and a gust of wind passing through his nose as a form of laughter. “Would you prefer me to keep my pants on babe?” 

His cheeky tone works to bring Y/N from her stupor. She stumbles over her words, clearly embarrassed Harry had caught her ogling at his body, again. “Uh.. no, no whatever’s comfortable, I guess. Do you want to keep your pants on? You can, of course, I just…” 

“Teasing Y/N,” his smirk grows into a grin, his dimple flashing her once again, “I’m only teasing.” She visibly relaxes, her shoulders returning to the normal position, and her eyes closed, trying to shake the remaining embarrassment from her system. 

“You are the worst.” 

He only laughs, “and you take yourself too seriously. Now, do you want a shirt to sleep in?” 

While Y/N might usually be offended by him saying something like that, she knows he’s not wrong. In fact, he’s entirely correct. He just knew exactly how to wind her up, what buttons to push to make a flush rise to her cheeks and for her sentences to become stuttered. 

“That would be nice, thank you.” 

Harry only nods, walking over to the dresser in the corner and rummaging through, pulling out a white shirt with the phrase “enjoy health, eat your honey” on the front. He holds it up in front of his body, waiting for Y/N’s approval, which he quickly receives, throwing it over to her in response. 

She looks at him expectantly, waiting for him to give her the courtesy of changing in private. “Do y’ mind, you lecher?” 

He startles, “oh uh sorry.” Y/N watches as a blush spreads from his cheeks to his neck, a clear sign of his humiliation, and he quickly turns around. 

She changes, giving a soft cough when it’s safe for him to turn around. Harry can hardly believe his eyes, he knew she was beautiful, but fucking hell, it was like an angel had been sent to him from heaven. 

Her legs were soft, and Harry wanted nothing more than to trail kisses up her thighs, past the dotting of stretch marks, patches of missed hair, and the hem of the shirt that sat loosely against her. He could see her nipples poking through the fabric, firm, surrounded by supple flesh, that Harry had trouble to stop imagining. Her face was soft, a pleasant but embarrassed smile pulling along half her face, smoothed by the leftover makeup she hadn’t bothered to remove. 

She was fucking beautiful. 

“Stop looking at me like that you…” 

“Lecher. I know. It’s hard not to be when you look like that.” Her cheeks turn an even darker shade of crimson, and her eyebrows draw up in surprise. Harry didn’t know at what, she was his very own wet dream, and he had trouble imagining that she didn’t know that. 

Unsure of what to say she patters towards the bed, lifting the covers and lying beneath them, facing the side he usually slept on, waiting for Harry to lay in her line of sight. He does, his cheek getting gently squished against the silk pillow, his hair billowing out from his head, creating an unruly mess around his face. 

“I don’t…” she sighs, clearly struggling to string together whatever was going through her mind. Harry grabs the hand laying between them, and gives it a gentle squeeze of encouragement. He had been vulnerable in front of her weeks before they had even shown interest in each other, and he wanted to give her the same comfortable space to talk through what she was feeling. 

She lets out another breath and continues, “I like when you call me beautiful. I just don’t know how to respond, I’m not all that used to it.” She snorts despite herself, “isn’t that sad?” While she’s laughing, Harry can see the sadness set behind her eyes, and so he doesn’t laugh. Only squeezes her hand once more and replies as steadily as he can, “it’s not sad. I understand.” 

Her laugh turns more genuine, “oh so even the Greek god gets self-conscious? Thank god for that.” He quickly matches her jesting tone, “for sure, need to be humbled somehow.” He pulls her closer and rests his head in the crook of her neck, listening as the giggles she emits, vibrate through her body, and he can’t help but smile too. 

He was happy and at peace. And for the first time in a long time, both he and Y/N slept through the night, relief and giddiness seeping through their pores. 

——

Harry awoke in a daze. His arm was numb, his head slightly dizzy and body just a tad too hot. Then he sees Y/N asleep in front of him, head resting on his bicep, hair a mess, and her hand resting on his, placed on the pillow in front of her face, and all of a sudden none of it mattered.

She was beautiful. It makes Harry wonder about the last time they’d woken up together. He remembers feeling scared, denying any comfort he had found within her in his arms, and he wonders if his subconscious had always known she was right for him. 

They seemed to fit together so seamlessly, for a couple who couldn’t stand the sight of each other months prior. 

Harry uses his free hand to sweep her hair away from her neck, leaving a space for him to press his lips against. Her skin was warm, slightly tacky from sweat, and he breathed her in, dragging his nose up and down the nape of her neck. 

He hears her begin to wake, repositioning her legs under the covers and her breath beginning to quicken from the lull of sleep. A small hum of contentment leaves her lips as she feels Harry’s mouth kissing on her skin. 

“Mornin’ sunshine,” he whispers, his breath tickling her. She lets out a laugh, her voice heavy with drowsiness, “morning H.” 

The hand that was already resting loosely in his tightens as she loops their fingers together, “how’d you sleep?” 

He squeezes back, “better than I have in months. What ‘bout you?” 

She leans further back into him and exhales, “so good.” Harry hears the relief in her voice, and he feels it too. Was this all it took to stop his own self wallowing? Being pressed against her? It was like she brought her own kind of calmness to his unstable mind, and while he knew she would disagree with him in saying it, she was a source of purity, a way for him to feel carefree. 

He wanted to tell her, but something was stopping him. What if she wasn’t quite as committed to whatever they were as he was? Harry had never been good with his feelings, preferring to write his emotions into his music. Fuck, sometimes even selling his songs to others to avoid the message coming from his own mouth directly. 

But as Y/N turns around, her mouth inches from his, her eyes wide and doe-like, Harry thinks he’d never be able to live with himself if he didn’t tell her how he felt. The words creep up his throat, and he tastes them on his tongue, sweet and rich. “I... I really like you. I’m not sure how you feel about everything. I just know I haven’t felt like this since… well for a while, and that’s kind of scary.” 

Harry closes his eyes, not wanting to see Y/N laugh in his face, as well as hear it. Instead, he feels a soft hand on the side of his face, her thumb gently brushing against his temple, and then softly against his eyelid, coming to rest just below it. “Open your eyes, dummy.” 

He flutters his eyes open, met with Y/N’s gaze, revering and sweet, “I like you too, Harry. Thought I made it pretty obvious.” While Harry loved Y/N calling him ‘H,’ the slow drawl of ‘Harry’ made a shiver roll up his spine.  

He can hardly contain the smile that slips upon his mouth, leaning up slightly and kissing the thumb resting against his skin. Harry feels his heart beat a little harder in his chest, the relief freeing the worry from his lungs, his muscles finally relaxing, no longer having to uphold the weight of stress upon them. 

If he was candid, Harry had never had to fight for anyone’s affection before. As narcissistic as it sounded, people usually gravitated towards him, whether for the right or wrong intentions. But Y/N had stood her ground, immediately unimpressed by his blase and borderline rude attitude and had reverberated his energy right back at him. If Harry was honest, at first he hated that about her, but it had come to represent her honesty. It made the affection she showed him now that much more special. 

Harry felt as if he had earnt her respect and affection, because he deserved it, not the ‘Harry Styles’ found in the tabloids. He had found someone who made him feel like a real person, and a good one at that, someone who deserved the love she so readily gave him. Harry was lucky enough to be lying next to that someone. 

“You’re right… you did drool over me in the shower. Remember that?” And just like that, the moment of vulnerability is over. 

Y/N lightly slaps Harry’s arm and lets out a disgruntled sound, “aish, you really are a lecher.” He laughs and grabs the hand that just hit him, bringing it back up to his face and kisses her palm gently. He looks back at her face, all traces of aggravation wiped from it like cheap lipstick, replaced with contentment instead. She slips her hand back to the side of his neck, her fingertips trailing through the baby hairs laying against his skin and kisses him. Her lips feel slightly chapped but still so warm, and Harry let’s out a relieved exhale. 

He couldn’t explain why, but this kiss felt different from any other he’d experienced with Y/N, hell any other he’d shared with anyone. It had all the intensity and lust of their kiss in the kitchen, added with a sense of emotion that Harry couldn’t quite place. Each press of her mouth, each swipe of her tongue or gentle nibble of his lower lip felt like she was desperately trying to convey every feeling Harry previously doubted existed. 

Harry remembers the night of their first kiss, recalls thinking he had never felt lust like that before, never wanted to kiss someone so badly, but now laying in this bed with Y/N running her hand through his hair and her hips lightly bucking towards him, Harry feels as if he’s surpassed the way he had felt then. 

He feels pure unadulterated need flowing through his veins, can’t even begin to explain how much he wanted Y/N. She turned to fully face him, tangling their feet together and pressing herself further into the kiss. Harry wishes he could give her more, wants to bring every drop of pleasure to her he possibly could, wants to touch and kiss each part of her. It felt as if a spark had lit within his body, beginning at his chest, travelling all the way through to his fingertips, and straight to his groin. 

Harry brings his thigh between her legs, and she takes advantage of it instantly, rubbing against him. He groans as he feels her warmth pressed against his leg, and he can tell she is suppressing her moans of pleasure as she pushes down harder with each gyration of her hips. 

“Tha’s it baby, get what you need.” 

At this, she leans her head back, a mewl erupting from her throat. Harry kisses down her exposed neck, sucking and nipping a love bite into the skin below him. Bringing his hands to her waist lightly, he helps to guide her in grinding against the thick muscle of his leg. 

She grabs one of his hands grappling at her hip and brings it to her chest, where he feels her hard nipple poking through the thin material of her top. He squeezes and pinches gently, hearing her breath hitch directly in his ear, bringing goosebumps to the skin along his arms, her hands grabbing his broad shoulders and neck. 

With his other hand, he slowly slips his thumb past the hem of her sweatpants, running it along the soft skin there. The tickling sensation completely contradicts the harsh action of her hips rubbing against him, causing a shiver to trickle down her spine. Y/N whines into his ear so quietly, Harry wonders if he actually heard her at all. “Please.” 

“What do you need, hm? Tell me.” 

A bated breath parts her lips, “fuck…anything.” She knows it’s not enough, knows Harry wants to hear exactly what she wants from him, but she’s embarrassed. Isn’t quite used to anyone asking her what she wanted and needed, and Harry’s filthy tongue only brings her more unnecessary shame. 

“C’mon Y/N, use your words. I’ll give you whatever you want, just use your word’s for me.” 

Her hands dig into his shoulders, “fingers, please!”

He kisses her temple and murmurs a quick, “good girl,” before dipping his hand completely into the front of her pants, still only teasing along the line of her underwear. 

Y/N’s not sure how much she can take. Every move, every touch is goading and light, clearly trying to provoke her, and as much as she loves it, she needs relief. She grabs at his arm that is currently so close to the place she needs him to be and tries to force it closer to her, harder against her, anything other than what he’s doing now. “Harry… c’mon, please,” she all but cries. 

He chuckles before slipping into her underwear, feeling her wet heat against his fingertips, she was already dripping for him before he’d even touched her. He presses her clit gently while he kisses against her neck, flicking his tongue against the ghost of the hickey he had given her earlier, the pain mixing so deliciously with the pleasure. 

While he had stopped his teasing touches, it didn’t stop him from using his teasing words. 

“This the first time you’ve gotten so wet for me, pet?” She furrows her eyebrows, shaking her head side to side, attempting to hide her face into his neck. He feigns surprise, “no? Filthy girl. Ever touched yourself thinking about me?” She whines, picking up on his teasing, further burrowing her face away from him, trying to hide the very obvious flush that had risen to her cheeks. 

He laughs, nudging her head with his nose, trying to encourage her to show her face again. She mewls once more, the only indication she heard him was the bucking of her hips against his fingers, now inside of her and stroking against her g-spot. 

“Next time, just ask for my help instead,” he murmurs into her ear, biting at her earlobe. She hisses, attempting to press against him even harder, get even closer to him, although it was almost impossible, being pressed flush against each other with his fingers knuckle deep in her cunt. 

He licks against her jaw, feeling the strong bone under the tender flesh, the warmth of his breath blowing against the damp skin of her neck causes her to shiver, “can I taste you?” Y/N doesn’t think she’s ever nodded her head harder, her eyes rolling back into her head, merely thinking about Harry tonguing the sensitive skin between her legs. 

He continues to kiss down her neck, taking extra time to lick against the dip in her collarbones, revelling in the tangy taste of sweat invading his mouth. He sucks her nipples through her shirt, the material clearly wet and spit-soaked once he pulls away, the air surrounding them, making the outline of her areola obvious. 

He presses a few chaste kisses against the swell of her tummy, finally reaching where she needed him most. He slowly pulls her pants down her legs, trailing the hem with pecks against each inch of newly exposed skin. Grabbing each ankle, he pulls the cuffing over her feet, playfully biting at the bone on her ankle, causing a shriek and a giggle to erupt from her and a playful press against his cheek, imitating a kick to his jaw. 

He laughs, batting her foot away from his face. “Oi don’t damage the money-maker!” 

 Y/N bursts out laughing, shaking her head. He was an idiot, but she loved that they can switch between moods so quickly. While she’s still laughing, he’s pushing her legs apart, his hand nearly fitting over the whole surface of her inner thigh. “C’mon love, spread your legs fo’ me.” 

And with that, Y/N stops laughing. 

While continuing to push against her leg, he presses an open mouth kiss against the front of her underwear, already able to taste the heady flavour. Harry can’t help but let out a deep groan, every nerve ending set alight at his mouth finally around her cunt. The tip of Y/N’s tongue tingles with a beg for him to take off her underwear, but Harry acts on his own accord, almost ripping the garment off in his haste. 

If Harry thought the taste of her was mouthwatering through the cotton, the taste of her without it was even better. 

He had meant to tease her, he really had, but he can’t help but lick straight into her weeping hole, moaning at the taste and the smooth feeling of her smeared against his mouth. Spreading her lips with his pointer and ring finger, Harry continues to explore, flicking his tongue against the swollen bud underneath her pubic bone, causing a loud moan to erupt from her mouth. 

“Holy fuck Harry! Feels so good.” 

Harry tucks two of his fingers into her while sucking at her clit, Y/N tugging at his curls harshly in response. 

It feels so good, but Y/N needs more. The feeling of Harry’s fingers is making her skin tingle, and her legs shake, but she wants nothing more than to be stretched out by him. She wants him to give her everything, push into her slowly, stretch her pussy, and finally feel his cum spurting into her. 

So she pulls him up, one hand still intertwined in his hair and the other on his shoulder, scratching and pulling as a hint to bring his mouth to hers. At first, he’s hesitant, grumbling slightly in annoyance, not wanting to part from her, “Harry please, want to kiss you.” 

He gives her one more harsh suck, before sliding back up her body, where Y/N is waiting with her mouth open and her eyes on him. Harry smirks, slipping the two fingers that had just been inside of her against her tongue, feeling more blood rushing between his legs at the feeling of her licking and sucking them as if it were his cock. 

She bites gently, causing a hiss to escape from his mouth as he drags them back out slowly, quickly replacing his fingers with his lips, licking into her mouth.

The tangy taste of her own cum slips past her tastebuds again, and Y/N had never been one to find it hot, but with the salty flavour transferring from Harry’s fingers and tongue, she’d never been more attracted to her own taste. 

Y/N desperately wants to mix his cum with hers, wants to swallow around his cock and feel the intoxicating mixture slide down her throat, “I wanna taste you now.” 

He breathes through his nose heavily and shakes his head, “just want to feel you. ‘M not gonna last long if you suck me off as well.” Y/N whines, but by the longing look Harry gives her pouting lips, it seems he’s not entirely content with his decision either. 

He reaches over her shoulder, digging into the set of drawers next to the bed, giving Y/N the perfect view of his broad chest, littered with tattoos. He looks so tan, his muscles rippling under the smooth skin, and she wants nothing more than to litter it with love bites and scratches. She teasingly licks at his nipple, and he startles, an uncharacteristic giggle leaving his lips as he comes back to lie in front of her, in his hand a condom. 

Suddenly his eyes clear, the lust caused fog fading, “you still okay with this? We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” 

Her heart swells, how was it possible that this Adonis-like man was also so sweet? There was nothing she wanted more than to be with Harry in every way and right now, she needed him inside of her, “yes Harry. Do you?” 

He scoffs some, “fuck yes,” he mumbles his next statement as he tucks his head under her jaw, putting the condom on at the same time, “feel like my dicks gonna fall off, I’m that hard.” 

She laughs, wrapping her arms around him, she’d never felt so happy and complete, so overwhelmed. Every positive emotion was combining within her, creating a whirlwind of passion and love, causing each feeling to increase tenfold. 

The head of Harry’s cock slips through her folds, sending a zap of pleasure through her each time it nudges her clit, and he smirks each time she twitches, unconsciously arching up towards him. “Y’ ready?” 

She nods, moving her hips closer, making her own attempt to be filled by him. 

Slowly, Harry enters her, each inch causing the delicious burn from him stretching her walls increasing. Y/N almost chokes on her own moans, can hardly stand how good he feels or the way her muscles spasm attempting to adjust to the intrusion. It feels as if each ridge and curve was being simulated, each nerve ending firing again and making her head feel dizzy. 

Harry almost looks like he’s in pain with his eyes shut so tightly, Y/N can see the wrinkles surrounding them. His mouth is parted with sharp breaths entering and leaving his mouth, his head hung back, and his jawline sharp enough to cut glass. 

“Holy fuck. You feel so fucking good.” 

At the sound of his voice, Y/N clenches, making Harry cry out. “Move H. Fuck me, please.” 

He begins slowly, pulling out before slamming back into her, reaching so far Y/N can feel him in her tummy. 

He intertwines their fingers and holds them against the pillow her head rests on. She squeezes them, and he leans his forehead against hers, the tender action contradicting the harsh snaps of his hips. “How do you feel so good?” He whimpers. She nudges his chin with her nose, pushing his lips closer to hers, each thrust smearing them closer together. 

“You’re so good to me H,” she whispers back as she wraps one of her hands behind his head, his neck in the crook of her elbow. Using leverage from her other hand against the bed, she pushes her hips upwards, creating double the amount of friction between them. The actions causing both of them to cry out, Harry seeming to be pushed impossibly further inside of her, the head of him nudging against her cervix. 

“Fuck that’s it. Look at you, usin’ me to get yourself off.”

While the new angle felt so good, it was quickly tiring. Harry could see Y/N fatiguing after a few minutes, knowing the burn in her legs would be almost unbearable at this point. So he tucks his arms under her outstretched ones, laying his torso against hers and tucking his head into her neck, kissing lightly as he completely slows down his movements. He stops the whine that leaves her throat with a quick, “shh, it’s okay. Just wanna take my time with you, never want this to end.” 

While running her hand through his curls and holding the back of his neck closer to her chest, she replies, “me either baby.” 

They spend some time like this, just enjoying each other’s company and the feel of being so close to one another. Y/N breathes deeply, the smell of sex in the room mixing with Harry’s cologne, making her relax and let out a contented sigh. She had never felt more full and so satisfied, with a hint of an orgasm sparking between her hip bones, the dull ember just waiting to be fully ignited by his movements. 

As if sensing this, he speeds up once again. The burn that stretches through her legs as Harry pulls them over his shoulders, mixes with the pleasure of his thrusts, the head of his cock nudging her g-spot with each deep drive of his hips. 

Y/N cries out, grabbing at his shoulders, her nails unintentionally digging into the skin, creating small red crescents along the tense muscles connecting his neck to his scapula. 

He just feels so good. Every movement of his hips, each inhale and exhale, each brush of their lips and dig of his fingers brings Y/N even closer to her orgasm. She can’t tell if Harry plans each of these things with her pleasure in regard or if it’s the chemistry between them that’s causing every sensation to be felt tenfold. All she knows is that she would happily lie under Harry for the rest of her life if it meant she always felt this weightless. 

Harry’s balls make a sharp ‘thwack’ against her ass each time he thrusts, the sound of her arousal echoing through the room, in such a crude fashion, Y/N almost has time to feel embarrassed. On the other hand, Harry revels in the sound, loves the fact he can see, hear, touch every part of her arousal, surrounding them in their own cocoon of sex and pleasure. 

“C’mon Y/N, please. Cum on my cock.” While Y/N had already been feeling the building pressure of her impending orgasm, Harry’s words only work to bring it faster. “Please Y/N,” she bucks up against him, chasing the feeling of his pubic bone rubbing against her already sensitive clit. “Good girl. Fuck, you’re my good fucking girl, aren’t you?” She whines a response, the noise high pitched and hoarse. Harry sees Y/N’s desperate search for her finish, and brings two fingers down, rubbing at her clit. 

“Fuck, yes, Harry!” Y/N can’t describe how overwhelmed she is with pleasure and feeling. Her face feels flushed and sticky with sweat, her legs are slightly cramped from her constant strain to get closer to Harry and his cock buried in her cunt, and when Harry brings one of his ring adorned hands to wrap comfortably around her neck, suddenly Y/N feels weightless. She feels the burst of pleasure from between her legs, a zip running up her spine, leaving her limbs with a tingle. 

Harry hears her cum before he sees it, the moans dripping from her mouth, her eyes widening before she’s squeezing them tightly together. Harry knew he would play that exact moment on replay for the rest of his fucking life. 

He watches as she brings her hand up to his that’s still spread around her neck, and Harry almost can’t stand it when he feels her squeezing it tighter, begging for Harry to give her more. If he wasn’t so close to cumming, Harry might’ve teased her, loosened his grip on purpose to watch her squirm and whine, whisper in her ear how hot it was to see how desperate she was for Harry to simply touch her, alas he’s too close. Can barely form a coherent thought, let alone tease her. So instead he appeases her, tightens his grips and begins to pound into her harder, searching for his own release.

Finally, it comes, Harry releasing a deep groan, grabbing onto the pillow next to her head, letting out a deep moan. Both of them can feel each rope of cum, as Y/N’s own orgasm works to milk each drop from him. 

His movements slowly come to a stop, leaving him tucked inside of her as his length softens. Wrapping his arms around her once again, he revels in the warmth and comfort she brings, his lips pressing against hers gently. “Fuckin’ hell.” 

Y/N giggles and nods in agreement. How had they spent so long fighting when this was the result of them getting along. She still feels Harry shifting above her, the aftershocks of her orgasm, creating an increase in sensitivity, each movement from the handsome boy above her sending a jolt through her whole body. 

“Fuck you’re still squeezin’ me pet.” She hugs into him tighter as yet another twitch is brought from his prick still buried deep within her, “mhm, still sensitive but you feel so good.” 

He kisses her soft temple, “lucky for you, in about fifteen minutes, we can go again.” Y/N scoffs, her head leaving the crook of his neck to give him a dirty look only to be met with his deep smirk. His famous dimples indented next to his smile, as he giggles and brushes his nose against the swell of her cheek. 

“You really are…” his giggle is joined by her own. 

“A lecher,” they finish together. 

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry #harry styles writing #writing #thank god this is finally finished #holy shit #let me know what you think #i love u #harries

[queenshelby]

My Friend’s Father (Part Eleven)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Age Gap, Smut, Domestic Violence, Angst

Words: 1,566

Please comment and interact…it’s what keeps this blog going

***************************

‘Jesus Amalie’ Cillian gasped as he pulled away from her in less than a second, causing Amalie to display some form of disappointment.

‘This is inappropriate. I think you realise that’ Cillian then said calmly before telling Amalie to cover up. He didn’t want Denise to walk in on them and get the wrong idea.

‘I am sorry. I thought that, perhaps, you might be attracted to me. Most men are’ Amalie said a little surprised but without any hesitation at all, causing Cillian to cock an eyebrow.

‘Well, I am not. Sorry’ Cillian said, shaking his head in surprise about her bluntness.

‘Sure? Because it could stay between us, you know? Even if you have someone, that’s fine with me’ Amalie said, running her hands over Cillian’s chest.

‘I am sure Amalie and I am going to be straight to be honest with you. Even if I wasn’t seeing anyone else, I wouldn’t be interested, alright?’ he said firmly, moving her hands away from him and causing Amalie to nod.

‘I am sorry’ she then said, causing Cillian to chuckle.

‘Alright…have a good night, okay?’ he then said, almost amused by the situation, before walking into his bedroom.

***

By the point he walked into his bedroom, his phone had gone off four times already as you had decided that you were bored.

You had sent him one picture after another followed by a question.

“Which set of lingerie should I wear for you when you get here on Friday? Xx” you texted, causing Cillian to gasp and stare before picking up the phone and call you.

“You are killing me with those pictures you know that?” he whispered and you couldn’t help but laugh about his reaction. You were still wearing lingerie in all of the photographs you had sent him and, yet, he was clearly turned on by them.

“I am sorry, I just can’t wait to see you again” you responded and Cillian was quick to tell you that he couldn’t wait either before informing you about what happened with Amalie.

“I don’t blame her, you know” you told him before reminding him on the night you seduced him rather bluntly as well.

“That was a little different though” Cillian chuckled but you didn’t think that it was different at all. In fact, the situation was quite similar and the only difference was that the feeling of attraction between you and Cillian was mutual.

“If you wouldn’t have me, would you have…?” you asked and, before you could finish your sentence, Cillian interrupted you.

“No, she’s not my type at all” Cillian said without hesitation.

“So, what is your type then?” you asked curiously.

“Intelligent women, who are down to earth and funny and, of course, there needs to be physical attraction too and, whilst Amalie is pretty, she’s lacking something…for me at least” he explained quietly so that no one could hear.

“Good” you said, before asking him about his choice of lingerie again and he outright told you that he didn’t care because, whatever you choose to wear, would come off rather quickly anyway.

Matters escalated from there and, after talking about Amalie’s actions, you reached the point where you felt as though you needed to mark your territory in some way.

*** Phone Sex ***

You: So, once the lingerie comes off, what would you do to me?

Cillian: I think I would want spend an extraordinary amount of time in between your legs, making love to you with my tongue.

You: Hmm, you are so good at that too. I honestly can’t wait Cillian. I might need to pleasure myself tonight just at the thought of it

Cillian: It drives me wild thinking of you pleasuring yourself, especially without me there. So, are you going to?

You: Already started.

Cillian: That was quick.

You: I told you earlier, I'm in the mood. There is no stopping me.

Cillian: Are you naked?

You: I am naked on your bed with my fingers inside my pussy.

Cillian: Do you have a vibrator?

You: Maybe.

Cillian: That’s a yes…use it.

You: Are you naked?

Cillian: Not yet.

You: Take off your clothes.

Cillian: Alright.

You: Are you hard?

Cillian: I’ve been hard for a while.

You: Stroke your cock for me.

Cillian: Already started. Have you found your vibrator yet?

You: Yes, can’t you hear it buzzing away?

Cillian: Is it deep inside you?

You: As far as it'll go. Circling around inside me. It feels lovely. But your cock would feel so much better inside me.

Cillian: Fuck babe, I can just imagine what you look like spread out across my bed with your vibrator inside you.

You: Do you want a picture?

Cillian: You know I do.

You: Alright, keep stroking your cock for me and I will send you one.

[Sent Picture]

Cillian: Fuck.

You: I knew you would like it. Now tell me, what would you do to me if you found me on your big bed like this?

Cillian: I would get rid of the vibrator and replace it with my tongue and fingers.

You: Ummhh. Sounds nice. I'd like that.

Cillian: And I'd keep licking until you tell me to stop because you can’t take it anymore.

You: Then what?

Cillian: I'd move up to put my cock in your mouth and make you take in all the way.

You: Oh. I'd like that. I'd suck it well.

Cillian: You would.

You: You know you are the first man I ever did this with?

Cillian: Seriously? You are a natural talent then and I feel very privileged. In fact, that just turns me on even more, being the first man you did this with.

You: There is a lot of things I want to try with you that I haven’t done before.

Cillian: Like what?

You: I want you to tie me up one day and have your way with me. Then maybe some spanking too. Maybe even anal sex, let’s see.

Cillian: Jesus Y/N. I can’t wait to do all these things with you.

You: Oh god, me neither. Are you still playing with yourself there?

Cillian: Of course. You?

You: Yes…I am very close too but my vibrator just died.

Cillian: Take it out.

You: I did.

Cillian: Is it very wet?

You: It actually is. The whole shaft. I must be very aroused.

Cillian: I want you to lick it.

You: Seriously?

Cillian: Yeah, do it for me. It’s a big turn on.

You: Alright.

Cillian: Tell me what it tastes like.

You: Like my pussy I would imagine.

Cillian: So it tastes pretty good then.

You: It's not gross. It's very wet.

Cillian: Is your pussy free now?

You: It is.

Cillian: Slide your fingers in?

You: Okay. Here they go.

Cillian: Slide them in and out, nice and deep. Your fingers should be soaking by now.  

You: Hmm, fuck I am so wet Cillian.

Cillian: Good. Keep fingering yourself. Hard and deep. Plunge them right in there and then I want you to take your fingers out and suck them for me.

You: So good, but I would much rather lick my juices of your throbbing cock.

Cillian: Your mouth would certainly feel so much better around my cock than my hand does.

You: Tell me what you would be doing if your cock was in my mouth right now.

Cillian: I think I would want to cum in your mouth. It’s so fucking sexy when you swallow my cum.

You: God, I love the taste of your cum. But the problem is that, you cumming in my mouth makes me want your cock even more.  

Cillian: Fuck, just the thought of cumming in your mouth is too much Y/N.

You: Are you close?

Cillian: So fucking close.

You: Me too. Oh god…fuck.

****

With those last words, you came in unison, moaning into the phone as you were talking to each other. You were fingering your pussy hard and fast while Cillian was stroking his cock thoroughly, seeking his realise.

‘Jesus I think I made a mess on your bed’ you said, breathing heavily as you came down from your high.

‘I wish I could have seen it’ Cillian gasped, also trying to catch his breath.

‘I will give you your own personal show on Friday’ you then said just before you heard the doorbell ring.

You were worried to open the door, not knowing who it was and Cillian wasn’t expecting anyone.

‘Just go to the door and see who it is. If anyone asks, you are a friend of Denise and I let you stay there’ Cillian suggested while he was staying on the phone, somewhat nervously and curious at the same time.

   Tag List:

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@peaky-cillian​

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#cillian murphy #Cillian Murphy x Reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x y/n

[spacebarnes]

SORRY

SUMMARY: when a game in a interview show up, Tom can't keep his mout shut.

A/N: this is my first imagine of tom omg i love him so much. as always, english it's not my first language so i hope this is good! take care of yourself pls! (gifs not mine)

"baby, remember we can't get together." you said while on the screen of your cell phone you watched your boyfriend brushing his teeth.

"why not?" he removed his brush from his mouth to ask.

"because everyone will know that we are together." you let out a sigh.

"they won't know." he shook and spat into the sink before speaking back to the screen. "let me go for you." he said with a pout.

"Thomas." this time, your voice was a little more serious.

"fine darling, but don't call me Thomas, it feels like you don't love me anymore." the latter put a smile on your face.

"I will always love you, dumbass." you rolled your eyes and got out of bed when you heard someone ring your doorbell. "It's probably Lizzie, so i have to hang up. love you." you said something hasty and waited for me to say it back to you, as soon as the "love you too" left your boyfriend's lips, you hung up the call.

when you opened the door, Elizabeth was behind her in a pretty light blue dress and her hair was tied in a ponytail. "hey, girl. Scarlett is in the car so we should go right now." she said something hastily and took your hand to get you out of your apartment.

as soon as they got to where the interview would be recorded you were able to locate several of your colleagues, however, Tom was not there.

"does anyone know where the fuck is Tom Holland?" you ask.

"I told you that the kid was a problem." Sebastian said as he sat down in a chair next to Anthony.

"I'm here!" your boyfriend's unmistakable voice echoed throughout the place, forcing you to turn to meet his gaze. he looked handsome as hell, he was wearing a black pants, a white shirt and a black jacket.

"who invited him? damn, now the whole interview is ruined." Anthony said sarcastically, causing a laugh from some.

"so funny, Mackie." your boyfriend rolled his eyes and sat down, not before checking you up with his eyes. Tom sat on the edge, next to Lizzie. you really wanted to sit next to him, but the only available seat was between Sebastian and Scarlett.

when you sat down, you felt a vibration and you quickly picked up your phone to find out what it was that made it vibrate. It was a message from Tom.

TOM: you look so gorgeous, stop being so cute or i will die.

YOU: shut up.

TOM: i'm being serious. i just can't believe that you are my gf like omg lucky me.

YOU: you're making me blush, stop it

TOM: only the truth darling ;)

i love u so much.

YOU: love u too. now shut up, the interview is getting started.

as soon as the two of you leave your phones, the two of you found each other to smile at each other before the interview started.

"I see what's going on" Sebastian commented, pulling you out of your bubble

"huh?" you asked without understanding what he was referring to.

"you and Holland." when he spoke those words, you felt your body go numb with nerves.

"what do you mean?" you asked trying to hide the nerves that began to run through your veins.

"you two are plotting revenge on Mackie and me for bothering you so much." hearing that gave you a sigh of relief.

"yeah, totally." you said with a smile, relieved that it was not what you thought.

soon the interviewer entered the room, giving them indications of the game they would play. "so, i'm gonna say let me see the last picture in your camera roll and stuff like that." he explain quickly so that all of you could understand.

"but what if i have a nude?" you asked at random.

"you have nudes in your phone? alright dirty girl." Scarlett commented in surprise.

"no, i mean-"

"It's alright, you are on your 20's and it's understandable, don't worry about it. actually, don't share it with every guy you meet." Sebastian said next to you.

"wait, i don't-"

"just don't show it for the good of the community, got it? yeah? I want to suppose so." Anthony looked at you and said.

"leave alone the little girl, I'm sure she just ask for curiosity." Elizabeth jumped into the conversation and defended you.

"that's why you're my favorite, Liz." you blew her a kiss in the air.

"I'll make sure that didn't hurt, but okay." Tom said hiding it with a cough.

"shut up, Tom. you can't talk, surely you also have photos on your phone with your stick in the air" Anthony said with some disgust.

"did you just called his dick, stick?" Scarlett asked with a laugh.

"oh man." the man next to you shook his head. "just don't put that in the interview and let's get started."

"alright, alright." the interviewer said with a laugh. "so, we are going to separate all of you, in that way some teach one thing and the others another, it's that okay?" he asked and everyone nodded.

"wait, so if I show my first picture, Lizzie won't?" Tom asked and pointed to the girl next to him.

"no, in that case she is going to show her last photo." answered the question. "so, Tom, Scarlett and Anthony are the team one, and Lizzie, Sebastian and [Y/N] are team two. got it?"

"yes, sir." you said and took out your phone to be able to show what they ask of you.

"right, team one let's see your last picture." the guy in front of you ordered and the three people that made up that team began searching his gallery.

"mine it's really boring." Scarlett warned when she saw her last photo. "it's a glass of water." she said simply and showed a photo.

"mine is a selfie of Lizzie and i." Anthony said with a smile and showed his screen, in which the photo of the two actors stood out.

"we look good." the semi blonde said and nodded.

"what about yours, Tom?" you asked curiously and leaned forward a little to get a better look at it.

"it's ridiculous." he said and placed the palm of his hand on his forehead while showing the photo.

"why you have a picture of a tea bag?" Sebastian asked in confusion.

"because there was nothing left!" Tom said and shifted a bit in his chair so he could be face to face with all of you. "so i send this picture to my mom so she can buy more for me."

"the fuck, Tom? just go to the store." you tried to sound like his friend

"no because i want this kind of tea, i don't like others." he said with a grimace.

"and what about your juices? I thought those were your favorites." Anthony asked and rested his right cheek on his hand.

"yeah but, I like tea better." he shrugged his shoulders and smiled.

"let's continue!" the interviewer interrupted and read one of the letters in his hands. "let's see, team two i want to see your last note."

"i'm scared" you start giggling while entering the notes app.

"i can't say it." Sebastian said quickly and turned off his cell phone.

"hey, why not? show us." Scarlett insisted and crossed her arms.

"because it's a list of possible gifts for [Y/N] because her birthday is coming up." when he said this, the two of you quickly turned to look at each other. you folded your lower lip and moved closer to him so that you could hug him properly.

"yeah, so much love but i want to see the tea, darling. show us." Mackie interrupted the moment and clapped his hands to hurry you up.

"my last note says 'new angel by niall horan'." you said something confused without understanding why your last note said that. "um, what?"

"oh!" Lizzie interfered and headed towards you. "maybe it's because it was the song that was playing on the radio and you said you were going to write down the name to add it to your playlist."

"oh" you exclaimed extending the o. "yeah, i remember now."

"so, my last note says 'two and a half cups of rice'." your friend frowned at not understanding. "yeah, i don't remember that."

"let's continue with the team two, show us your last text." the interviewer ordered with a smile and those of team two quickly got into the messaging app.

"oh, this is a funny one." Sebastian said "damn it, i'm gonna burn everything because you are not going to the interview with Mackie and i." he read his last message without removing the smile from his face and then looked up. "I sent it to Evans."

"oh i see the favoritisim here." Scarlett said with a small laugh and looked at Sebastian.

"I'm going to an interview, we can hang out tomorrow." Lizzie read with narrowed eyes so she could see better. "yeah, my best friend wanted us to go out for a drink but work comes first, i guess." she grimaced and shrugged.

"oh, I'm so eager to see the latest message from [Y/N], she has the juicy stuff." Anthony said with a laugh and pointed at you.

"oh my god, may the lord save me." you said while entering the message app. you widened your eyes when you saw that the last message you sent had been to Tom, you tried to get into another chat, but Sebastian discovered you.

"hey!" he said quickly and stopped your hand. "without cheating."

"well, mine says love u too. now shut up, the interview is getting started." when you finished reading, you felt your cheeks begin to turn a crimson color.

"I wonder who you sent it to." Lizzie said and touched her chin pretending to think.

"is it that boyfriend of yours?" Sebastian asked and you nodded slowly.

"wait, do you have a boyfriend?" the boy asked you in amazement and you nodded again while covering your face with your cell phone.

"let me tell you something about this girl." Mackie interrupted everything and when he started talking, you knew you were going to be embarrassed. "she has a boyfriend, but she doesn't show it. upload photos to her social networks and cover the boy's face."

"even we don't know who it is." the blonde said. "we are creating a team of spies to discover the identity of her lover."

"I'm afraid that all of you may never find out." you said very sure and pulled the phone away from your face.

Tom hadn't said a word since his shift started. he was simply looking at you with eyes of love because he could not be near you. he hadn't realized that you had read his last text message, he was lost in how good you looked.

"Tom?" Elizabeth moved the boy a little, pulling him out of his bubble.

"um, yes?" he answered something lost, not understanding what was happening around him.

"read us your last text message, prince charming." Stan annoyed him and ordered him at the same time.

when you noticed that your boyfriend looked a bit lost, you begged not to read the same message and everyone would realize what was happening between the two of you.

"alright." the brunnette took out his cell phone and entered your chat. "love u too. now shut up, the interview is getting started." he looked up and smiled at his companions. "it was from my girlfriend." at that moment, you felt your cheeks burn and your body completely paralyzed. Tom had publicly exposed the relationship.

"wait a damn minute." Anthony said and looked at Tom and then at you.

"i knew it!" Scarlett got up from her chair and did a little victory dance.

"this is too much, i can't believe it." Sebastian put a hand on his forehead. "how can you lie to me!" he yelled at you and shook your shoulders making you laugh.

"um, hi?" Holland said without understanding. "what's going on?"

"just don't talk, i think you already said a lot." you told him and covered your face with both of your hands.

"what do you mean?" he asked again.

"you, Thomas Holland." Elizabeth turned so she could face him. "you just made your relationship with [Y/N] known" when the brunette processed these words, he quickly leaned in to look at you.

"sorry?" he said with an awkward smile and shrugged.

#fanfic #oneshot #marvel #tom holland #spiderman #tom holland x reader #peter parker #peter parker x reader #tom holland smut

[imnotwolverine]

Wolfie’s Fic Recs | Dad!Fics

DAD!FICS - Henry and his characters with kids, wanting kids, making kids. That’s it. That’s this list. 

Author’s note: My sincere apologies for how crazy long this list has gotten 😂 It’s like the whole fandom is agreeing on one thing: this man needs a baby ASAP. Also, thank you dear @littlefreya for your ever wonderful suggestions! 

--

With Henry

Single dad Henry is trying to figure out a hair tutorial to please his 4-year old, and it’s the most adorable thing ever. With Flowers In Her Hair by @wanna-do-bad-things 

Single dad Henry kinda hittin’ on da nanny? Picture Perfect by @fun-with-jane is a short fic series that’ll get you kinda hot, and kinda bothered (the slow burn..ARGH) 

Getting you pregnant is, apparently, a very VERY exact science including honey-wine-&-cookies.. baby. Freyja Dag by @geek-eat-repeat

And don’t forget about timing! THE TIMING! Let’s Make One Of Our Own is the sweaty hot smut you might just crave (am I the only one ovulating right now?), fic by @littlefreya. 

Sometimes it’s also just a situation of super sperm, followed by an “oopsie baby”. And when two bullheaded fuckbuddies-to-be-parents are involved, things can get pretty ..engaging: The Rules Of Engagement by @ladyreapermc (multi-chapter). 

Or perhaps it’s a situation of Henry and his untameable Hunger, by @littlefreya (yes, it’s breeeeding smut my lassies -- again, forgive me for I am thirsty) 

Pregnancy ain’t always sunshine and rainbows. There’s also a lot of change and self-doubt. But that’s nothing some coconut oil and love can’t fix, in Two Months by @littlefreya

There’s a lotttt of first times with having children, which in turn will probably give quite a few heart Flutters for poor protective dad Henry. By @littlefreya

And he’s not just protective, he’s also pretty observant. This Cute Little Drabble makes you wonder when you last bought tampons... by @toomanystoriessolittletime​

Newborns? They can be a little fussy. But again, daddy bear is here to fix it! Everything I Ever Wanted by @fuckoffbard

With the brood expanding, it’s getting a little difficult to garner the ever-craved attention of momma bear in This Is War by @cruelfvkingsummer

And when mom isn’t home? Well..the question arises what happened to all the cookies.. Daddy’s day by @angrythingstarlight

Okay, one more by @angrythingstarlight because I couldn’t choose: Baby Talk

And Henry’ll learn soon enough that changing your facial hair should go with a disclaimer. Especially when toddlers are involved. Daddy Who? by @viking-raider

And facial hair also reminds me of this fic; Domestic Life by @writernerd23 (-> “Your face is scratchy, Daddy.” <- CUTE)

The Accidental Family by me. A domestic sad-fluffy short series about memory loss -- After a motorcycle accident, Henry suddenly finds himself living the life he always dreamed of. There’s only one small hitch; he can’t remember how he got here.

And to carry on with the more sad fluff-stuff. How would Henry deal with the less rosy parts of trying to have children - like miscarriage? Negative is a beautiful fic that got me balling my eyes out and you should definitely read it if you’re in the need for some sad, sad fluff. By @oddduckthatgirl​

Perhaps things didn’t quite go as planned - whatever the plan was. This sad-to-fluff fic brings you on the rollercoaster of extremely sad to fuzzy warm and happy. Better Off by @toomanystoriessolittletime​

More tear-jerkers? 😭Falling Again by @deathonyourtongue follows struggling AU dad!Henry as bills keep piling and the loss of his wife haunts his every waking moment. 

Back to the fun stuff - *chants* Rugby dad! Rugby dad! I couldn’t pick just one from the extensive list of rugby dad Henry fics by @hlkwrites and @achaoticaugust - let’s be honest; this should be a genre on its own, so here’s a few: 

Henry Cavill, The Rugby Dad Part 2 (smut, daddy kink) I laughed perhaps a tad too loud at the drunk make-out session on the front lawn - here’s some short sexy rugby dad Henry drabbles. 

 A Rugby Dad’s Guide To Injury Time  (smut) I just love smut when it slow, sensual and JUST a tiny bit awkward because you’re on the couch and someone’s leg is in a cast 😜

A Rugby Dad’s Guide To The Off Season (smut) And after the hard toil of keeping a family up and running, it might just be time for a hot (tub) little break 

With Sy

A few short, golden moments in becoming first-time parents with Sy - including skin-to-skin daddy cuddles - what else do you want? Evermore by @hauntedelation is a fluffy fic that gets me all kinds of fuzzy inside.

Talking “short” golden moments..this one includes one short reader, a coffee mug and one teasing oaf-of-a-bear Syverson. (smut) Of Short Girls And High Shelves by my fellow Lisa, also known as @killjoy-assbutt-1112 (hi girl!) 

Cankles, have never been so hot a subject to talk about as they are in this lovely fic by @crimsonrae: Cigarettes and Morning Breath 

And before you know it, you have a whole brood. Will that stop Sy? Meh..probably not. Fourth Time’s The Charm by @cruelfvkingsummer

And once he HAS a daughter? Woof! Dad Syverson is probably just a LITTLE bit too overprotective. But that’s nothing a daughter-dad weekend can’t fix. Daddy Syverson by @connieisland​

Imagine this: one big chunky Captain Syverson and one tiny, tiny babygirl cradled in his arms. Are you melting yet? Siobhán is just the cutest little fic, by @littlefreya

We really want Sy to get a daughter huh? And that’ll be particularly funny when daughter sweet becomes old enough for Prom Night -- we’ll be back with overprotective daddy Sy who is ever stubborn, but also ever sweet. By @littlefreya

Onto the holidays: Santa brings back home a 5-year old’s one true wish in Santa Letter Wish by @lovelycavills 

And sometimes? You wish the babe would wait JUST a few days before getting born. Christmas, Baby by @its--fandom--darling

Now. To finish off the Sy vibes; are you perhaps in the need of one heck of a good series? Willow Run is one of the first series I read here on Tumblr and it is SO GOOD. I won’t blab and just let you read ❤️ you won’t regret it. By @deathonyourtongue

With Geralt

Geralt, Destiny, one stubborn girl and the Law of Surprise - it’s a recipe for great adventures and funny grumpy dad!Geralt moments. This wonderful multichap fic A Soldier’s Daughter is written by @viking-raider​ 

I know it’s canonically impossible for a Witcher to get anyone pregnant (due to the Trial of the Grasses). But you know..if ..and when..and maybe..then: A Gentle Soul by @killjoy-assbutt-1112

With Marshall

Some mild roleplaying, rough smutiness and unexpected news make this love-making sesh a wild-wild ride. Heart Of Darkness by @littlefreya

Sleepless is a wonderful multichap fic with Marshall x single!mom reader. @feralrunaway gives you awkward barbecue chat and protective Marshall being ever protective. There’s no masterlist, so here’s (I think) all the chapters: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

Can you imagine big hunky chunk Marshall being worried when you get all teared up with emotion? Baby Blues gives you allll the cute caring dad!Marshall you need. By @the-soot-sprite

With August

A child born out of love and chaos, is all August craves when he comes back home. Mother Of Murder by @littlefreya​ (smut) 

Bad guys, accidental babies and *BOOM* suddenly it’s not just you who calls August “daddy” ((pun intended here, please don’t hate me 😂)) Surprise, surprise.. by @maya-the-cute-ass-bee

And once such that surprise happens, August knows one thing for sure: he’d burn the whole world to a crisp if anything was to happen to you and his unborn child. In this Imagine by @littlefreya

With Napoleon

Sobs, cries and accidentally getting pregnant by spies ((the puns are getting worse, I swear I’ll show myself out in a bit)). On a serious note though: this multi-chapter is an angsty rollercoaster with a tinge of fluff by @coloraturadiva - A Mistake 

With Sherlock

Dad!Sherlock fics are surprisingly hard to find, but here’s one: Promises by @zodiyack is a bit of a modern interpretation of a Victorian household, and it sure as hell is delightful!  

--

WEW! That was a LONG list - wonderful work dear fic writers! And, as ever; if you have any good recommendations that fit in this list, please add in the comments or reblog! ❤️

( Fan art by me 😊)

#henry cavill fanfiction #fic recommendations #rpf #dad!henry #dad!syverson #dad!sy #dad!geralt #dad!marshall #dad!august #dad!napoleon #dad!sherlock #wolfie's fic recs

[amyscascadingtabs]

give you my wild, give you a child

"stupid numbers, think they’re so great. i'd love to see numbers give you a baby."

inspired by that one line in 8x08 renewal, because he really did give her a baby.

read on ao3

It's been three days and Amy can't stop crying.

 Sometimes she thinks it's stopped, that she'll finally have a stable moment to talk to her husband or eat a meal in peace or facetime some of the twenty or so relatives on her list, but it feels like it’s never more than minutes before her emotions swim to surface again and something new brings out the vibrating sobs that have seemed to characterize this day. As it turns out, even newly pregnant Amy has got nothing on three days postpartum Amy.

 That she cries about the big, life-changing things doesn’t surprise her. When she wakes up after a night of minimal sleep and sees Mac in the bedside crib next to her, she cries because she’s so grateful; that everything went well, that their baby is finally here and that he's perfect beyond words. Then she cries because she thinks about what could have happened if it hadn't gone well, because she gave birth in a makeshift birthing suite in a police precinct, and so many things could have gone wrong it’s a miracle nothing did. When she gets out of the shower, she cries seeing herself in the bathroom mirror, because she's proud of her body in a way she's never experienced before. Then she cries because she also barely recognizes the person staring back at her, still looking six months pregnant except with hospital underwear and nursing pads in her bra. When she has breakfast after feeding Mac and tries to read the newspaper, she cries because so many terrible things are happening in the world all the time, and she doesn’t know how she’s going to protect this child from a world that sometimes seems to be getting more and more cruel by the day. Then she cries out of guilt for feeling that way, because she’s supposed to be enjoying this baby bubble, and what kind of mother even is she for daring to think about anything but her baby right now?

  As the day goes on, however, her reasons for crying begin to feel increasingly ridiculous. She cries because she’s so relieved to be drinking regular coffee again, then because it doesn’t taste the same as decaf and she’s gotten so used to it that the caffeine tastes weird now. She cries because the coffee goes cold anyway when Mac begins to whimper and suck on his fingers in the way he seems to do whenever he’s hungry and she has to drop everything to feed him another time. She cries when Jake turns on the television and a commercial for diapers comes on, because she can’t believe they get to buy them now. Then she cries when Mac has finished eating because the red flannel she borrowed slash stole from Jake won’t button properly, and she realizes one of the buttons has gone in the wrong hole and she has to redo the whole thing. When Jake offers to help her with it, that makes her cry too, because the way he’s not laughing at her right now but patiently trying to solve her problems is making her feel so loved she doesn't know how to thank him.

  The thing that makes her cry most of all, though, is watching Jake and Mac together. She always knew that sight would drive her crazy, and it’s part of the reason she wanted to have kids with him so much in the first place, but not even in her most indulgent fantasies about their future could she have pictured this. As grateful as she is over the fact that she gets to be a mom, getting to see Jake be a dad is a close second. He loves their son so much, and Mac so clearly loves him too, and Amy has to remind herself of the nine months she's spent carrying this child by herself in order not to feel jealous when Mac stops fussing the moment Jake picks him up. He looks so tiny when Jake holds him, the back of his head fitting perfectly in Jake's palm, and the care with which he’s handling him keeps making her emotional. He's always talking to him, sometimes whispers she can't hear and sometimes praise for her which she can, and that makes her cry too. He even chats to him when he changes his diapers, which Amy hides behind the door frame just so she can hear, failing to stifle a giggle when he asks in a fake interrogation voice what Mac has to say to his defense for making such a mess. He wakes up with her in the middle of the night when she has to breastfeed to get her endless glasses of water and granola bars when it makes her feel starving, and then he lets Mac burp him in the face and spit up on the back of his shirt before he falls back asleep curled up on his chest. He leans his chin on the top of Mac’s head to smell that perfect baby scent, running his finger over those cute neck rolls, and the smile on his face when he looks back at Amy makes her completely lose it, because this is what she dreamed of all along.

  This is what she imagined when they visited her brother Christian’s new baby shortly before they got married and Jake spent the better part of an hour making funny faces to the child in his arms. This is what she panicked over when he said he wasn't sure if he wanted kids, because she had always thought. This is what she thought of those nights after another timed round of unenthusiastic sex, trying to keep the hope alight until that single line would once more tell them not this time. She had felt it in his teary smile when she showed him that first positive test, in how hard he'd squeezed her hand at their first ultrasound when their baby’s heartbeat had filled the room, in the absolute joy on his face the first time he’d managed to put his hand on her stomach just in time to feel their son kick, and now it's right in front of her and almost too much for her heart to take.

 She's so tired, and she's sore and overwhelmed and worried about a billion different things, but she's never felt so grateful.

 That's what makes her cry floods at three a.m. when Mac seems to have finished eating and she comes back from the bathroom to find Jake still sitting up with him in bed, holding him with a hypnotised look on his face. He doesn’t even seem tired, even though he must be, is just looking at his son like he’s holding the entire world in his arms and doesn’t ever want to let go. She always knew seeing him with a baby would be incredible, those surprisingly toned biceps curling around a fragile little human and those heart eyes focused on one thing only, but maybe she hadn’t expected not being able to watch it without breaking into tears.

 “Jeez, Ames,” he says when he looks up, the expression on his face changing to one of concern. “Are you okay? Honestly?”

“Yeah,” she sniffles and dries her eyes again as she sits down on the bed. The skin on her cheeks is stinging at this point. “I just can’t believe this is my life.”

“Why not?” Mac’s pacifier glides out of his mouth, and Jake puts it back with two fingers before he can notice anything. “We’re right here, babe. We’re very much real.”

“Sometimes I thought it was never going to happen.” She hiccups. “All the times we’ve been apart. The months we fought to have him. How freaking long and exhausting being pregnant was. And now I have him, and you, and I’m just so grateful I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“That’s why you’re crying?”

“I think I don’t even know why I’m crying anymore. I’m so sleep-deprived.”

“Yeah.” Jake smirks. “But I get it. I’m really, really grateful too.”

 Mac makes a short gurgling sound that Amy takes to mean he agrees. She reaches out so his hand can wrap around her ring finger, feeling him squeezing it tight in the cutest grip. The grey striped pajamas has little mittens on it to keep him from scratching herself, but Mac gets upset whenever they pull them down, so Amy figures they'll just have to keep filing his nails instead. Their son is already both opinionated and stubborn, and she loves it about him, because she loves everything about who he is. He's perfect, and he's hers, and she still can't quite believe it even though he's right there in Jake's arms. It's all her dreams coming true, and it's making all the hard things feel so worth it.

 “Jake?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for giving me a baby,” she whispers. She’s too tired, barely even knows what she's saying anymore, but looking at the two of them, all she can think about is how incredibly lucky and thankful she feels.

Jake blinks in disbelief, grinning at her. “Wait, I gotta make sure I heard this right. Did you just thank me for giving you a baby?”

“Uh-huh?”

“And you're serious about this?”

“Well… yeah.”

“So you mean after nine months,” he says, still wide-eyed, “of you telling me, minimum a couple times a week but pretty much daily toward the end, that I could never understand what you're going through, and then you shouting some lovely descriptions at me whilst you were literally pushing him out, and also earlier this evening when you cried because I can't breastfeed him for you – you’re thanking me?”

“Some of it was a team effort,” she insists. “You helped.”

“Oh yeah, my nards sure are loving the credit.”

“Don't be gross.”

“Sorry.” He smiles, a little bashfully, stroking his fingers back and forth over Mac’s forehead instead of looking at her. “But Ames, c’mon. It was a pretty limited effort compared to what you did.”

“Maybe they’re not the same thing.” She leans her head on his shoulder. Mac is still holding on to her finger, but his grip is getting looser now. “But you were part of it too, babe.”

“Really?” He’s blushing. “What did I do that was so special?”

“Let's see. You didn’t laugh at me when I kept crying at everything the first weeks. Rosa made fun of me on a daily basis, but you just hugged me and told me everything was going to be okay. You let me sleep in when I had days off, even though I pretended I wanted you to wake me up. You fixed food for me without telling me what it was, and put it in front of me before I could feel sick thinking about it.” She shakes her head at the memory of those, few but complicated, weeks, and how hard they’d had to work around it. “You kept telling me I looked great even when my body kept changing and it all felt weird, and helped me pick out maternity wear when I didn’t want to do it on my own. I don’t know that I would have taken barely any bump pictures if you hadn't made me. You listened to all my research about the best strollers and pacifiers and cribs, and you did those courses and read all those books with me, and you came to almost every scan and held my hand so tight every time. You came home with onesies and hats because you thought they were too cute not to buy, and you gave me massages whenever I wanted them, and you even slept on the couch a couple nights at the end when I got angry at you for snoring. You barely even complained about it.”

“I complained a little,” Jake mumbles. “When you couldn’t hear me.”

“Fine. And lastly, you rode a horse through the city to get to me while I was in labor, and you didn’t even act like seeing him be born was gross.”

“I mean, it was a little bit gross.” Jake lifts Mac so he can kiss his forehead when he whimpers. “No offense, bud. I mean you looked perfect, I didn’t think you looked like a slimy alien even for a second, didn’t cross my mind, et cetera.”

“Whatever.” She rolls her eyes. “Point is, babe, you were there. You're here now. I know I did the actual work, but you were the one who made sure I could. I don’t know how I would have made it through without you. So… thank you.”

 He doesn't give her any witty comebacks for that, only a shy smile.

“I love you,” Amy all but whispers through the tears that fight their way through her determination to keep them in. “Both of you. So much.”

“Love you, Ames.”

She kisses him, putting her hands on each side of his thighs so she can reach over Mac. Kissing is a lot more complicated than usual when both his hands are busy and none of them wants to risk crushing their son, but it's still nice, feeling his soft lips on hers and squeezing his lower lip between both of hers for just a moment before pulling apart.

“It's hard to kiss you while you're holding a baby,” she says, and Jake grimaces. “That might be the only bad thing about it.”

“My bad. I’m just going to put him down so we can make out all night.”

“Don't you dare. He currently doesn't have a boob in his mouth and he's still not crying, you're not doing anything to risk that now.” Amy pulls the comforter up to her chin. “Wake me up when he needs to eat again and not a second earlier.”

Jake chuckles at her as she turns out the light and snuggles up close to him, but he makes no move to put Mac down or even protest, and she didn't think it was possible to love him even more. Her heart has definitely grown with becoming a mom, much like everyone told her about, but most seem to have forgotten to prepare her for how much it would also grow when it came to her partner.

 “I still think I’m the one who should say thank you,” Jake whispers just as she closes her eyes, and Amy can't help but smile. “If we're talking about who gave who a baby.”

“Jake, just accept the praise.”

“Oh, yeah.” She doesn't need to see his face to know that he's grinning. “I’ve locked it in a little box in my brain and I’m gonna keep it as gloat material forever, bringing it up when you least expect it.”

“That's great, babe.”

“Mm-hmm. We both know the truth, though.” Jake's left hand strokes over the top of her head, and Amy has to look up to see that Mac is still resting safely on his right arm and doesn't seem to have noticed a thing. Another tear fight its way down her cheek at the thought of how safe he must feel with him. This time, she doesn’t even bother to wipe it away.

 ~

#my writing #b99 #brooklyn nine-nine #peraltiago #jake x amy #b99 fic #b99 fanfiction #no eps this week but i finally finished this haha! #pls enjoy <3 #also thank u niamh and ajit for helps with all the reasons amy would be crying!!! #oh also the three people who voted on the title thank you

[thefanficmonster]

You Call It A Mess, We Call It Baking

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Tons of fluff

Summary: A friendly argument via Discord leads to a baking session. Said baking session leads to a kitchen looking like it was the victim of a tornado. The lesson here is: don’t leave Corpse and Y/N in the kitchen together.

Requested by Anon, thank you so much for your request, hope I captured what you wanted well and I hope you enjoy reading it.

Corpse’s POV

I’ve been sitting in a Discord call with Y/N for about three years now, keeping her company as she’s editing some footage Sean sent her earlier. In the meantime, I’m reviewing the recently submitted stories by my viewers, reading some lines I find funny or downright terrifying to her.

“When I went in the kitchen to check on the cake, it was already out of the oven, a sticky note next to it on the counter that read: ‘smells nice’. My blood ran cold.“ I read the eerie sentence that is suggesting one of my most frightening scenarios - a stalker getting inside your house. I get chills just imagining what was probably going on in the sender’s head when they saw that.

“Jeez, it’s been so long since I’ve cooked something other than omelet.“ I hear Y/N reply absentmindedly, completely neglecting the fear factor of what’s going on in the story.

“Good job missing the point.” I chuckle, my eyes continuing to scan the email until my brain actually comprehends what she said, “Wait, you mean to tell me you have baked anything ever?! No offense, Y/N, but I was honestly doubting your ability to make an omelet as well. In all the years we’ve been friends I can’t remember you ever not saying ‘I hade takeout’ when I asked you what you had for dinner.” 

The scoff that comes through my headphones is the most adorable thing ever. She’s one to easily take a joke and never get offended by anything, but I know how heated she can get with her sarcasm. If I’m being honest, I’m always here for it. 

“There are many things you don’t know about me, Corpsy. A girl’s gotta have some aces up her sleeve.“ I can just imagine the narrowing of here eyes and the tilting of her head as she says that. She has a very specific way of expressing her thoughts. When we first met I accidentally made the comparison to one of those children’s books that have pictures, stories and small buttons for audio. That comparison has stuck with me and I look back at it very often. To fully catch her point, you don’t just listen to her. No, no, no. You focus on every change in her face and body. The way she looks away during certain parts of her speech, the way her voice plays with several different tones at once. Her posture while speaking. Just like those books - you don’t just listen to the audio, you look at the pictures and read the text.

“Well you know how much I like playing poker, why don’t you come over and throw those aces down.“ The last thing you should ever give Y/N is a challenge. She won’t only homerun it, but will never let you forget it either. When we met she was a girl with self esteem in the negatives, so seeing her brag about her achievements to me always brings me joy.

The details I’ve listed are pretty in-depth, aren’t they? That’s because I don’t want to let anything slip when it comes to her. This realization hit me early in our friendship and it was only like two years in that I finally connected the dots - this investment in her of mine was not simple nor platonic. Come to think of it, I reckon it never was.

“No way, I’m not changing out of my pajamas just to come to your house.” She laughs, once again making me picture her full body reaction to her statement.

I smirk, knowing I’m about to bring out my main weapon, “Oh come on, I’ve seen you in pajamas countless times. You can just admit you don’t wanna embarrass yourself. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

I can sense her fuming even though she’s like two miles away. “I’ll be there in 15.”

She hangs up before getting the chance to hear me lose control of the laughter I’ve been suppressing. 

Man, I love this girl.

Y/N’s POV 

“It’s on.“ I say as soon as the door in front of me swings open to reveal the smug smirking face of my bestfriend. The foundation of my tough, unbothered act is shaken up by the outburst of butterflies in my stomach which occurs every time I see him. I can never look at this man and not turn at least a little red in the cheeks. 

It’s been long since I self-diagnosed with the malicious ‘falling for someone who would never reciprocate my feelings’ illness. I’ve been living with it for a while. What medication do I take? Dating other guys. One bad relationship after another, scolding myself that every one of them has been a desperate attempt to get him to change his gaze on me from ‘best friend’ to something more. Hell, I don’t even know how to define that ‘something more’. I once even tried to admit my feelings, but I was so vague and so incoherent that I didn’t understand myself, so how was he supposed to grasp my downright sad excuse of a confession. 

“No ‘hello’, no nothing?“ He moves aside to let me in. I walk right past him with a sassy flip of my hair to mask the nervousness of being aware that his eyes were on me, “Rude.“ He murmured with an obvious smile in his tone.

He looks as cute as ever, black sweatpants and a black tee, hair messy as though he has just rolled out of bed. I can say with the upmost certainty that he’s the only one who can pull of that hairstyle.

I hide mine as I throw on the apron that’s hanging by his fridge, ready to take over his kitchen and put those aces of mine to use. I can’t help but furrow my brows when I see him enter the kitchen behind me and lean against the counter. That’s when I notice the counter is lined with all the ingredients I’ll need for the cake I had in mind. 

“OK, what do we do first?“ he claps his hands together, straightening his posture as he gives me a expectant look.

It takes all my brain cells to prevent me from freezing up completely. I’m not usually like this, mind you, I’m a lot better at keeping what’s going on inside my head camouflaged. I don’t know what’s happening to me, but I don’t have much time to dwell on that. If I do, he’ll pick up on it right away.

“Um, we are not gonna do anything. I will be here baking, and you will remain outside the kitchen until I’m done. If you need something, ask and I’ll bring it to you. I can’t have you sabotaging my project, impostor.” I narrow my eyes at him like he’s the most dangerous of threats. And he is, for my mental sanity.

He fakes a hurt expression, clearly fighting to the best of his ability to hide how much he’s enjoying messing with me. “We’ve known each other for five years, Y/N. Don’t you trust me?”

I lean over the counter to where we’re about two feet apart and whisper, “Not. Even. A. Little. Bit.”

He smiles, “You’re just trying to get away with making this cake by watching a YouTube tutorial. Admit it, you can’t even crack an egg properly.” His eyes are now as narrowed as mine as we stare each other down at a proximity that’s rapidly raising my body temperature and heartbeat. It’s not fair. I’m a mess around him so he automatically has the upper hand.

As expected, I give in, “You better not mess around though.”

After I force him to give me several different oaths, we start. I’m working on the batter, he’s working on the frosting. We decided to decorate it with crimson and dark purple frosting. We’re both really pick about the color shades so he’s currently struggling to get the crimson perfect. 

“Let’s make it a layer cake.“ He suggests out of the blue, “Two layers, nothing crazy.“

I think it over for a moment or two before shrugging, “OK, but then you better grab a bowl and help me with the second layer. You know how to make the batter, right?”

He confirms that he does and walks out of my line of sight. I hear him open the fridge as I whisk the eggs I have cracked with the sugar. 

“You want something to drink?“ He asks while rummaging through the fridge.

I decline, try to focus on the recipe that I have somehow memorized to the smallest of details. As I’m reciting the it silently to make sure I didn’t skip any steps with the batter, I feel something cold run down my back causing me to scream.

“What the fuck was that?!“ I turn around and glare at him just as the ice cube slips out from under my hoodie and falls to the floor. The fucker’s laughing whole heartedly, not giving a damn that he just gave me a mini heart attack. Mainly cause I thought it was a roach or something, and he know I hate bugs.

“You do realize how boiling red you are, right? You look like a lobster. I thought you needed something to cool you down.“

Instead of being annoyed, I do a full 180 and decide to play his game, “Yeah, I know...” I trail off, reaching my hand back towards the bowl of flour. Grabbing a a handful of the white powder I throw it at him before he can even catch on. Needless, to say, his outfit and hair aren’t so black anymore. “Ah, I knew your hair would look good with snowflakes in it, but you can never be too sure.”

“This means war, Y/N.” His smile is borderline malicious, getting me excited for what’s to come. 

Him and I have always had these so called wars, but never like you’d imagine. We are silent, strategic, subtle. Neither of us knows when the other will attack until it’s too late. That’s why instead of going for a counter-attack right away, he heads to complete his mission of making the batter for the second layer.

All is quiet except the noises of the utensils clinking together every now and then. I keep a close watch on him out of the corner of my eye and I notice no sus behavior. That is until I see him take a spoonful of his batter and eat it. I whirl around at the speed of a gust of wind, eyes wide, “Do you want to fuck up your guts.” He ignores me as he takes another spoonful, bringing it close to his mouth. This time, I grab onto his arm causing the contents of the spoon to spill on my hoodie.

I roll my eyes, unbothered by the brown stain that by some miracle missed the apron and fell on my grey hoodie, “Don’t. Eat. The. Batter. Copy?“

“Paste.“ He nods, smirking with pride as he puts the spoon aside.

I sigh and return to my side of the kitchen, focusing on the next task: poring the batter into the circular baking tray which he, for some reason, has two of. He repeats the task soon after me and we put the two trays in the oven. I help him with the frosting, getting the shades close enough to what we had in mind. 

After about five minutes of the crusts baking, a wonderful smell spreads throughout the kitchen. At this point, all we have to do is wait for the oven to signal that our cinnamon crust is ready to be taken out, wait for it to cool down and then frost the cake.

“It smells really good.“ He comments, turning his head to look at me.

I’m sitting atop the kitchen counter and Corpse is standing next to me. This is the only time him and I are at approximately the same height. The realization brings a thought to my mind, one that makes me feel like an evil mastermind.

“Hey, remember earlier when you said I couldn’t crack an egg properly?“ He hums affirmatively, “Well...“

The carton of eggs is within arm’s reach. I grab an egg, chip it off the side of the counter and crack it apart above his head, its contents coating his hair. “How’s that for a proper egg crack?” I ask victoriously.

He lets out a surprised sound, something between a gasp and a laugh. Shaking his head to get the yoke to fall down, he says amusedly: “I don’t know...you tell me.”

Too late for me to do anything. There’s milk all over me.

The malicious smile on his face is replicated on mine and now it’s really on. However, as we reach for the items meant to be out weapons, the oven dings.

Frosting the cake goes about as well as you expect: there’s more frosting on us than the cake itself.

“Let’s make amends, please. I’m so not looking forward to taking three showers tonight.“ I say, raising a white napkin and waving it around.

“Fair enough.“ He shrugs and we shake hands.

As I’m about to pull my hand back, he holds onto it, making me look up at him. Our eyes lock and I suddenly regain that same shakiness and vulnerability I always have around him. It never leaves me, I just manage to ignore it. The sound of my panic is muffled by the sound of my heart thumping the loudest it has ever. 

Expectedly, he is the bold one who makes the first and final move. The move to end one era of us and start another. His lips touch mine and all fades. It’s just him and I. The friends who were never just friends. The cowards who suck at dealing with emotions. The fearful little kids that are afraid of rejection because we both mean so much to each other, to the point of suffering to prevent the possibility of losing one another.

We embrace who we are, finally admitting that friends is not what we are meant to remain forever.

The kiss might’ve been brief, but the meaning it carries makes it the most valuable moment of my life. One I’ll cherish forever. Something in his eyes tells me he will too. That’s all I need. That’s all we need. No words are necessary.

Suddenly, our bubble bursts as a result of his ringing phone. He lets go of one of my hands and takes his phone from the counter.

“It’s Dave”, he smiles, picking up the call and turning to get me in the camera frame. “Hey Dave, look who’s here with me.“

I wave at the camera and at the baffled face of Dave. “Hi!”

“What, in the name of God, is that mess?“ He raises both his eyebrows as his eyes scan us and the kitchen behind us.

“You call it a mess, we call it baking.“ Corpse and I look at each other and smile, blushing as red as the streak in Dave’s hair.

“Am I missing something here? Did I call at a bad time?“ He asks, still struggling to rationalize what he is seeing.

“Yeah, you actually did. I’ll call you back.“ Corpse dead-ass hangs up on him, putting his phone away before turning to me, “We have more important matters at the moment.“

He kisses me again, this time more confidently. His arms wrap around me and prep me up on the counter, insinuating that this kiss won’t be as short as the last.

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